Page 13 of Curse of the Wicked Scoundrel (The Shadows 3)

Garric stepped back. “No, master. But she’s gone insane!”

Hades approached the bandit with long, ground-eating strides. “Where is she?”

Garric pointed his finger toward the door. “In her bedchamber.”

Good. He wasn’t getting much information from the laconic bandit. Better to find out what had happened on his own.

Hades left the library and walked toward Miss Gunning’s room with unhurried steps.

She’s gone insane,Garric had said. What could he have meant?

Hades had brought Miss Eloise Gunning to his mansion’s spacious, beautiful room. He had ordered his most respectable harlot to keep her fed and entertained. He had kept her away and protected her from the thugs in the house. What more did she want?

She might have missed her arse of a brother. But there was no way he was going to let her see him. Let the bastard suffer.

Hades didn’t want Miss Gunning to suffer, though. He had told her that she was a guest in the house, and he meant it. The only reason he had not visited her during the past three days was that he wanted her to feel comfortable in his home, and he doubted she’d feel comfortable with him around.

If he was truthful, there was another reason he had not visited her. A personal reason. A reason he would never confess out loud and one he kept shoved to the back of his mind. Ever since he first saw her in the thief-taker’s coffeehouse dungeon, he could not help but have his mind wander toward her.

She was beautiful and innocent. She was everything Hades was not and everything he never wanted to be. She was the opposite of everything that surrounded him daily.

And he wanted her.

He had wanted her right then and there and kept wanting her more with every passing moment.

But he couldn’t have her. So he kept that part of him hidden, shoved it to the back of his mind, never to see the light of day. And he resolved to see as little of her as he could while she stayed under his roof.

After all, the fact that he’d stolen her from her brother’s house was purely out of revenge and nothing else. And he wouldn’t ruin an innocent lady for the sins of her brother.

He only wanted to make the bastard suffer.

Hades slowed his steps even more once he neared Miss Gunning’s room. There was a sound of shattered glass. Then silence. A moment later, a thick thud. What was going on?

He reached the room and opened the door.

Something flew in the direction of the door, and Hades caught it. He looked down and saw that he held a small, antique hand-held looking glass.

Miss Eloise Gunning stood in the middle of the room, panting. Her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her breaths. Her cheeks were rosy, and she was enticingly disheveled. She swept a lock of hair behind her ear and regarded him steadily.

Hades looked around the room.She’s gone insanemight have been the correct description after all. A cup lay broken to pieces at one side, a chair broken at her feet, and a few other items strewn about the floor.

Hades raised a brow. “Do you know,” he said, unhurriedly entering the room while rolling the looking glass between his fingers, “that it is a bad omen to break a looking glass?”

“I do not believe in bad omens,” she answered immediately.

One side of Hades’ lips tugged in a barely noticeable smile. “Yet here you are,” he said and walked closer to her, crowding her.

Miss Gunning tilted her head back, baring her silky neck. Hades had trouble raising his eyes. She didn’t step back, did not look away like most people did. She looked him squarely in the eyes. Hades leaned forward. Their chests almost touched, and her face was a hair’s breadth away from his. She stood still, holding her breath.

Hades didn’t break eye contact as he gently set the looking glass back on the vanity table behind her and then straightened.

“I welcomed you into my home,” he said steadily.

She scoffed.

“I gave you the finest room in the mansion.”

“A prison,” she retorted.

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