Max’s hand landed on hers. “I’ll catch whoever it is. Tonight, if possible. But until then, we need to be careful. You need to be careful.”
His hand was warm and reassuring, but it also had her wanting to turn and climb onto his lap—to find the ultimate protection with him.
And protect him, too.
If Reed discovered what the two of them had done, he’d call Maxwell out. That could very well result in one or both of them turning up dead, and she wasn’t about to lose another person she lov—cared about. “How will we catch him?”
“We won’t be catching anyone. I, on the other hand, have a plan. Tonight, while the workers take their backstreet break, I’ll be guarding the finished frames.”
“No one can know.” It was exciting. But also, dangerous.
“Exactly.”
Caroline nodded. “The empty supply closet will make an excellent vantage point for us.”
“For me.” Max corrected her.
“Then where will I be?”
“At home—or a ball. Anywhere but the Gazette’s offices.”
“But—”
He set a fingertip on her lips, silencing her in what should not have been an arousing gesture, but somehow was anyway. She stared at his mouth and had to squeeze her thighs together.
“Caroline.” He stared at her, deadly serious. “I don’t want you anywhere near the paper tonight. Do you understand?”
“But you can’t take him on by yourself! What if he’s armed?” Images of Max wounded, or worse, weren’t something she appreciated.
“I’ll be fine.” Max dipped his chin.
She licked her lips, tasting the salt on his silencing fingertip. Her heart skipped a beat—possibly two. She caught it between her teeth, trapping him.
“Caroline.” Almost a growl.
She abruptly released him, the note catching her eye.
Yours and her secrets. What secret was Max keeping?
“Why can’t you marry?” She hadn’t meant to ask the question, but he had told her he could not make an offer—not that he didn’t want to. “Does it have something to do with your secret?”
A moment before, she’d almost thought he would kiss her again. At her question, however, he’d pulled his hands away and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“No.” His gaze flicked to the window but then back. “Perhaps. But it doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.” And then she clarified. “Not because I expect an offer. I’m not sure I even wish to marry. But I should know—”
“You knowing isn’t necessary.” He stood, leaving her to tilt her head back in order to read his expression—which was difficult, seeing as he’d put up some sort of wall. Was it because she’d asked about marriage, or because of his secret?
“You don’t want to know,” he said. “Trust me.”
“I do. I thought you trusted me, too.”
“I do. It’s just...” He turned away, running one hand through his hair. “It isn’t my secret to tell.” He looked pained, and Caroline abstained from pressing him.
“Is that why you came, then? Just to tell me to stay away?”
“I also need to know the names of the men who were outside last night—so I can eliminate them as suspects.”
