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“Shock is no saint, I grant you. But your father has the motive, the connections, and the history. Deceit runs in the Le Fay blood.”
“That’s my blood, too. Do you think I’m guilty?”
Chapter Forty
Marrok
“I did not say such. I merely point out that you know Richard not,” I dodge her question. “‘Tis also possible that Mathias coerced your father into compliance. He is evil in a way you can scarcely fathom.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that…”
“And if he procured the book, Mathias might well forgive your father’s transgressions. Richard could regain his life. No more watching his back.” I sigh and tread carefully. “You do not wish to believe the father you have long sought may not be all you imagined, I know. But please consider that, to save his hide, he might be willing to forfeit the daughter he hardly knows.”
Her expression turns mulish. “I won’t believe that without proof. Where I come from, people are innocent until proven guilty.”
Every instinct screams at me to keep her safe, yet how can I if she refuses to see danger lurking in her family tree? Still, I have said my piece, and arguing will only get me kicked out of her bed—where I can neither protect nor claim her.
“Where I come from, suspicion was enough. But I convict him not in my mind, merely ask you to consider all the possibilities,” I placate. “We cannot know his influences or intentions. If I could prove who had divulged the book’s whereabouts to Mathias, I would know better how to protect it.”
She reaches for a dressing gown that Sabelle brought earlier and drapes it over her curves. Once she secures it around her waist, she pulls loose her wet towel. I lament that I saw not her silky-soft body.
“True.” She finger-combs the wet strands of her long, midnight hair, heedless of the fact I ache to help. “But we don’t know, and we have to hide the book now.”
We. Does she offer because she wishes to help her mate? Will she keep the information strictly between us? Or will she tell her father to curry his favor and win his love?
“Indeed.”
She glances at the little red volume on the table. “Where? I don’t think it’s wise to hide it where we can’t guard it. Otherwise, Bram will track it down.”
“I thought as much.”
“And I’ll try my best to keep my thoughts to myself this time.”
Upon weighing all the risks and rewards, allowing Olivia to help hide the book serves multiple purposes. It keeps us together. With some instruction, ’tis possible she can conceal the book in magical ways. And if the hiding place makes it back to Richard Gray… Well, then I will know how willing she is to please the man. That is key. Protecting and needing her, yet wondering if she will ultimately choose him, will weaken me. I want to believe in the honesty shining from her eyes. But if she betrays me…I will know where her loyalties lie.
That misery would be more hellish than anything I’ve suffered thus far.
A brief knock resounds through the room. Growling, I wrench it open the door enough to see who disturbs our peace.
A servant hands me clothes that Sabelle altered to fit us. After a quick thanks, Olivia disappears to change in the bathroom, while I don the trousers. Everything fits perfectly. Bram’s sister truly has mastered magical domesticity.
“Wow!” Olivia emerges in a pair of jeans and a simple black V-neck shirt that cling to her breasts and hips as if they were made for her.
She has refused the fucking I ache to give her, but wondering if she wears a bra is making my new jeans too tight in uncomfortable places.
I clear my throat. “Have you ideas where to hide the book?”
Olivia scans the room. “There aren’t many places here.”
“I reached the same conclusion.”
“But I was thinking…”
Before she can say what’s on her mind, another knock echoes through the room. I tug the door open again with rising impatience. I tug it open with rising impatience. If Bram and his staff intend to be down our bloody throats, Olivia and I will stay elsewhere, risk be damned.
In the threshold, Bram’s sister stands with a hesitant smile. She may be the most beautiful female I—or any other man—will ever set eyes on. She seems the soul of kindness and gentle temper, but intelligence and cunning lay behind those blue eyes.
“Sorry for the interruption. I merely wanted to see… Oh, splendid. The clothes fit.”
