Page 18 of The Faceless Queen

“I’ll take that,” Geoffrey said, grinning ear to ear as he reached for the purse.

Brennan easily handed over the money, a grimness in his expression. Pointedly, he turned from Geoffrey to face me. “May I?” he asked, holding his arm out.

Geoffrey’s eyes turned snake-like, watching carefully as I stepped into Brennan’s space.

“Enjoy yourselves," he said, and stalked away, pushing several men aside as he entered the crowd, moving toward Finlay. He was already speaking with Rowan. And beyond them was Kienan, back at the bar, his dark-haired head moving back and forth between his two friends.

Brennan already looked worried, his eyes moving furtively down my arms, my stomach, looking for any sign of injury. He would not find any even if they were there. He never would.

“I apologize that I could not come sooner. How are you tonight?” he asked.

A smile spread across my lips. “Much better now that you’re here,” I said, my voice sultry, my eyes blinking up at him. It was exactly what I’d say to a mark.

But Brennan looked wary of my flirtation. “Truly, I regret missing your performance.”

“Well, let’s not waste another moment then.” I slid my hand down his arm until our palms touched, our fingers entwined.

And finally, the Azete inside me found something on which it could feed. There was desire, and lust. But it was tampered down with so much more. Care, concern, protectiveness … friendship.

Brennan nodded, and a moment later, we were back in my room, the door closed, the fireplace lit, and the torch flickering against the wall. Robins chirped outside the window.

“I have something for you,” he said, reaching beneath his green cloak. He produced another purse, even larger than the last.

My mouth fell open.

“I had a feeling,” he said, “that he might take the other for himself. So, I brought this one for you.”

The backs of my eyes warmed, and I shook my head. “It’s too much.”

“No. It’s nothing. You deserve far more.” He reached in again, and this time held out a small wooden box. He pulled the lid back, revealing a small first aid kit with bandages and ointments that smelled of fresh lavender. “In case you needed it,” he said. “Even though you seem to heal quite quickly.”

My stomach dropped. Once again, he was too close to the truth.

“I promise, I heal like anyone else,” I said. But I wanted to move away from the topic, from any chance of him guessing the truth. To finish what I started. So like last night, I slowly removed my necklace, letting the gold flash across my breasts, hoping to entice him into something more. Something simple.

His eyelids were heavy as he followed my movements, his cheeks flushed. And the smallest trickle of lust began to flow to me, sinking into my skin, but it was mixed with something else. Something protective. Something caring.

“Can you help me with this?” I asked, turning my back to him, my hands reaching for the ties of my bra.

“The ink dried,” Brennan said suddenly.

I whirled back to face him. “The ink?” I frowned.

“On the contract. The marriage contract,” he clarified. “As of this morning, I am officially betrothed.”

For some reason, though I knew this was happening, Brennan was nothing more than a means to an end for me, and he had an entire life I was not and would never be a part of. My stomach sank. Violently.

“Shall I offer you congratulations?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. The flames in the fireplace flickered, and small wisps of smoke rose to the ceiling.

“I think I’ve been offered enough to last me a lifetime.” He sounded miserable.

“And then you came here.” There was a slight rustling of wind against the windowpane.

“I told you I would.”

“I know. You keep your word,” I said.

His eyes met mine, his lips pressed tightly together. “I try.”