And yet, it wasn’t as though Hawkes was any expert on love. He only knew that when one loved, one cherished. One protected.
“Noted, thank you. My next question. What ifI should discover that she doesn’t want to return to you?”
Brundage went still. His eyes flared.
And then Hawkes watched as suspicion evolved into realization, which evolved into a dark spasm of rage, before Brundage got control of his features.
“Where is she, Hawkes?” He said this slowly. Coldly.
“Allow me to reiterate I’m not yet at liberty to disclose what I may or may not know.”
“Where. The bloody hell.Is. She. Hawkes?”
“I’d like to refer you to my previous sentence. And I would ask that you please modulate your tone when addressing me.”
Brundage eyed him in seething amazement. “You know where she is.”
And Hawkes was silent, because he knew silence was the thing that would madden Brundage the most and in lieu of placing his own hands around the man’s neck and squeezing, maddening him would have to do.
“I have another question, a somewhat philosophical one. If you could save only one life—hers, or yours—which would you value more?”
Brundage was beginning to fully realize that Hawkes had arrived today to toy with him.
“I don’t think I need to dignify that with an answer.”
Hawkes smiled knowingly.
The little muscle in Brundage’s jaw was ticking.
“Does she have the necklace?” he demanded swiftly.
Hawkes considered this. “If you could have one and not the other, which would you choose? The woman or the necklace?”
Brundage’s brows dove. “What the bloody hell kind of question is that? They are both.Mine.”
Hawkes smiled pityingly. “I think you may need to review the definition of the word ‘mine.’”
Brundage lunged forward and his hand shot out.
Hawkes caught it with the speed of a striking snake before Brundage could connect with his jaw.
Deftly, efficiently, he made a vise of his own fist and swiftly bent Brundage’s wrist back just shy of making what Hawkes knew would be a hideous snapping noise.
Brundage’s eyes widened in shock when he couldn’t tug his hand away.
“Come now,” Hawkes said almost tenderly. “Did you really think you would get the better of me? I’m not a woman who is much smaller than you, after all. And I’ve so much more experience than you with this filthy business. You can scream, but I will have broken your wrist by the time someone thinks to come running. And if you scream, or try this nonsense again, that’s precisely what I’ll do.”
Brundage’s eyes were now slits. His complexion had gone faintly green. His noble brow gleamed with sweat.
Hawkes altered his tone to hypnotically soothing. “I appreciate you are under enormous stress, given that a man of your stature must daily bear so many important responsibilities. You’re confronting a challenge, but all challenges come to an end, eventually. Rest assured that matters are progressing as they ought, and that it’s always best to handle such things with finesse and delicacy.”
He uncurled his fingers.
Then gently released Brundage.
Brundage slowly, slowly returned his hand to lie flat on his desk. He circled his wrist with his other hand.
And Hawkes could see in the other man the temptation to succumb to his charm. To the substance of the words. To the flattery. The battle within him was reflected in his features. He wanted to hear what he wanted to hear, and yet he knew, heknewthe truth of things. He could not order reality to be anything other than what it was. The only thing left to him was rage.
