Page 33 of Devil in Her Details

Drawing a deep breath, she leaned in, her lips parting slightly this time. They brushed against her skin, and she imagined a male mouth against hers. The thought had scarcely taken shape before movement caught the edge of her vision.

Lilly froze mid-practice, her gaze lifting to lock with the flat stare of Dagger.

Of all the possible moments for the man to appear . . . this was, without question, the worst! But one might reasonably argue she had been inspecting her hand. Very closely. With her lips.

Entirely normal.

One of his brows arched.

Her face burned.

If the earth swallowed her now, she would not object.

With great care—far too much care—she lowered her hand, arching a brow right back at him.

The man pushed the door open and entered, his gaze holding hers until he reached the counter she was positioned behind on a stool. Those dark eyes dropped to the dagger before lifting up to her again. “Did I interrupt your work?”

“Nothing of consequence,” Lilly said offhandedly. So what if he saw? If he asked, she could simply pretend she didn’t know what he was going on about. She had no reason to be ashamed.

Thank heavens, he didn’t press. Instead, he picked up the dagger laid out on the table. “You don’t seem to be struggling with the design.”

Lilly cleared her throat. “Well, these sorts of designs are nothing but a puzzle. Once you have a clear vision, it’s simply fitting each piece where it belongs. Are you here to inspect my progress?”

He fished something out and set it on the desk.

Curious, Lilly reached for the small tin, turning it over between her fingers. “What’s this?”

“Ointment,” he murmured. “For the bruises on your wrist.”

Her gaze returned to him, surprised. He bought her ointment? A bud of warmth sprouted in her breast and bloomed all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. “You didn’t have to do this. The bruises will be gone in a day or two.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tend to the injury.”

Lilly stroked a thumb over the small tin. “Well, thank you.”

He inclined his head, spinning the dagger idly between his fingers. “I also wanted to see if you still require my blade. Are you done with your measurements?”

Lilly smiled, sliding off the stool and setting the tin down. “Feeling lost without your steel? Don’t you have more?”

“Yes, and yes.”

She beckoned the knife back. “I think I’ll hold onto it for a little while longer. You can never say with measurements.” And for some reason, she felt safer with the dagger in her possession.

He placed the dagger softly into the palm of her outstretched hand, his fingers brushing hers. It occurred to her then, rather belatedly, that a kiss might prove the least dangerous part of their arrangement.

*

Dagger felt that touch burrowing deep into his bones. He flexed his fingers once she’d drawn away, half expecting the sensation to fade with the distance. It did not. And Christ, the sight of her small hand in his calloused one dug even damn deeper. The same hand she had against her lips earlier. Was it what he suspected? Had she been kissing her hand? Or had he misjudged whatever she was doing entirely? Regardless, her little display had brought forth the foreign urge to tease her, which he firmly snuffed out before it took root. Her earlier words, after all, had found their mark.

It’s simply fitting each piece where it belongs.

And he didn’t belong.

The perfect reminder of how they were worlds apart, and their worlds could never coexist. He already questioned his judgment as to whether a bastard like him could protect a duke’s daughter without destroying her reputation. Or even himself. But that was neither here nor there. He had already agreed. They had struck a deal, and once he gave his word, he never went back on it. Soon, she would return to her world fit for a lady. Best he remain as detached as possible and not become too entangled.

Her slender fingers wrapped around his dagger, and his chest constricted at the striking sight. “You haven’t had any trouble?”

She shook her head slowly. “No trouble.”