“You’re blushing.” Lisca clapped her hands together. “You never blush. You took my advice, didn’t you? And in his library! Well, I was right, wasn’t I? You do not look dissatisfied.”
“You were right,” Reyn told Lisca and left it at that.
Her friend was not done with the topic, though. “You told him about your magic, too. I’m so happy for you, Reyn.”
Reyn remembered just in time that Lisca didn’t know that her entire courtship with Velario was a ruse. She stopped herself from worrying aloud what having sex with Velario meant, for in Lisca’s eyes there would be nothing to worry about. She wouldn’t understand Reyn’s fears that the lines had all blurred. Reyn’s confusion about where the physical ended, and the emotional began, would make no sense to someone who believed she had started with an emotional attachment.
Reyn ducked her head and pretended to be overcome by a bout of Moialan modesty. She hoped Lisca believed it, after her earlier blush.
“I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” She gestured at the shelves of journals. “Where do we start?”
“Petria was queen for a few decades. Did Velario give you any more precise information?”
“According to him, sirens were mentioned alongside a report on the final years of her reign.”
“All right. Let me find the journals from that period.”
Lisca scanned the leather-bound books, occasionally pulling one out and flipping through a few pages before putting it back. Eventually, she pulled one out and handed it to Reyn. “You can start with that one. I’ll grab the next volume.”
Velario looked atthe stacks of papers on his desk and yawned. He should have gone to bed after escorting Reyn home, instead of spending the rest of the night in the library. He had found a mention of sirens, though, so he deemed the lack of sleep worthwhile. Hopefully, what he had found had helped Reyn when she consulted with Lisca and Khiran.
He wondered if she would tell him what she had learned when he saw her later. He wondered when he would see her next. He had almost added a request that she stop by the bank that afternoon, once she saw Lisca, but had stopped himself. His hunt for the counterfeiter could wait for a day so that she could learn about her power.
He could wait for a day.
Velario looked at the papers in front of him again—he certainly had plenty of other work to do. But he couldn’t concentrate on the dry reports and columns of numbers. His thoughts instead kept drifting back to the library. The chair. Reyn taking charge. Reyn.
It had been even better than the first time, and that had been indescribable. Velario wanted to do it again. Many times. Last night he had claimed Reyn’s need for a distraction as an excuse. What else could he use to justify getting her into bed?
Maybe he didn’t need an excuse. Reyn had proposed the first time, after all. And she had leapt at the opportunity he presented her last night. She might be open to an arrangement that acknowledged their mutual pleasure in physical intimacy. Velario had indulged in similar relationships with a few friends over the years.
But he and Reyn weren’t friends, were they?
Velario closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was his fault they weren’t friends. He had made assumptions. Worse, he had not only judged Reyn without evidence, he had clung to his assumptions even after she had disproven them. All because he didn’t want to be attracted to her.
Five hells, he was an idiot. That instantaneous attraction was probably a result of her lure, or siren call, or whatever magic she possessed. She probably hadn’t done it on purpose, and he had spent weeks trying to punish her for his own lack of will.
No, blaming it on the lure wasn’t fair either. Velario had felt her lure over the past weeks, even if he hadn’t recognized it. The lure wasn’t the reason he wanted to stay up all night searching for answers to put Reyn’s worries to rest. It wasn’t the reason he was disappointed she wouldn’t be spending the day at his side. It wasn’t even the reason he wanted to spend all night wringing pleasure from her body and sating his own.
That was all Reyn. Lovely, exasperating, invigorating Reyn.
Velario groaned and made himself pick up the first paper in the stack. He’d worry over Reyn, and how to atone for his idiocy—he hoped she’d let him apologize with more orgasms—later. He needed to work. If he got through the stack in front of him, then he could go find Reyn after supper.
With difficulty, Velario went over the papers that needed his attention. It took him twice as long as usual to make sure he missed nothing important, but he did it. He ate a hasty meal and dove back into his work, determined to finish everything so he could go see Reyn that evening without guilt.
He had finally lost himself in the intricacies of the numbers when his office door slammed open. Velario’s head jerked up.
Enzi Sablon stood in the doorway to his office. Family Sablon shared an interest in the bank, which was no doubt how Enzi had talked his way back here, but the heir of the Family had no direct role in bank affairs.
Velario didn’t have to ask the other man what he was doing. Enzi strode into the room and threw a handful of banknotes on Velario’s desk. “What in the five hells are these?”
Velario looked down at the notes. He couldn’t spot fakes in an instant, like Reyn, but he was getting faster at identifying the counterfeits. He picked up one of the banknotes, certain he knew what he would find upon close examination. He pretended confusion anyway. “What do you mean?”
“These are counterfeit banknotes, Ferrini. Currency bound to ruin Lhanaperi’s economy, and they entered circulation on your watch. Do you know where I found these?”
“No, but I would like to.”
“High Street, Dewra Gardens, and Persdale Square. Three locations, across Tryn. What have you been doing while these counterfeits invaded our city?”
