Page 30 of Once a Villain
“Ican do it,” Aaron said, just as seriously. “Canyou? Because when we’re in public, you’ll have to do as I say. Pretend you’re—”
A sharp rap at the door made Joan jump.
Nick snatched up a heavy candlestick from the mantelpiece—so fast that Joan barely registered the movement. Sometimes, his reflexes were superhuman.
“It’ll be the maid,” Joan reminded him.
“Right.” Nick’s grip flexed on the candlestick and then relaxed. He put the candlestick back, but he didn’t take his eyes off the door. “Are we really doing this?” he said to them. “Are we really going to pretend that... well...”
“Geoffrey came up with the story himself,” Joan said. “That surely means that other people will buy it too.”
“I can’t think of any other reasonable explanation for having two humans here with me,” Aaron said.
A muscle jumped in Nick’s jaw. “In that case, we can’t allow the maid to see us like this.” At their confused expressions, he said: “We need to stage the room. Right now, all of this will look wrong.”
“What do you mean,wrong?” Aaron said.
“Well, we’re all fully dressed for one thing.”
Aaron’s face reddened, and Joan could feel her own cheeks getting hot too.
Nick was already moving, dragging up the duvet on the bed and rumpling the sheets. He tossed the pillows to the floor. “Or would you be neater than this?” he asked Aaron.
“Uh... ” Aaron took off his jacket and folded it, and then just stood there with it draped over his arm, looking a little wide-eyed.
Nick looked meaningfully at the door.
“I—” Aaron glanced at the door too, and made a clear and forced effort to gather himself. “No,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’tbe neat.” He took another breath, and his eyes finally focused. He looked at Joan assessingly. “Can you—” He touched his own mouth. “Can you pinch your lips for me?”
Why?Joan wondered, but she did what he’d asked. Aaron’s eyes tracked her fingers on her mouth. In the low light, his pupils were dilated. Joan caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror by the door, and her chest fluttered again out of nowhere. She looked like she’d been kissed.
“And—” Aaron ran his hands through his blond hair, ruffling it.
Joan copied him until wisps of her own hair curled around her face. In the mirror, it didn’t seem quite enough, though. She reached for the zip on her dress but couldn’t catch the slider. “Can you—?” she asked Aaron.
She watched in the mirror as he stepped closer to her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he drew the zip down carefully—just a few inches. Just enough to loosen it at the shoulders without compromising her.
In the reflection behind him, Nick’s eyes darkened. He was staring, mouth parted, and Joan swallowed. Aaron’s eyes were on her too, focused now and intent. Butterflies ran through Joan. She was nervous, she told herself. She hadn’t expected to have to do this.
“I can’t be the only one who looks like I’ve been...” Joan stumbled over how to say it.
Aaron saved her. “No, you’re right.” He tossed his folded jacket carelessly, and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing pale skin and a glimpse of black lines where his hip started. His mermaidtattoo. Joan’s mouth felt dry suddenly.
Aaron met Nick’s eyes in the mirror. “Unbutton yours too,” he told him.
Nick’s eyebrows went up. He sat on the edge of the bed—where Aaron had been sitting earlier. Then he opened the buttons one-handed until his shirt draped open. Naked, his chest seemed even more like a classical statue.
Joan dragged her eyes away. “Good,” she managed. In the mirror, her face was flushed, pink spreading all the way down her bare neck.
“Good,” Aaron echoed. He cleared his throat. “All right...” He took a deep breath and turned back to Joan. For a second his gaze seemed to stop on her.
“The door,” Joan whispered.
“Right.” Aaron shook his head slightly. “Right. The door.” He cleared his throat again and raised his voice. “Come!”
A maid entered. She wore a neat trouser-and-shirt uniform, her hair in a French bun. She wrinkled her nose as she took them all in. She had a thin, muscled frame and disapproving air that made Joan think of strict ballet instructors. She placed the tray on a small table near the hearth and dropped some shopping bags nearby. “Supper, my lord,” she said to Aaron.
“Thank you,” Aaron said. All his warmth was gone. His eyes were icy and dangerous again.
