Grievous (Wanted Men #5) - Nancy Haviland Page 0,82

and Claude would have been welcomed into my life as a couple. I would have proudly given them the grandest wedding if that had been my brother’s wish. He could do no wrong, Yasmeen. Had he found his pleasure murdering children, I would have found a reason to excuse such an atrocity. He could do no wrong.”

She was shrinking back from him again. He didn’t let her see how it bothered him that she would do so when he was only being honest, at her request. Why did that bother him rather than annoy him?

“Uh, I guess it’s lucky Markus was such a good man then, huh?”

“He was a great man,” he corrected as she slipped out of his hold and stood.

She put her hand out, but instead of taking it, he focused on the blood on her chest. He looked away when an image formed where that blood became hers. He shook it out of his head, feeling nauseous. Not her, too.

“Come with me, Lucian. We’ll take this somewhere more private.”

“I would like to have you right here.” He needed her next to him. Beneath him. Where he would know she was sheltered.

She stepped back and a shiver shook her frame. It wasn’t a sign of desire.

“Sorry,” she whispered. Then she turned and ran.

She didn’t trust him, he realized as he watched the picture she made fleeing from him. A part of her feared him. He slowly got to his feet. Such a brilliant woman, his pet.

But should she fear him when she seemed to be the only one who could reach him?

“Should I do as she suggested and send Gheorghe and Claude home?”

Lucian wasn’t surprised when Sorin’s voice and footsteps came from behind. Had he been lurking, protecting his newly acquired charge from the same direction she’d just fled, Lucian wouldn’t have known. But because the draft going through the hall had sent his guard’s familiar scent passing by them, his presence had been noted.

“Yes. Their presence…” He dug his thumb and finger into his eyes for a hard rub. “Yes. Send them home.”

“Lucian.”

Even though Sorin’s voice was quiet, Lucian felt the weight of it on his shoulders. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do this. “Yes?” he said anyway.

A heavy hand landed on his nape. “I was wrong. I am relieved you were smart enough to bring her here with you.” Sorin squeezed. “Now if only you would allow her in.”

EIGHTEEN

Yasmeen paced beside the bed. She wanted to change. She looked down at the ruined nightgown that was making her feel like Cinderella after the stepsisters had gotten through with her.

“Oh, God.” She shook out her hands and retrace her steps, freezing when she met two itty-bitty black eyes. “Really? Really?” she whispered harshly at the little gray mouse even as her gaze flashed to the closed bedroom door. “That ship sailed Gus-Gus. He’s fucking looped, and I can’t help him. Look at me, for Christ’s sake.” She pointed to the blood on her breasts with one hand and her collar with the other. “A Cinder-fucking-rella fairy tale this is not!”

The mouse twitched his nose at her and continued to stare her down from where it was attempting to hide in the shadow of the dresser. She flipped the cute little idiot off and watched as it scampered across the floor and into a dark area in the corner. She wanted to join—

A high-pitched shriek escaped her when the door opened to allow her mad Romanian into the room.

His brows slammed down, his expression instantly aggressive, murderous. He came right over to invade the personal space she’d never really had around him. And, goddammit, did his touch have to be so reverent?

“What is it, draga?”

You! “Uh, I saw a mouse.” She was surprised she didn’t cringe when she said that. She used to sit in alleys and toss rocks at bullying rats until they took off and let the smaller ones eat. Vermin didn’t bother her. The vacant expression Lucian had worn a few minutes ago had.

“A mouse?”

She blinked when his lip twitched. It actually twitched. She watched closely. “Yeah. Uh, a mouse. It was staring at me. I told it off, and it ran away.” She pointed to the corner and felt her knees turn to water when the lines in his face shifted.

He smiled.

And she was blinded. She stared at him the same way she stared at those rare pieces an artist unveiled for the first time. The ones that spoke to