Chapter Twenty
Percy stood inthe open doorway of his bed chambers, watching Danny brush her long hair in front of the vanity. He swallowed a lump in his throat and memorized the varying brown tones in her hair—rich chocolate underneath silky almond—not knowing the next time he’d have the privilege to drink in the sight of her.
Noticing his presence, her eyes met his in the mirror, and her slow smile had Percy’s groin filling with hot need.
“I’ve been waiting for you for hours,” she said, setting her brush down.
I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. Percy’s nails dug into the doorframe to stop from going to her. This wasn’t a time for emotion to take over.
At his silence, Danny glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes narrowed on his position still in the doorway. “Something has happened.”
He nodded, loving and hating how perceptive she was. “I need to go underground for a while.” Possibly six feet under.
Her attention felt hot on his profile.
He didn’t dare meet her gaze.
“This has to do with your ex-partner, doesn’t it?”
Jesus, the woman was a mind reader. He nodded again, swearing he heard her brain connecting the story of his past with his vague statement.
“I see,” she said at last, and he didn’t doubt she did.
Good, he thought. Better to leave things unsaid. Now when they parted ways, there’d be no question she could take care of herself if the worst happened.
Crossing the room, she dropped to her knees to pull a large trunk out from under her bed and began throwing miscellaneous garments inside.
Percy watched, his brain unable to connect her actions to his words. “What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
He blinked. “I can see that. Why?”
She quirked a brow at him, the arch taunting. “I’ll need at least a few changes of clothes if we’re to leave.” She stopped and scrunched her nose. “Unless we’re literally going underground.” Scrutinizing the trunk, she pulled out a white nightgown and replaced it with a brown skirt.
Percy wouldn’t entertain the warmth swirling inside his chest at her lack of trepidation. The chit was so fearless, he could say he was going to bunker down in a volcano, and she’d probably pack swimwear and a parasol.
Steeling himself, Percy left all feeling from his voice when he said, “You’re not coming.”
She paused, slippers dangling from her fingers. Intentions now clear, her jaw clenched as she set the slippers down and turned to face him fully. “I will not stay here without you. Where you go, I go. This man must be brought to justice.”
“Justice?” The woman was impossible. “You can’t right every wrong, Danny. This isn’t some cat in a tree.”
“No, it’s a man who wants you dead, and I will not allow it.”
God, how those three words—not allow it—soothed his soul. At least one person would mourn him if he didn’t come back. It was more than a wretch like him deserved.
Percy swallowed, battering those welling feelings into submission. “I have men stationed on the grounds. You’ll stay here, under guard, until my business is concluded.”
“No.”
“This isn’t up for discussion.”
When she went back to packing without a word, Percy felt his belly fill with fire.
“Did you hear what I said, Danny?”
“I heard.” She folded a second set of breeches and placed them beside the first.
