Maybe he’d caught their eye and gestured bluntly that they should make themselves scarce. She wouldn’t put it past him.
“An accident, then,” Peter said. “Nothing to worry about.”
Thomas smiled. Although perhaps it would be more accurate to describe the gesture as baring his teeth, as there was no politeness or warmth in that smile at all. He took a step closer, his height and muscle dwarfing the smaller Peter. Emma could almost feel the man cower against her.
“Thomas…” she began and immediately wished she hadn’t spoken.
Thomas’s gaze whipped in her direction, and there was something searing about it. The words died in her mouth, and she was left breathless by a combination of arousal, anticipation, and frustration, all mingling in her gut.
“I’m nae angry,” Peter said.
Obviously, the man did not know when to stop. His gaze was darting about, and he didn’t dare fix his stare on Thomas’s face. Perhaps he was afraid.
For good reason, Emma thought.
“Me hand slipped,” Thomas repeated, his words harsh and clipped. “Just like yours.”
His gaze dropped pointedly to where Peter’s hand rested on Emma’s lower back, making his point entirely plain.
Peter swallowed hard, the movement making his scrawny throat bob wildly. He glanced sideways at Emma as if appealing for help. She only raised her eyebrows. What did he want her to do? Thomas had obviously taken a dislike to the situation, and it wasn’t far to drag poor Peter into this.
“Apologies,” Peter rasped out, withdrawing his hand as if it had been burned. “I… I was simply…” he stammered, the last of his courage leaving him, and glanced at Emma again.
“We were just having a conversation,” she said shortly.
Thomas did not look at her. He was still staring at Peter, not seeming to even blink. “I’m sure it was an excellent conversation,” he drawled, the implication clear.
Swallowing hard again, Peter’s nerve broke. He darted past Thomas, heading for the stairs, and did not look back. He plunged into the crowd and was immediately swallowed up.
That left Thomas and Emma alone on the landing.
Anger fizzled inside her.
Who does he think he is? How dare he? Especially after… after Astrid!
She glared at Thomas, who stared boldly right back.
“What in the world do ye think ye are doing?” she hissed.
He smiled again, the sharp, fox-like smile that never failed to send a shiver down her spine. “I was about to ask ye the same.”
16
Thomas hauled her down the corridor, heading further into the depths of the building. Emma had the vague feeling that she ought to be afraid, or at least distrustful, but the feeling wasn’t coming. She only felt breathless, nervous, as if something were coming her way, and she couldn’t wait to meet it.
He headed down a narrow, dark corridor, choosing the third door on the left with no hesitation. That brought them into an office, a place laden with books and papers, with a couch in the corner that somebody appeared to have been sleeping in.
Emma finally came to her senses and wrenched her hand out of his grip.
“Get yer hands off me,” she hissed. “What do ye mean by dragging me about like this?”
“Well, would ye have come here if I asked?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I’m going.”
She turned to the door, not entirely sure whether she meant to walk out of it or not.
“Stay. Please.”
