“Selling me for physical services, I’m aghast.” His voice was mocking, but there was a dangerous undercurrent. An eddy that threatened to drag me under.
“You seemed to be enjoying it.”
“And how would you know that, Lady Winters?”
“No one acts that well,” I said, my lips nearly cracking from the force required to utter the words.
“Isn’t that what you are paying for, Lady Winters—myfullservices, in acting and all else?”
My fingernails dug into my left palm. I picked up the journal in my right. “Were you going to give this to me if I hadn’t walked in on the two of you?”
“Don’t you trust me?” His voice was nonchalant.
“Tosinwould be less dangerous.”
He was suddenly squatting in front of me, having moved too quickly for me to react. He ran one finger over the leather cover, the tip brushing mine.
“That’s a shame, Marietta.” His voice held the low hum of an ocean wave at night. “If you don’t trust me, your brother is going to hang. And you will still serve me. Three times. Three tasks. Three vows to sin?”
His fingertip moved down the side of my hand and then lifted. The most dangerous man I’d ever met crouched in front of me. Terrifying in the responses he caused—created.
“I want to know if you were going to give me the journal,” I whispered, unable to do anything else.
He leaned toward me, his lips mere inches from mine. “And what makes you think I will answer?”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Frozen, I waited for him to move. And waited. The footsteps grew closer.
His mouth curved, so close I could see the fine lines on his lips. Footsteps outside the door. I shoved away from him, standing and clutching the journal to my chest.
“We couldn’t locate your parasol.”
I processed Sable’s words without turning. “Bring Master—bring this gentleman something to drink, Sable. I’m sure he will appreciate the gesture.”
A strangled growl emerged, then her footsteps retreated once more.
“Poor Sable. Do you always abuse your staff so?”
I gripped the journal more tightly at his smooth, mocking voice, the arrogant tilt to his head—the way he continued to squat on his heels and stare up at me through the fringe of his hair, green eyes jaded and promising all sorts of things.
“And if I do? I’m sure you can coax her back to a satisfied state. That is whatyoudo, is it not?”
“I perform all my jobs well.” He leaned back on his hands, long legs spread before him. “What other services interest you?”
Sex and mystery coiled, curled,oozedfrom every pore. Sex magic was a gray area. Most gilded wore gloves covered in anti-enchantments and charm protections. But it was part of the game they played too. Ballrooms reeked with social enchantments of all kinds. It was part of how they decided who was deserving—who had access to the best charms, who could sway others without being swayed themselves.
Gabriel Noble’s pull was a whole different kind—primal, as if he wasn’t using magic at all.
“I don’t want your other services.”
“Pity.” He cocked his head to the side in a derisive tilt.
“I thought the underfed weren’t your style?”
“They aren’t. But adders are something I pride myself on handling.”
I stiffened. “You get away with this type of behavior?”
He grinned wolfishly. “Always.”
