“And miss this guy try to ask you out and fail?” He pointed his chin in Carter’s direction. “Trust me, darling. He has small dick energy.”
Carter spluttered, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a single finger. “Excuse me—”
“I’m so sorry, Carter,” she said, trying to ease some of the tension. “Could you give me a few minutes?”
Carter’s expression remained stiff, his eyes flicking between the two. “I can’t leave you with the—”
“Please,” she interrupted, reaching out to place her hand on his arm. She knew what it looked like, the move made on purpose. “I just need a moment to speak to Mr Black alone.”
Carter’s mouth pinched. “Two minutes before I have to return everything to the display.”
“I really appreciate it.” Harper squeezed his arm gently before stepping back. “Would you be able to call me when you find out more about the other two pieces? And when you find someone to translate?”
His face softened. “Of course. I’ll speak to you soon.” His glare towards Sythe could cut glass, but he quietly stepped away.
Harper took a second to compose herself, her fists clenched hard enough to create crescent moons into her palms. “You can’t—”
“Why are you so formal with me?” Sythe pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them in only a few steps. “Yet you call him Carter?”
“Because I actually like him,” she said before she could stop herself.
Sythe’s laugh was low and rough, and it sent all sorts of warmth through her centre.
“Ouch,” he said, pressing a large hand to the centre of his chest. “You’re mean when you’re pissed.”
“I’m not…” Harper shook her head, moving back to the table in which the document was displayed. Pulling out her phone, she quickly took a few pictures.
“What you looking for, darling?”
“What have I told you about calling me that?” she said, placing her phone back in her pocket. “And it’s that chalice for Wyatt.”
“A chalice?”
Harper turned, and Sythe cocked his head, his gaze assessing. The movement drew her attention to the column of his throat. There were tattoos there, the delicate swirls fighting against thicker lines that resembled thorns. She tried to remember the ones on his arms, but fabric wrapped tightly against his muscles, hiding them from view.
“Have you finished staring, or should I strip my shirt off too?”
Harper felt her face burn, Sythe’s eyes dancing with amusement when she met them. “Where’s Charles?” she asked, trying to hide some of her embarrassment. “He usually picks me up.”
“Don’t know, don’t care.” Sythe shrugged, looking over her shoulder at the paper with a frown. “Looks like you’ve got me instead. Now, why is Wyatt after a chalice?”
Harper pursed her lips. “I’m told what to find, not why.”
“There must be a reason he wants a simple cup?”
“You’re more likely to get an answer than I, Mr Black.” Harper carefully moved the document back to its original position, not wanting it to damage any further. She made her way back out of the exhibit, waving a goodbye to Carter as he animatedly spoke to a visitor regarding a different display.
“You should be more careful.” A hushed whisper against her ear, Sythe a heavy presence at her back. “You’ll give the man the wrong impression.”
Harper barely made it outside into the cool air before she turned, almost slamming into his chest. “Excuse me?”
“All I’m saying is you should be more careful.” He moved closer, the heat from his skin somehow blocking the bitter cold that whipped around them. “Or you’ll end up in his bed, disappointed because of his limp dick, and touching yourself to the image of someone who can actually make you come.”
“You’re disgusting.” She tilted her head back, feeling the light rain brush against her face. “And I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Her life had been written for her since the moment she took her first breath, and until she broke free, she was destined to be nothing but a puppet. She’d never be allowed to date, casually or otherwise. And now there was a possibility of an arranged marriage. Something else she had no control over.
“I know.” He seemed aggravated with the answer. “It would be a sin to give yourself over so easily, wouldn’t it, darling?”
Something cold weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach. “What are you doing here, Mr Black?”