How to Steal a Thief's Heart - Bree Wolf Page 0,113

become invisible.

Like before.

And then her eyes found him.

Standing amongst the crowd, Pierce looked at her with such awe in his eyes that her throat closed up and her eyes filled with tears as she saw the reaction she’d been hoping for the night before.

He saw her. He truly saw her. He saw not only the gown and the hairdo and the missing spectacles. He saw her trembling nerves and her misting eyes. He saw the courage it had taken her to do this, and he saw the meaning this moment held for her.

Pierce saw all that and more. It shone in his dark gaze as he looked at her, his eyes holding hers as though something connected them, something that could never be broken, something she could no longer live without.

Oh, yes, she wanted him.

Him, and no other.

And then her gaze jerked sideways—why, she couldn’t say—and landed on a familiar face. A face that had given new meaning to the phrase the devil incarnate.

With a sly smile, Coleridge moved closer to Pierce from behind, finding his way through the crowd, his cold green eyes focused like a predator circling its prey. He walked swiftly, and before Caroline could form a clear thought, he accidentally bumped into Pierce.

Caroline froze, aware that Pierce had not even taken note of the other man, his eyes still glowing as he looked at her.

And then Coleridge suddenly moved away, cutting his way through the crowd and toward the entrance, his cold green eyes rising to look at her. She saw his lips curve into an appreciative smile as his gaze swept over her changed appearance. Still, where Pierce’s look of awe had sent a warm tingle through her body, Coleridge’s chilled her to her bones.

“Ah, here comes Lord Coleridge,” her father exclaimed beside her, joy warming his voice, which sent a sickening feeling through Caroline’s stomach. “He looks most appreciative.”

Caroline tried to swallow the lump in her throat as her teeth ground together in anger.

“This is it,” her mother whispered from her other side, excitement lending her voice a youthful note. “This is it. Soon, you’ll be a viscountess. There’s no doubt about it. Mark my words.”

When Lord Coleridge eventually reached them, glancing behind himself for a quick moment as the crowd reluctantly began to disperse, still casting eager eyes at the new arrivals, he greeted them with manners that were all but flawless. His green eyes shone attentively, and his smile was dazzling…or would have been if it were not for the black soul lurking underneath. “You look quite changed tonight, Miss Hawkins,” he complimented her, his gaze raking over her form with obvious approval. “Stunning, to be precise.” He turned to look at her mother. “No doubt it was your patience and encouragement that sees her now blossomed from a caterpillar into a butterfly.”

Caroline frowned. Had he just called her a caterpillar?

A snort rose in her throat, and she barely managed to force it back down. Pierce had always called her his little mouse, and although she’d first taken affront, she now saw it as the most endearing name anyone had ever called her.

Her mother smiled graciously. “You’re too kind, my lord,” she beamed, casting a warm glance at Caroline.

Caroline could have groaned. If only they knew!

Curses and insults drifted into her mind as she stared at the man before her, her blood boiling with the need to slap him, to yell into his face, to claw his eyes out. After all he had done, after all he had done to others, to poor little Daphne and her parents, he had the audacity to stand here in front of her and smile as though his heart knew nothing but kindness.

“Is something wrong, my dear Miss Hawkins?” Coleridge asked, a slight frown coming to his brows. “You look a tad upset.”

That certainly had to have been the understatement of the century!

“Oh, you’re mistaken, my lord,” Caroline’s mother chimed in. “She’s merely overcome by your kind words. In fact, she confessed to us only this morning that she has an answer to give you.” Almost bouncing in her shoes, her mother exchanged a look with her father, who looked equally giddy with glee.

Lord Coleridge’s smile deepened, like that of a wolf certain to have a sheep cornered. “Is that so, my dear?”

Caroline felt utterly tempted to plant her fist in his smug face. Instead, she smiled at him and took a slow step forward, aware of how his eyes followed her, their green bright and