Page 84 of Greed: The Savage
“Dunworthy’s attack,” he snarled, the words edged in rage. His pulse thundered, each beat thick with lethal intent. How in God’s name could she stand there so calm when the thought of what had—and worse—what almost happened to her still tore him apart?
Addien’s voice gentled. “Malric, I am all right.”
Gentled—like he was some wounded boy to be soothed. His teeth ground together.
“This is no different than anything I’ve—”
He closed the distance in a heartbeat, hands gripping her upper arms, dragging her into the hard wall of his chest. “It is different,” he growled, breath sharp against her cheek. “Very different.”
The memory of her pinned, of how near she’d come to true harm, knotted every muscle in his body, the rage curling tight and hot beneath his skin.
Her gaze searched his. “On account of you want me to be your marchioness?”
At last—she understood. “Yes.” The word was a vow, a claim. No woman bound to him would ever walk unguarded. Ever.
But his promise only seemed to harden her. The warmth drained from her eyes, narrowing them to cold slits.
“I will never be your duchess,” she said, final as steel—and the words cut through him deeper than any blade.
He narrowed his eyes.
He’d made many missteps this day with Addien Killoran—the greatest being he’d let her rejection matter.
He’d granted her too much power over him. Now he claimed it back. “You are not accompanying me today, madam—”
Addien sputtered.
“Or ever on this manner of assignment.”
Stricken, her cheeks gone wan, Addien clutched a hand to her breast.
A raw, relentless ache gnawed at his chest.
“Dynevor?” she whispered. “O-Or you?”
Thornwick shut his eyes hard.
God help him, he was only just discovering how truly powerless he was where this woman was concerned.
Setting his jaw, he turned to the mirror and began folding his cravat. “The both of us were of like opinion.” Thornwick delivered that with the same precision and detachedness he did all his work.
Her slender eyebrows came together. “Fine then.” Addien folded her arms. “Which one of you first had the idea you both agreed upon?”
Finishing off his cravat, he fetched his jacket. “Very well, Addien.” He shrugged one arm in and then the other. “Given the perilous state you found yourself in—”
“Do you not mean, the perilous state you put me in when you wentduchess-hunting?”
Her barb hit its mark square in the center of his chest. “I deserved that,” he said roughly.And more besides.
Addien closed her eyes. “No, you didn’t.” She released a sigh. “That was petty of me.”
The last thing he’d do was allow her to feel guilty on his account.
“You weren’t being petty. You were being truthful.” Thornwick buttoned his deep-sapphire frock coat. “Just as I am being with you now. I made the decision that you should sit out until further notice.”
“I do not want to be your marchi—”
By God, he would not hear her say it again.
