Page 10 of Greed: The Savage
Thornwick didn’t even wait to see if she followed but marched on ahead.
His perfectly tailored jacket, snug across the shoulders, shifted with him as he walked. Addien glared after him, hating the way those tightening seams mapped the strength beneath that superfine wool broadcloth.
Addien followed in his wake.
On the way to the carriage, neither she nor Thornwick exchanged a word, sharp quip, or any other form of exchange. By the time they reached the courtyard, when he finally looked for Addien, she’d caught up to him.
He stopped so abruptly, however, she ran headlong into him.
Cursing, Thornwick grabbed her by her shoulders and kept her on her feet with a firm grip. Unfortunately, with the force she’d run into him and the size of his not at all gentlemanlike broad, big, muscular body, all the air left her lungs.
Thornwick let loose another angry curse and retained his hold on her. A hold that was most unexpectedly gentle. Through the sapphire fabric, her shoulders tingled and shivered…
With disgust, an inner voice whispered.
Except, it didn’tfeellike disgust.
She’d been handled many times before by fellows in the street. Their holds had been almost as hard as Thornwick’s, but even more unforgiving. And in those moments, she’d always known loathing and dread. The absence of it with this man set loose an unfamiliar set of horror and terror within her.
Before she realized her intentions, she scrambled away from him.
“Why are you following me so closely?” he demanded.
Apparently, for all the ways in which Thornwick left her unsteady, she’d had no such effect on him. Which was more than fine. It was not only for the best. It was for the absolutebetterment of mankind. She didn’t want anything to do with a toff.
“Why are you stopping so quickly?” she riposted.
That same muscle in his mouth she delighted in setting off resumed its familiar—in her presence—tick.
“Let’s go,” he said curtly.
With an extravagant sweep of her arm that matched his earlier gesture, Addien motioned for the waiting conveyance with Lord Dynevor’s crest emblazoned in gold upon the door.
A faint smile ghosted the corner of Thornwick’s lips.
She drew back.
Surely not…
Surely it was merely a trick of the sunlight.
When the carriage was set into motion, heading for the finest end of London, Addien fought the urge to squirm on her bench. They were, at best, angry and reluctant partners in an assignment. At worst, they were mortal enemies in every other way. Unnerved by keeping close quarters with him, and unwilling to sit with that discomfort, Addien fixed her attention on, well, everywhere and anywhere that wasn’t him.
This marked only the second time she had been in such a grand conveyance. The first and last time before this one had been the day Lord Dynevor saved her from the hangman’s noose.
The second time being now.
The wonder of the carriage’s trappings still held the same ability to distract and awe Addien.
The walls were gilded, painted an actual gold. So bright its shine actually hurt her eyes. The plush, upholstered cushions were a crimson velvet, so soft they were finer than any makeshift structure or materials she’d fashioned into a bed over the years.
Her gaze landed on the crystal windows, brightly gleaming as the gold in the carriage, and her reverent expression stared back.And why shouldn’t she be awed? She could have lived in these quarters and happily for the rest of her life. This tiny space to nobility was a kingdom for people like her and—
In the makeshift mirror made by the window, her gaze collided with Thornwick’s wintry stare.
She instantly brought her features into a mask. She’d let herself slip, clearly. He’d caught her gawking like some pathetic ninny impressed by things.
Of course, he would mock her for it. That was his only way.
