Page 52 of The Searching Songbird

“Please, I insist that you call me Miles. After all, with but one short meeting you've already captured my interest. You may as well have leave of my name, as well.”

What utter rot, Draven fumed to himself as he swallowed a derisive snort. Lily seemed to be of a like mind, given the dubious expression she wore as she gaped at the baron in confusion.

“You didn't seem all that... interested... the other day. Not that you weren't friendly, it's just... we've only just met...”

The baron took a step closer, leaning down into Lily's space, and Draven had to strain to catch his next words.

“Ah, but that was before I realized who you were, love.”

Lily took a tiny step backwards as she peered up at the baron's towering figure. Draven gripped the sides of the table as he fought against the increasing urge to leap across the room and bloody the sleazy bastard.

“Who I am? Are you referring to The Four Flowers?”

The baron waved a dismissive hand. “I've heard about the little ensemble group you used to play around with. Which, by the way, was a complete waste of your talents. A woman with your lineage should be performing on grand stages, not traveling from town to town with a bunch of gypsies.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as she glared up at the man. “Those Kalo I traveled with are my family. I won't have you -” She stopped all of a sudden, and her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, what do you mean by my lineage?”

The baron's lips curled into a smug grin as he replied, “Like I said before, I know who you are...” He leaned forward, dropping his head down and whispering something in her ear. Whatever it was, it made her eyes go as wide as dinner plates.

“What do you know?” she breathed, her soft entreaty falling short of Draven's ears but still visible upon her lips.

“I know a great many things, love,” the baron murmured, letting his suggestive gaze roam over her body.

I'll kill him, Draven vowed, his vision blurring with barely contained rage. I'll tear those beady eyes right out of their sockets and shove them down his throat.

“As for what I know about you, well...” The baron flicked his gaze around the room, pausing briefly as it landed on Draven. His eyes narrowed and a hard glint passed over them, there one moment and gone the next, as he turned back to Lily. “That is something better discussed in private. Say, at my place over dinner? Tonight?”

Say no. The man is a lunatic. Draven bit back a groan as Lily nodded her consent. “Tonight would be fine.”

The baron grinned as he brushed the back of his fingers against Lily's cheek. “Excellent. I'll send a carriage round this evening.” With one last wink, he made his exit, leaving Lily standing alone at the bottom of the stairs. She watched him go, her gaze remaining fixed on the door long after it closed behind him, a look of intense concentration on her face. When she at last turned to face the room, it was to find Draven staring back at her with raised eyebrows. Instantly, her face fell back into a guarded mask, and Draven felt his chest tighten at the sight of it.

What happened to the woman I held in my arms just a few days ago?

With a growl, he shot to his feet and prowled over to her, wrapping a firm but gentle hand around her wrist as she started to step back. “We need to talk.”

She glared at him, pulling her hand back with a jerk, and he let the slender wrist slip free.

“Go ahead and talk.”

“Not. Here.”

“If you're going to insist on a private dinner, as well, I'm afraid I'll have to check my schedule,” she said with an imperious tone. “I'm quite booked up at the moment.”

“This isn't a damn joke,” he hissed through his teeth. He cast a quick look around to see if anyone was paying them any attention before lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “That's the man you've been looking for, isn't it? You lied about not finding him, and now you're making dinner dates with him. What the hell are you thinking, Lily? He's a bloody monster!”

Lily lifted her chin as she held his gaze. After a moment, the hard edge that darkened her blues to navy softened, giving way to an aching sadness that made Draven want to scoop her up and run off to some faraway land where there were no sadistic barons and demanding bosses hovering in the wings, just waiting to make a mess of things.

“I never said he was the one from my vision,” she murmured, shifting her gaze to some point beyond his shoulder. “You're making assumptions.”

“Don't.” Draven's voice cracked under the weight of the emotion that held him in its grasp. He cleared his throat. “Don't lie to me. Not about this.”

That brought her focus back on him, a spark lighting up her eyes as she let out an incredulous laugh. “Don't lie to you?” She snorted. “Because you're the epitome of open honesty, is that right? Draven?”

He balked at the implications in her voice. Oh, gods. She knows. But how much? Before he could sort out his thoughts on the matter, she turned and retreated up the stairs, pausing on the fourth step as she looked down at him in disdain.

“I thank you for your assistance up until now, but I believe I shall handle my business myself from here on out. You are officially released from duty. Good day, Mr. Grant.”

And with a toss of her long, blonde hair, she ran up the remainder of the steps and disappeared from view.