Page 27 of Greed: The Savage
“Oh?” he reposted. “And you’ve taken to studying the book I specifically instructed you to read?”
Together, they looked at the hateful volume she clutched closed. Confusion sent her brow into a full wrinkle.
“What the hell do you think I’m doing down here?” Angry indignation restored her confidence.
Dynevor wouldn’t sack her for doing this.
“Tsk. Tsk.”
He flicked the tip of her nose, and she angrily swatted at his hand.
“The way I saw it, you weren’t conducting your reading and research after hours, but rather having fun at its expense, making an absolute mockery of what Dynevor specifically asked you to do here.”
Addien rocked back on her heels. This was the grievance for which he’d have her tossed out? Not that she hadn’t been doing her work, but rather that she’d not been doing it in the way he wanted.
“The book was getting read,” she said bluntly.
“By others or by yourself?”
Fear.
That muscle at the corner of his eye twitched again and the sight of his palpable agitation strengthened her spirit and her voice.
“There’s more than one way to skin a cat, Malric. So, you don’t like how I’m doing my work? It’s getting done. So why don’t you go mind your bloody business? And why—?”
The remainder of her question cut off on a shuddery gasp as he backed her swiftly against the wall.
Her heart hammered as she fought for breath—the strength and heat of him pressed to her, his broad chest against her narrow one. Thick, corded muscle where she was slight and fine-boned only sharpened the contrast between them, drawing her unwillingly to the truth of just how powerful, strong, and dangerously male he was.
What was wrong with her, to be left breathlessly aware of him in the one way she least wished—as a flesh-and-blood, desirable man? The fear of that felt far more perilous than the threat of dismissal he’d leveled against her.
“If you think for one moment I’ll allow you to remain in this hell, skirting my orders and miring my name, questioning my honor.”
“Your honor?” she asked, breathless with a heat she mistrusted.
Malric dropped his brow close to hers. So close, they nearly touched. So close, she felt the warm citrus of his breath tinged with brandy belonging to the finest spirits of the finest gentlemen.
It was a heightened reminder of the class difference between them. It should repel. It certainly should not suck her further into whatever mad spell this was.
“I heard you plainly, Addien,” he said in a low, quiet warning.
She swallowed with effort.
His voice dropped to a silky, dangerous growl. “I heard every last word you and your merry band of courtesans had to say.”
His hot, rabid gaze remained fixed on her mouth.
A charge of energy crackled in the air like the fear and dangerous anticipation of having the tip of a steel dagger kiss one’s throat. That moment where one hovered between death and exquisite life. Even on that lethal precipice, she still found words slipping past her lips, carried on the softest whisper. “So, that’s what this is really about, Malric?”
Anger slashed his eyebrows. Those coal-black arcs dipped to a point.
He released her quick.
She’d gotten to him—at last.
Suddenly empowered, she made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Aww, you got your feelings hurt, did you? You believed I was making light of your assignment.”
The vein at his right temple bulged.
