In the Dark with the Duke by Christi Caldwell Page 0,49

to a lone candle lit on his desk, and then inhaled from the cheroot.

“He will,” Hugh said. He had to. And then it would be done.

“There remains one other bit of business to discuss.” Bragger took a long draw from his cheroot, all the while glaring at Hugh over that scrap. He exhaled out the side of his mouth.

Aye, there was not to be any escaping the discussion.

“What was she doing here?”

“Lessons, wasn’t it?” Maynard asked, dropping a hip against Bragger’s table.

Hugh kept his face a careful mask through their baiting. “I didn’t see any reason to refuse her.”

“We’re this close to bringing down the ringleader of the Foight Society.” Bragger brought his thumb and forefinger so close they nearly touched. “And yar ’ere, entertaining a woman?” He sharpened a hard stare on Hugh. “There’s only one woman we’re focused on.” A muscle tensed at the corner of Bragger’s mouth. “Or we should be. Ya ’aven’t been, though, ’ave ya?” He glanced to Maynard.

“’e ’asn’t,” the other man agreed with a nod. “Not the first toime it’s ’appened, either, is it?”

Guilt scissored through him. It would always be there. Remorse. Shame. Regret. For having put himself first, and left so many others to perish.

“Seems like that’s just another person Savage has gone and forgotten.” Bragger flashed another icy smile. “Instead of keeping our energies focused on where they should be, ’e’s busy with some fancy piece he doesn’t know shite about.”

“This is the closest we’ve been to finding the ones who tortured us . . . and Val,” Maynard reminded.

That deliberate pause and slight emphasis sent the blade of guilt twisting all the more. Val and justice were where all his energies belonged. What kept him from providing his partners the assurances they sought? Why couldn’t he just inform Lila March their arrangement was off? “I’ve given my word,” Hugh said firmly. “And it won’t interfere in what we’re doing here.”

Bragger shrugged. “Damned straight it won’t.” Ice filled his eyes. “And let us be clear, ya ’ave a debt to pay. Ya ain’t a partner.”

Hugh stiffened. It was the first time that truth had been stated aloud.

“We’re done with this discussion about yar visitor. I don’t want her in this arena.”

Hugh steeled his jaw. “She’s not a distraction.” Liar. You’ve thought of nearly nothing else except her since you came upon her in the alley ’round back, and given not a single thought to those we intend to have vengeance on.

“It’s done, Savage,” Bragger said curtly. “We can’t afford to ’ave people about we can’t trust.”

With that, the proprietors left.

The other men were right. Lila March represented nothing more than a distraction. As such, it should be altogether easy enough to sever his ties.

So why did the idea of ending it with the spirited minx leave him oddly bereft?

Chapter 12

After their explosive moment of passion and then ultimate discovery by his friends, Lila hadn’t known what she was expecting when she returned for her lessons with Hugh the next morn.

Nay, she’d ruminated about all manner of possibilities: stilted awkwardness. A heated tension born of remembered passion.

What she’d not expected, however, was to find him waiting outside, his arms clasped behind him, at the top of the nineteen and a half steps where they’d first met. As if he’d been waiting for her arrival, as if he were restless for a mere glimpse of her.

Her heart hammered, and a smile pulled at her lips as she came to meet him.

“Good morning, Hu—”

“This isn’t going to work.”

Lila’s legs ground to a halt under her, and through the clamoring confusion in her mind came but one word: “What?”

“You can’t be here.” He stole a glance around. As if fearing they were even now being watched. And it was a staggering moment of truth . . . discovering that even a man such as Hugh Savage was capable of disquiet.

That vulnerability made him real in ways that he’d not been before now. It made him even more into one whom she could relate with and connect to.

Lila arched an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get out of our arrangement?” she demanded. Except . . . she’d known him but a handful of days, yet knew enough that Hugh Savage wasn’t a man who’d go back on his word. Not without reason.

Hugh dragged a hand through his hair. “No. That’s not what this . . . is.”

Understanding dawned. “It’s because of your partners, then.”

His mouth tautened, blanching the skin at the corners of his lips