Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,70

of desire she’d cast.

Tynan straightened. “And?” he bit out.

“You implied your family was dead.”

“They are,” his response came automatic.

Fire flashed in Faye’s eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. That—”

He balled his hands. “The world can’t know of her existence, Faye.” The words exploded from him. “The world cannot know, because of the enemies I have and the peril Sara would face were her link to me discovered.” Sara’s identity, which he’d kept secret from the world, had been, at last, uncovered, and why did it not surprise him in the least that the resolute Faye Poplar would be the one to do it?

“Oh,” she said. Her eyes moved over his face, their expression veiled and vague as she probed him. “I didn’t…”

Tynan, who’d faced down adversaries of all stations, found himself unable to meet her stare. He glanced away. “You didn’t what, Faye?” he asked tiredly, then filled in the rest of her unfinished thought for her. “Know that you were putting my sister at risk by following me? That there was someone I actually love and care about? You didn’t know because you weren’t supposed to, Faye,” he gritted out. Tynan gave his head a frustrated shake. “God help Polite Society.”

Pursing her lips, Faye donned a black scowl that would have withered any other man. “What exactly is that supposed to mean, Tynan Wylie?” she asked in dangerously quiet tones.

“It means exactly what you think,” he snapped. “There is nothing you aren’t capable of doing or figuring out. Whatever secrets they have been hiding, you’re going to find them and wreak the same damned havoc that you have on my life, Faye Poplar.

Her tense mouth went soft. By the dreamy cast to her eyes, he might as well have fetched a star and set it in her hand. “You believe I can do anything,” she said softly.

Tynan recoiled. That would be the piece she’d heard.

Good God, he’d stepped into it now.

Chapter 17

Everyone underestimated Faye.

Nay, that wasn’t altogether accurate. After all, one would have to see her and know she existed in order to underestimate her. But she hadn’t been someone to ever earn anyone’s attention. Not before her family’s crimes had come to light and certainly not after.

Now, Tynan Wylie, the unlikeliest of men not only saw her, but he believed she was capable of achieving the very goal she’d set for herself.

Faye took a step toward him, and towering-tall, muscular Mr. Wylie retreated. Faye, however, continued coming until the backs of his legs collided with the chair his sister had previously occupied, and he stopped.

“Thank you.” At his perplexed look, she clarified, “For saying what you did about me and Polite Society.”

A strained laugh escaped him, and he brushed it away with the back of his hand. “I didn’t mean it as a compliment.”

“Oh.” Faye smiled. “Even so, I am grateful for your faith in my abilities. Not many people believe me capable of…”

She will never wed. She isn’t even remotely pretty or capable of holding comfortable conversation. She is an oddity. How have we sired a daughter so very different than our other children?

A wistfulness swept through her, and she gave her head a clearing shake. “Well, much.”

“No one said the nobility were a clever lot,” he muttered.

Faye stilled. Her heart forgot to beat as, in that moment, she was fairly certain she lost a piece of herself to Tynan Wylie. The sentiment was as dangerous as the man himself. Nay, more so. Because it could never be anything more, particularly as he made no attempt to hide his frequent annoyance with her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, a wealth of weariness to that question. This time, he edged sideways to escape her, and Faye let him go.

God, did he see everything? “I don’t know how I’m looking at you.” She could, however, only imagine, and Faye’s toes curled up tight in the soles of her boots. “What I do know,” she went on, swiftly diverting their talk back to something far safer, “is that it does not come as any shock or surprise to me, Tynan, that you are capable of love and caring.” Faye captured one of his hands in hers and caressed knuckles still bruised and swollen and raw from having defended her. She raised them to her mouth and dropped a light kiss upon them.

His entire body seized. His hand tensed in hers.

“I know it because I’ve seen the way you look after the boys,” she said. The guilt of