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She’d ignored her instincts. Her common sense. Let a moment of raw desire overtake every sane thought she owned.
She should have stuck to vengeance. It was easier.
“Sloane.” Reiner moved behind her, so close she could feel his heat along her bare shoulders. “I know this is messy and wrong and I wish I knew the truth of the matter myself right now. I won’t know until I’m back at Wolfbridge and can look into the papers. But I needed you to know so if I am wrong about it, you won’t be caught unaware later.”
“Caught unaware?” She spun to him. “Caught unaware? That is exactly what this is, Reiner. You swore to me you had nothing to do with it—and now—now what? A day later and maybe you did do it? What am I supposed to do with this information? My brother died.Died.”
She whipped back to her valise, yanking it open and reaching in. Her stays, crumpled in the corner. The only dress she had now stuffed haphazardly into the bag.
This wasn’t how she’d packed it. Her clothes had been half-folded when she had tossed them back into the bag yesterday. Careless, yes, but not stuffed with all disregard to wrinkles.
Her mouth went dry as she started yanking garments from her bag. “Tell me you didn’t go through my bag, Reiner.”
He didn’t say a word.
She ripped her dress free from the bag, digging, tossing stockings and gloves to the floor by her feet. “Did you go through my blasted bag, Reiner?”
“I did.” The words came out in a sigh.
Hell.He wouldn’t have.
She reached the bottom of the valise, her fingers shaking as she worked her nails into the lining to flip the false bottom upward.
Her nails setting hold, she tugged up the bottom flap.
The red leather book sat in its place, just as she’d left it.
Her breath held, she flipped open the cover and thumbed the pages to the air. The rows and columns of names and items and numbers, just as before.
The air in her chest stuck, unable to move outward or inward.
Her brow furrowed and she looked over her shoulder at him.
“What?” Fear struck through his brown eyes. “The book?” He ripped the bag from her hands and looked in the bottom. He exhaled relief.
She stared at his profile, her words breathless as she still could not find the air in her lungs. “You knew where the book was?”
His mouth pulled back in a terse line as he set the valise on the table and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, I did. I found it after you left the room yesterday before I went after you.”
“You found it, yet you left it in there?”
He looked to the book and his lips pulled inward for a long moment as he shook his head. A man on his way to the gallows. “I did, but I didn’t want you to know I pawed through your belongings.”
“But why? Why not take the book? It’s what you came here for.”
His look whipped to her, his eyes narrowing as his voice dipped into a barely controlled roar. “I came here for you, Sloane. You. How many times do I have to tell you that?” His body turned to her, his bare chest grazing her breasts. “The book—yes—it’s what I told myself I was after—what I was here for. But when I found it…”
“What?”
“When I found it I realized it was just an excuse. I’m irate you took it, yes. Livid, actually. But when I saw it, I instantly wished I never had. It was just a bloody excuse.” His hands went to the sides of her face, his palms cupping her jawline. “Because it was you. You are what I was here for. You. And that damn book—you can take it and do whatever the hell you want with it.”
Her breath finally dislodged from her chest in a rushing exhale and her head went light. He could have taken the book yesterday and disappeared.
But he didn’t.
He stayed.
Stayed for her.
