Page 101 of Greed: The Savage
He could not reach her.
She was so near.
A stretch of ground, no more than twenty paces, lay between him and her salvation. Yet to cross it meant being stoppedand thrown out by Argyll’s guards—or worse, hauled inside for questioning, toyed with until he was rendered helpless.
He measured the gaming hell with a soldier’s eye, tallying obstacles and counting the cost of acting.
If he charged on ahead, they’d know the depth of his desperation. They’d know she’d matter, and have the upper hand, and there was no saying how they’d use his love of her against Thornwick and to their advantage.
Each passing moment scraped his temper raw. They were toying with him. They were costing Thornwick valuable time. Unknowingly, they were costing themselves even more.
Diggory’s fangs were already in them, the feast begun before they sensed their first cut.
Bloody hell.
The pretense under which he’d stationed himself here required he not grab for his timepiece.
The fixed gaze he had on the front windows of Forbidden Pleasures detected the new placement of the full-eyed moon. Even it had made an appearance for the looming showdown with Mac Diggory.
Addien’s arrival earlier that day, followed by Thornwick’s this evening, spelled clearly to Argyll and his partners that Thornwick’s being here pertained to the beautiful firebrand inside.
Mine.Thornwick’s nostrils flared.She is my beautiful firebrand!
Thornwick’s chest constricted. While he’d been tending Dynevor’s business, Addien had sought sanctuary inside Forbidden Pleasures…with another.
Given the way Argyll toyed with him, the playboy duke had surely already begun his seduction.
Images ravaged him: Argyll’s bloody rogue’s grin turned on her. A practiced caress from the seasoned Lothario. A whisper at her ear to draw shivers.
Heat scorched up his neck, a fever born of fury and fear.
She was too clever for the rakish duke. She would not be seduced. She couldn’t be.
It would unmake Thornwick, leave him hollowed and bleeding where no scar would ever show.
“Well, if it isn’t the Devil’s Den’s own Lord Thornwick come to grace us with his presence.”
He stiffened.
At bloody fucking last.
The affable darkly clad gentleman looked to the other equally affable and similarly dressed gentleman by his side and chuckled. “Never tell us. You arealsohere in search of employment.”
“Another Mauley working for Cadogan,” his compatriot drawled. “Unlikely.”
Thornwick had given a damn once—about his name, about the filth spoken of it. He had. He knew it. But none of it mattered now. Only Addien did.
“Oh,” Ineffectual Guard One said with cutting sarcasm. “He might have use of his services mucking out the stables.”
Ineffectual Guard Two scoffed. “A Mauley being given such a privilege in Forbidden Pleasures. I—”
“I’d sooner burn this place than ask for anything,” Thornwick said frostily. “I’m here toclaimsomething that is mine.”
Both men exchanged a look.
The blond fellow smirked. “I believe you might meansomeone. If not, she has already been—”
Rage detonated in Thornwick’s chest. Heat scalded up his throat, his vision narrowing to red. Addien. In Argyll’s bed. In the other man’s arms—
