Page 19 of Greed: The Savage
“Killoran wants you in his office now.” The other proprietor and head guard directed them.
Addien’s stomach sank all the way to her tightly clenched toes.
She’d been wrong. She’d happily take humiliation at Malric’s hands to this.
When they reached the earl’s offices, Addien latched her fingers onto Malric’s sleeve.
She forced herself to swallow her pride a second time, and given Dynevor, there’d likely be a whole lot more swallowing happening.
“Thank you for keeping what happened during the meeting between us,” she said.
“What are you talking about, Miss Killoran?” His tone managed to pack haughtiness, condescension, and pity into one.
Her toes curled sharply into the soles of her slippers. “In the carriage—”
“In the carriage, I righted your gown because it required righting,” he said coolly.
Oh, God. She wanted to melt into oblivion.
He’d made her feel safe. He’d let her believe…
Did he let you believe, or did you merely want to see kindness because you so needed it?
“You bloody rat,” Addien rasped.
Malric wound his fingers so tight around her forearm, she drew in a fast breath. Burned by his touch, she switched her stunned gaze between the hold he had upon her and his punishing eyes.
“I am no bloody rat,” he whispered. “My loyalty is absolute and is reserved for my employers. They are the ones I answer to. You are nothing.”
The deadened stare heaped upon Addien’s self-worth—the sum being zero.
Addien managed a wavering nod. She wanted to call back the impulsive slight, and not out of fear but because of the blade of guilt that sawed away at her. He’d been a better person by far today. When she’d referred to herself in that derogatory way, he’d subtly reminded her of her worth. Whereas she? She’d behaved like a petulant child.
“I am…” Addien grimaced. “Sorry. I should not have used that insult.”
Malric drew back and then quickly collected himself. “Sorry is but a word, Addien.” His expression revealed nothing. “Prove it in your ways going forward.”
Not to people in the Dials. Asorrymeant something…which is why no one spoke them.
Addien inclined her head. “You have my word. I shall not ever call you a rat again.”
The marquess did a deep search of her face and appeared mollified by what he saw or didn’t see.
Addien sneered. “Next time, I’ll have a more creative, fitting curse for a bugger like you.”
That didn’t get the rise she sought. “After you, Addien?” The instant he released her arm, she grabbed the place where he’d wrapped his fingers tight—her skin still maintained the heat of his touch. His hold hadn’t been the punishing, cruel one of men and women who’d laid their hands on her in violence, but this heart was just as cold.
As Malric shepherded her into the earl’s office, her stomach churned.
That twisting and turning of her belly grew worse the moment she found Dynevor seated—behind his desk.
The sacking place!
Even as Malric moved forward, Addien hung back.
I’m going to be sick.
Lord Dynevor looked past the marquess and found Addien with his gaze.
