Page 156 of Her Beast

“Because I’m askingyou,damnit!”

Smith picked a piece of lint from his sleeve before looking up. “She saw you in your gymnasium, so she’s seen your arm and neck. She knows what is beneath your clothing.”

“When? How—? Never mind!” he snapped before the other man could speak. “My arm is a far cry from my face and you know it.”

Smith heaved a put-upon sigh that made Malcolm want to strangle him.

“And why are you talking about such things with a woman you’ve only met once—well, twice. Or have you been sneaking into my house daily?” Malcolm wouldn’t put it past the man.

Smith grinned at that. “I’d like to say that women just trust and confide in me”—Malcolm snorted—“but the truth is that I am the only source of information Julia has about you and she’s smart enough to use me.”

“And you’re devious enough to encourage her.”

Smith ignored the accusation. “Let Julia hear the truth and allowherto make her own decision, Malcolm. I think you will be surprised by how she views matters.”

Malcolm stared down at his clenched fists, fighting the hope that his friend kept throwing at him.

“I know revenge will not bring her—them—back, Smith. But I cannot allow those bastards to go about their lives without punishment, even if it means I destroy what Julia might feel for me.” He looked up. “They have beenruthlessin their pursuit of what they want. Not only the fire that did this to me, but another in New York that killedfivepeople.” He squeezed his eye shut at the horror of what that family had suffered.

“I know about that, Malcolm,” Smith said softly. “And I also know more.”

He opened his eye and gave a soft, disbelieving laugh. “And you think telling me that makes me want to pull back from what I am about to unleash?”

“I don’t want you to pull back.”

“I don’t understand? You just said—”

“There is one more thing you should know, Malcolm. One thing that will tip the scales irrevocably.”

“What?” Malcolm asked, afraid to hear his answer.

Smith opened his mouth, but a loud rap on the door stopped him before he could speak.

“What the hell do you want, Butkins?” Malcolm raged when his secretary entered.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but it’s Mr. Harlow—he is downstairs in the store. He refuses to leave. The guards have taken him into the stockroom, but he is causing quite a commotion, demanding to see you.”

“It’s not like Tommy to make a scene,” Smith said.

Butkins cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. I should have said it wasBrianHarlow, not Thomas Harlow.”

Malcolm opened his mouth to tell Butkins to summon the police to deal with the man—and that he would see Brian when he bloody well wanted to see him.

But Smith spoke first. “Show Mr. Harlow up.”

Both Malcom and Butkins gawked at him.

Smith met Malcolm’s disbelieving gaze and shrugged. “Once I tell you what I came to say you will relish what you have to do, rather than feel guilty. I promise you.”

Malcolm hesitated a long moment and then turned to Butkins. “Bring him up—make sure nobody sees him.”

When the door closed behind his secretary Malcolm turned to Smith and said, “Now, tell me this piece of information that you think will make me easy about destroying a young woman’s life.”

Chapter 32

At almost fifty years of age, Brian Harlow still managed to look golden and angelic—at least at first glance.

But as the other man came closer Malcolm wasn’t surprised to see that his blond curls had become brittle, the gold color too bright for nature. His rounded face, so like Julia’s, had hollowed, and his body, once pleasingly slender, was now spare and gaunt.

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