Page 56 of Greed: The Savage
Delilah caught her narrower, wiry shoulders and leaned over her so they faced each other in the vanity’s glass.
“Everyone,” she said, “needs protection.”
Addien gave her a wry smile.
“You’ll deny it to your dying day, Addien Killoran—that you need anyone or anything,” Delilah said, with the surety of someone who understood exactly the code Addien lived by.
A firm rap sounded at the door.
When they didn’t answer quickly enough, another came—louder, more insistent.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Keep your trousers on,” Delilah said, crossing over to the front door. “I’m coming.” Delilah reached for the handle and looked back. “Stubborn is what you is girl. Not that I don’t understand that pride myself.”
Opening the door, two young servants bustled in with a tub between them. Right behind came a small army of newly rescued and hired lads and lasses, each carrying steaming buckets that sent curls of vapor into the air.
The gesture—and the lengths her friend had gone to for her comfort—hit Addien harder than she’d have liked. As Delilah had reminded her only moments ago, she didn’t take help, and she certainly never asked for it.
“Thank—”
“I didn’t see to it,” Delilah cut in gruffly. The pretty pink flush blooming on her cheeks, however, betrayed that she wished she had.
Their attention shifted to the doorway as the overseer of this small battalion of carers stepped inside.
Roy. His broad shoulders filled the frame, making the doorjambs seem narrow.
“Addien,” he said, his low baritone a hollow echo.
It was the first time he’d ever spoken her given name. She’d dreamed of it in secret, fallen asleep countless nights imagining him shaping those syllables. And yet, hearing it now felt strangely hollow, stripped of the masterful possession Malric gave it, as though he’d claimed it for his own.
“You got roughed up,” Roy said—not a question. The stunned certainty in his voice spoke volumes.
When she’d first arrived, he hadn’t even noticed her state. He’d been too absorbed in lording it over Malric, who’d ordered him about that morning.
His stunned response wasn’t unlike Malric’s—save for one critical difference. Malric’s shock had burned away in the space of a breath, fury rising in its stead…fury that would kill for her if she but let it.
Then as if she’d conjured him, he was there. Malric’s larger, more commanding shadow fell over Roy’s impressive figure. Malric, however, with his greater height and markedly broader shoulders, loomed like a darker, more dangerous version of Roy.
Roy stiffened, turning from Addien to face his superior officer.
The unspoken words—Here you are, lording over me once more—hung between them. The sentiment was plain enough in the sneer curling Malric’s lips.
Color rose beneath Roy’s slightly ragged beard, betraying the flush of a man who hated being called out, who bristled at the power Malric held over him.
Delilah let out a sharp whistle. “The gall of ya, Thornwick,” she snarled. “Findin’ fault with our very own Roy while you were off busy doin’ who knows what—while Addien here got herself all roughed—”
Malric winced.
“Delilah!” Addien snapped, giving true meaning to her nickname.
Instead of taking offense—and calling the woman out for her insolence and for challenging his authority in front of one of his men—Malric remained stoic. His hard lips pressed into an even harder grimace. Where shame had flushed the other guard’s cheeks red, Malric wore his own remorse in the pallor of bone-white skin.
When he spoke, his gaze belonged to Addien. “I would like a moment alone with Miss Killoran.”
Miss Killoran.It’d been the same way he’d referred to her at the baroness’s. That’d been for the nobility’s benefit, but here, with the other staff about, he could just drop that pretense…and didn’t. Funny how that left her all warm inside.
Delilah proved braver than Roy, who dipped his head reluctantly and slinked off, the young servants filing out behind him. All that remained was Malric, Addien, and Delilah.
