She brings both legs underneath her and faces me fully on the settee, hands clasped in a gesture of desperate pleading. “Please?”
My mind is busy erecting mental walls, but the echo of that single word halts their frantic construction.
“This commission is important to me. I…I need it.” Her throat bobs. “Will you help me?”
Was Daphne always so persuasive? Did she always have the ability to strip me of all my good senses and instill a desperation to say anything—do anything—to keep such a sad look off her face?
Yet there is a sly and calculating beast within that reminds me this is still a dangerous situation. I can’t give in completely. Not without some sort of safeguard.
And I know just the thing.
It gives me no satisfaction to consider this option, and I already rejected the idea once today. Yet, with cold resignation, I realize how necessary it is. We need the right kind of boundary between us, and I need a solid lead in securing the long-term employment and signing bonus my boss offered. I must pay off my debt with a legitimate loan and free myself from my lender. And I only have three months left to do it.
It takes all my restraint to speak with control. To force a taunting grin to my lips and pretend my every word isn’t contrived. “You need help with your career? It just so happens I do as well.”
“You do? Does it have to do with why you were at Fletcher-Wilson this morning?”
“It does indeed. You need a model. I need someone who’s a disaster at dating.”
Her eyes narrow. “What exactly are you implying?”
“Be my feral little muse, Daffy Dear, and I’ll be yours.”
CHAPTER NINE
DAPHNE
No matter how long I stare at Monty, I can’t make sense of his words. “Be your muse for what? And what do you mean bydisaster at dating? I…I’m…”
“You can’t finish that sentence without lying, can you? Oh, the woes of being pureblood fae. Such an inconvenience that you must tell the truth all the time, isn’t it?”
I level a hard stare at him. “I know the rules of courtship.”
“Brad Folger would say otherwise.” When I open my mouth to argue, he speaks again. “Do you want my body or not? I won’t give it away for free.”
My gaze sweeps over his form. Even though he’s donned his shirt again, I can’t get the sight of him fighting out of my mind. A dance of muscle and sinew. A portrait of beauty and violence. I heave a resigned sigh. “Yes, but I’m not agreeing until you explain?—”
“There you are.” Araminta’s voice accompanies a rush of sound, courtesy of the now-open door. The roar of shouts and cheers tells me another match has started, and the racket has my hackles raised until Araminta closes the door behind her. I left the rest of my candy floss at my table and its effects have worn off.
Araminta flounces toward us, the black ruffles of her mourning gown bouncing with every step. And she’s not alone. She’s latched onto the arm of a young human male—in his early twenties, perhaps—who greets Monty and me with a bashful smile. Now that I see the pair together, I’m sure they’re the couple I spotted kissing in the shadows before Monty’s match.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Araminta says. Her black bonnet hangs down her back, and loose wisps of her lilac hair have come free of her braid to flutter around her face.
I scoff. “You’re the one who ran off, never to return. I thought you were only getting candy floss.”
Araminta grins. “Well, I did, but I wanted to try ale too. So David helped me out and bought me a glass. Now we’re in love and I’m spending the night with him.”
“You’re in love.” I nearly choke on the words, my eyes volleying between the two figures who stand before us. “With David. A man you just met.”
Araminta beams.
I shift my full attention to her partner. “And what do you have to say about this, David?”
The young man hinges at the waist in an overly formal bow. “I’m fond of your daughter, ma’am. I hereby make a binding vow to take good care of her tonight and treat her with the utmost respect. I’ll have her home first thing in the morning.”
My face flushes with a shock of heat. “Daughter…what? No.”
Monty snorts a laugh, and I cut him a glare.
