What had happened between them mustn’t happen again.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t want it to, and more than she wanted to take her next breath.
CHAPTER10
By the time Theo arrived at Archer Tierney’s town house, he was drenched from the rain and thoroughly irritated with himself for the lack of control he’d been exhibiting whenever a certain gorgeous marchioness was within reach. He hated himself for wanting her, and yet, he couldn’t seem to stop himself where she was concerned.
Although the distraction and opportunity to leave Hunt House and Lady Deering behind in favor of answering Tierney’s summons should have been welcomed, Theo was undeniably grim. Tierney’s man answered the door with his customary scowl.
“You again,” was all Lucky said.
“Tierney asked me to call,” he offered in explanation as rivulets of water ran off his hat.
Behind him, the din of the street was unusually quiet. The chill in the air had only grown colder as the day had progressed, and the rain showed no sign of stopping. Likely, others had possessed more common sense than Theo and had decided to remain at home and dry.
Lucky’s lip curled into a sneer as he stepped aside with what appeared to be reluctance, allowing Theoentrée. “Come.”
Theo entered and removed his soaked hat and greatcoat, not wishing to drip all over Tierney’s fine floors. He hadn’t an inkling why he’d been summoned again so soon, but he feared it was somehow related to Stasia.
He followed Tierney’s man to the study and waited as Lucky knocked at the door.
At the curt voice on the other side bidding him to enter, Lucky swept the portal open, raking Theo with a disdainful glare as Theo slipped past. He’d never understand the man’s dislike of him, and nor would he understand Tierney’s loyalty to the brooding guard. But when he made it two strides across the threshold and he realized Tierney wasn’t alone, he forgot about everything else.
There, by the roaring fire in the grate, wearing a gown the deep, majestic hue of the St. George family colors, stood his sister. Theo stopped, his gut clenching. It had been ten long years since he’d seen her last, and she’d been little more than a child herself then, but he would recognize her anywhere. She had their father’s blue eyes and cold, compassionless demeanor. But she looked like their mother, too.
For a moment, he felt as if he were staring at a ghost.
The past came rushing back to him like a pair of hands wrapped around his neck, threatening to choke.
“Theo,” she said, moving toward him, a gold necklace at her throat catching his attention, for it bore the coat of arms their mother had been given at her marriage to the king.
A coat of arms which had been banished and outlawed by the king’s deathbed decree so that anyone caught wearing it would be punished by death on the gallows.
He jerked his gaze from her, saying nothing for fear of what might emerge, looking to Archer Tierney, who stood with a hip propped against his desk in a deceptively indolent pose, watching the drama unfold. His expression was unreadable as ever.
“What is she doing here?” Theo bit out.
“You may speak to me directly, brother,” Stasia said in flawless English that, had he not known better, would have convinced him she had spent all her days in England rather than trapped in Boritania beneath the thumbs of their uncle and brother.
He glared at Tierney, who shrugged his shoulders. “I delivered your message. The princess is deuced persistent.”
Theo didn’t care how persistent she was. She had come to the wrong man.
He turned back to her with great reluctance, noting she had stopped a few feet away. Close enough to bring all the memories of their youth which he had fought to banish from his mind.
“You should have listened to Tierney when he told you that your brother is dead,” he told Stasia coldly. “You’ve wasted your time in seeking out a man who doesn’t exist.”
“But I can see you, living and breathing before me,” she countered, looking so elegant now and like a woman fully grown. Every inch the princess she had likely been forced to become. “How do you dare to lie to my face, after everything I’ve endured to find you?”
He wondered for a moment at what she could have endured. He saw no marks on her arms. Her skin was far too golden for London drawing rooms, which suggested she’d recently been in Boritania.
“I never asked anyone to find me,” he snarled.
“Well, Christ, does this mean youarea Boritanian prince, Beast?” Tierney drawled.
“No,” he said.
“Yes,” Stasia answered simultaneously.
