“Speak of the devil,” Rubey said slyly, garnering her a sharp, annoyed glance from Corvindale.
He strode in as if he owned the place and helped himself to a glass of the same whisky Maia had tasted. His serving was much more generous than hers. After a brief survey of the chamber—which was furnished with a sofa, where Maia sat facing two armchairs, one of which was occupied by their hostess, he disdained all of the seating possibilities and remained standing near a tall, narrow table to her left.
The expression on his face was haughty and removed, as always. But Maia found herself unable to keep anticipation from fluttering in her middle as she looked at him. His very presence changed the energy in the room, shrinking it, making it warmer. More interesting.
He’d obviously bathed as well, for his hair was damp and spiked in sharp points around the collar of his pristine white shirt. He stood holding his drink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to display dark-haired skin the color of suntanned leather. Elegant wrists connected strong, wide hands to muscular forearms, and Maia knew fully well the shape and girth of his upper arms and shoulders. She swallowed and averted her gaze from the loose ties at the throat of his shirt where just a hint of dark hair showed.
“Enlightening your guest with the darkest secrets of my race, are you, Rubey?” His words might have been light if it weren’t for the way his eyes bored into the titian-haired woman.
She didn’t seem to mind. “She was just telling me how it all happened. Quite a story.”
“I’m certain she was,” he replied without glancing at Maia. “But it was beyond foolish of her to become involved in the matter. Things would have worked out much better if she’d simply stayed home.”
Maia went rigid. “If it weren’t for me, Lord Corvindale,” she said in her iciest voice, “no one would have known about the ruby hairpin. Which is what led me to investigate Mrs. Throckmullins.”
“And there’s where you went wrong, Miss Woodmore. You should never have been investigating anyone. Dewhurst and Cale had things well in hand. They would have found me soon enough.”
Maia could not hold back an improper snort. “I merely went for an afternoon call?—”
“Nor should you have gone alone.”
“I didn’t go alone, you dratted man. Do you think I have feathers for brains? I had three footmen with me. How was I to know Mrs. Throckmullins was your former mistress, and that she would have invited me into tea and then poisoned me? I certainly couldn’t have brought three footmen into her parlor, now, could I?”
He raised the whisky. “Very well. I stand corrected. You could have done nothing to prevent Lerina from drugging and abducting you.”
Maia drew herself up even more, ignoring the avid interest on Rubey’s face. “Just as you could have done nothing to prevent her from abductingyou. Because of course, being the Earl of Corvindale, you know all and see all, and could clearly foresee everypossiblecircumstance. Which is precisely why you ended up in the condition in which I found you.”
Rubey drew in a sharp intake of breath that sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh.
“Furthermore,” Maia continued, unable to stop herself, “if I hadn’t managed not only to free myself from being chained to a chaise lounge and then gone in search of you, you would probably be dead by now from loss of blood.”
“Dracule don’t die from loss of blood,” he sneered.
“Even when tied up by ruby necklaces?”
“You were tied up by rubies, Dimitri?” Their hostess looked much too intrigued by such a concept, her eyes narrowing contemplatively. “Now there’s a fascinating idea.”
“Is my carriage here yet?” Corvindale snarled at her. “Perhaps you ought to go check.”
“Oh, but I find this conversation very stimulating.”
“Go.”He didn’t roar, but the room vibrated as if he had. Rubey rose reluctantly and started toward the door, not at all cowed.
But Maia wasn’t finished; no indeed. She had so much to say to the arrogant, impossible, infuriating man in front of her, she didn’t know if she’d be done in a week. “And then youthrow a stakeat me?—”
“I threw it at the vampire who was holding you?—”
“You could have stabbed me!”
“Of course I wouldn’t have, you addled woman. Do you think I’m completely incompetent? I knew precisely what I was doing, as is evident by the fact that you are here, intact, and so am I.”
“And then you jump through a second-story window,” Maia continued, her mind blazing with fury, the words tumbling out, “and take me with you! We could have been killed!”
“Dracule don’t die from a fall?—”
“But people like me do!” she shrieked, leaping to her feet. Maia drew in a deep breath and realized she’d truly gone mad. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was addled. She reached down for her glass, taking the last swallow of her whisky while managing not to cough or choke. She heard the faint click of the door closing behind Rubey.
Corvindale didn’t seem to notice; he was watching Maia from over the rim of his own glass, his eyes dark and steady. Wary. “The fact is,” he said in his chilly voice, “you were perfectly safe once the rubies were out of my proximity.”
