Not that she was likely to ever want to lower herself to a flirtation—or more—with the likes of him, but the look in her eyes had very briefly suggested she wasn’t entirely blind to his charms. Did the lady protest too much?
She took a step back. “Enough. I came to offer you a deal.”
“What sort of deal?”
“You want the information in that letter, so do I. However.” She bit her lip, eyes wavering in their ferocity for the first time since she walked in. “It’s written in Faery.”
Ah. Sothatis why she was here. He went back to the desk and refilled his cup with water—he wasn’t trying to drink himself into a stupor, but she didn’t need to know what he was drinking—and downed the whole thing. Her exasperated huff and eye roll were highly amusing.
It didn’t bother him that she knew he was part fae. The fact wasn’t exactly hidden now that his name was out there for the world to see. He’d lost his right to privacy the moment his name appeared as heir to his father’s house. Of course she would have heard. Her mother and sisters probably talked about that ‘fae bastard’ over their tea and biscuits. He had no reason to care that the information might influence her opinion of him.
“May I see the letter?”
She hesitated. Then, with a scowl and a sharp flick of her wrist, she flashed the envelope from the previous night. So fiery. “That’s all until we have some sort of deal. How do I know you won’t read this and then leave me with nothing?”
“I may be of a lower class than you’re used to, but I’m more sporting than that. Besides, I get no benefit from hiding the information. You may do with it what you please, as I intend to do. So long as Graves suffers,” he added with a smile.
Something crossed her features that he couldn’t read, but she nodded. “Then as a show of good will…” She released the folder.
He opened it and turned the paper over in his hands.
The information was imperative to his goals, but so now was the possibilities Miss Wilde presented. Graves was marrying her sister—a loathsome and horrific thought, the poor girl—and that meant Miranda Wilde could provide him the opportunity to get close to Graves.
Close enough to run him through or poison his drink or punch until the breathing stopped, Devin wasn’t picky about the means. It was in his interest to keep his association with Miss Wilde, though not in his interest to add more friction to this already heated mix by attempting any actual seduction. If he planned to use her for her connections, he'd have to behave.
He could handle the temptation. He’d been tempted before and resisted. All that was required was a more diplomatic approach and he could start by securing her cooperation in deciphering her information. Unfortunately, it was in a language that neither of them could read. A fact he opted to withhold for the moment.
“I’ll agree to translate this on one condition.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms. Miranda’s nose flared, her jaw flexing with the effort of some sort of restraint. But she said nothing so he continued, “We’re in this together.”
“What?” That broke her fury, her jaw finally relaxed.
He shrugged. “You need me and I want some assurance we won’t be in each other’s way again. As we both want the same thing, I see no harm in an agreement to work together.”
Her fingers curled into fists, eyes adopting a malicious glint that tempted him to push just a bit further.
“I’m waiting, princess.”
A silence settled. Electric tension hummed in the space between them. Miranda was poised to attack, her fists seemed to tremble with restraint. Their gazes held, despite the very real danger a guardian’s wrath presented to his person. A thrill chased through him, igniting his body in a way he hadn’t felt in ages.Gods, this was fun.
“Fine.” She spoke through her teeth, turning her body away from him. “I agree.”
Disappointment was not the sane response to a narrow escape at bodily harm, but it flared through him none-the-less. Shewore her emotions in plain sight. He could see her reluctance. Her petulance. The sneer and half-glances were hardly anything new. Devin had been on the receiving end of such venom his entire life. He was notorious, after all. And a half-breed.
The barest slip of something more wasn’t exactly new, either. His history sparked derision, but his looks often inspired lust. Miranda’s eyes had wandered to his lips twice now, though he couldn’t be absolutely certain whether it was for a kiss or a target for her fist.
“Perfect, then let’s start with one very important question. A show of trust, you could say.” Her jaw clenched once again, he worried she’d break a tooth. “What do you want with Yarrow Graves?”
Miranda should not have needed to hesitate; it was a reasonable question. Yet, there was something irritating about Lord Drake that spoke to the fight instinct drilled into her all her life. She took a breath. This was about Cordelia. Without Drake’s help, she had nothing to go on and her efforts would be lost. Her sister would be lost.
She turned to him again, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as he coyly watched her like he knew a secret she didn’t. His body was perched on the edge of the desk, completely at ease and confident she would cave. A muscle near her eye twitched, but her resolve was strong.
“He’s engaged to my sister.”
He frowned. “So I’ve read. It’s newsworthy, apparently,” he said in a tone that suggested he disagreed with its news worth, “What I’m curious about is what that has to do withyou,Miss Wilde. Why are you interested in potentially incriminating information that will disrupt your sister’s happy nuptials?”
“I love her,” she replied.
For the first time, his mask of charming, insufferable rake slipped from his features. He met her eyes with a true expression, something earnest and real that vanished just in time to save her from getting lost. His eyes were dangerous. She’d lose her head…or more, if she weren’t careful.
