Page 53 of Bombshell

“No,” I admit, shaking my head. “I’ve never really thought of him as having a killer instinct.”

“It’s not the killer instinct, as you say. Some wolves are quite loyal, but only to their kind. He sees my Poppy as a lamb.” Her hand flutters. “It doesn’t matter. Perhaps, it’s my name. I find myself seeing the animal in everyone.”

“Poppy is right about me. I’m a goat,” I say with a laugh.

“Yes,” she says hesitantly. “There’s something else, though.”

“What?” I ask breathlessly, remembering how she studied me earlier.

“I’m not sure yet,” she admits. “I suppose we’ll have to spend more time together.” She turns away. “All of the linens have been changed. You look like you could use a nap.”

I try to smile brightly, hoping to counter whatever signs of exhaustion I’m showing. “Thank you again, Aja. I’ll see you this evening.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

The smile falls from my face as the door closes behind her. I like Aja. I love Landry Hall and the Bookery, but I can’t shake the sense that Aja sees right through me to the secrets I’m keeping. The question is can I keep the most important one hidden from her unsettling eyes?

“Do you think she knew?” Sterling asks, breaking into the story.

“I don’t know. Maybe I was paranoid. Poppy and Cyrus didn’t seem to have a clue, but Aja?” I shake my head. “Yes, I think she did.”

“What happened next?” he asks. “When did you tell Poppy?”

I take a deep breath, preparing to shock him. “That’s just it. I didn’t.”

“We should go riding tomorrow,” Poppy suggests after dinner. We’ve gathered in a large salon off the dining room. There’s none of the uncomfortable period furniture I expected to find behind the Austenesque facade of Landry Hall. Instead, deep-cushioned sofas cluster around a stone hearth.

“You’ve had too much wine,” I tell her. The rest of them are on their second bottle. I’m hoping no one notices that I’m only pretending to sip my first glass.

Poppy cocks an eyebrow. “You love riding, and this estate is beautiful.”

“Cyrus doesn’t ride,” I point out, grasping for an excuse.

“I can ride,” he says. “Unless you’re going to show off.”

“Adair can’t help showing off on a horse,” Poppy says with a giggle.

“What does that mean?” I ask with a frown.

“Only that you didn’t even notice that time I got caught in the tree,” she says.

“I’m not the one that didn’t duck,” I remind her, but I can’t help laughing at the memory. I’d taken Poppy at her word that she was a seasoned rider. In fairness, she was—just not as much as I was. I’d left her behind, dangling from an oak tree.

“You only noticed I was missing when my horse rode by with an empty saddle.” She pours herself more wine as we all laugh. She holds out the bottle, looking surprised when I hold up a full glass.

“I’m so tired. I’ll fall asleep on you,” I warn her. The excuse passes inspection, but when I glance over I find Aja watching me.

“Perhaps, riding should wait,” she says after a moment, “for another visit.”

My stomach flips over. I tell myself that she’s only trying to decide what animal she sees in my eyes, but I can't lie to myself. Aja isn’t just studying me, she’s dissecting me. Whatever she sees is behind her suggestion and my disinterest is only fueling her speculation.

“You’re right. We should go riding,” I blurt out, eager to dispel whatever suspicion she has about me.

“As long as you go easy on me,” Cyrus says.

“Of course,” I say quickly, grateful that he’s here suddenly. Poppy’s been riding long enough to keep up with me. But if Cyrus is along, we’ll have a reason to be more cautious. I’d asked the midwife about riding. She’d told me it was okay in the first trimester if I took extra care after I’d assured her that I knew what I was doing on a horse. I’m in my second trimester now, but barely showing. I haven’t even felt the baby move yet. Going slowly, everything will be fine.

“I would join you, but my hip hasn’t allowed me to ride for years,” Aja says sadly.