Page 48 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
“—I said I didn’t read it, not that I didn’t know the story.”
“Right, so then you know that the murder in that book has to do with state secrets and national security, and if Knight and his medical examiner partner Briggs don’t solve the murder in time, hundreds of people will die?”
“Yes. . .” she said slowly. “Are you saying that hundreds of people will die if you don’t find the murderer?”Confusion burned a hole in her stomach as Emrys nodded and leaned in slightly.
If Jane’s death was linked to a larger conspiracy that Castle Hill and the queen knew about, then Emrys might know about the Blood Mirrors. And if he did, it would speed up the investigation.
“Would this national conspiracy have something to do with the Blood Mirror?” Quinn asked, curling her fingers around the door.
His reaction was physical. Every muscle in his body tensed, and his face slightly paled. “I can neither confirm nor deny—”
“Of course, you can’t.” She scoffed, but then she narrowed her eyes because that was a physical reaction, not just a verbal one.
“But let’s speak hypothetically for a moment. If there were Bloo—” His words broke off as the vein in his neck budged. Quinn cocked her head, watching him. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Something, probably magic—there wasn’t much else that would do it—was keeping him from being truthful. So, how could Quinn get around it? Have him tell her without him saying it.
“So you can’t tell me anything.” Quinn sighed. “That’s going to make solving a murder difficult. It’s like asking me to fight a duel with my hands tied behind my back.”
“I know.” He visibly swallowed.
“I presume you can’t tell me why you can’t tell me as well?
He nodded. “If there was something, let’s say, that I couldn’t speak about, perhaps you might be able to find the answers without me telling you.”
“And how would you suggest I do that?”
“Either the Grand Library or a mirror.”
“You want to take a girl who cannot even read to a library?”
Emrys shrugged. “Eh, so you can’t read. Big deal. I can’t sing, and I am still considered a gentleman . . . mostly.” His lips rose in a silky smirk. “Reading might be hard, but I know you can do it. You are quite brilliant.”
A library. He must really hate her.
She glowered; her arms crossed protectively in front of her chest. Eventually, she rolled her shoulders back and decided to humor his metaphor. “If you were Knight in this scenario, would that mean you would wear the stupid hat?”
Emrys moved closer to her. She stepped back in rhythm with him, but her back hit the doorframe. He was so close that the warmth of his breath caressed her neck.
“Would you enjoy that? Maybe I can wear only the hat . . . and nothing else.” He winked. “I do believe you still need lessons in passion.”
Butterfly wings tickled her stomach, and her foolish heart sped. She had forbidden the lessons in passion to continue, but a horrible piece of her wanted his hands all over her again—wanted him to teach her everything. She swallowed. No. Strength, Quinn. Finding Jane’s murder was all that mattered. No foolish, indecently handsome, and charming princes.
Quinn measured her voice and made it sound clinical and uninterested so that her lust wouldn’t show. “You did not need to say, ‘and nothing else.' The‘only’implied that you planned to be naked.”
He chuckled.
“Besides, I already told you there would be no lessons in passion anymore.” Her eyes tracked for a mortifying moment down to his cock and then back up to his chestnut eyes.
His chuckle deepened. “It’s interesting your mouth is forming words, but your eyes are not agreeing with them. If you truly don’t want to use me for passion, then try telling your eyes to stop caressing me.” He stepped closer, his proximity indecent. “Your eyes feel a little bit like this.” He trailed his thumb down the column of her neck. His jaw was set tight as if the act pained him.
Shivers radiated through her entire body, and she inhaled sharply, wishing he would do it again . . . that and so, so much more. But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped back, freeing her. And it was the one instance where she longed to be confined again.
“But you forbid me from teaching you passion,” he said, “for no discernable reason.”
Quinn gritted her teeth from frustration and anger. The anger that emerged every time she remembered why Jane was dead. “Perhaps you should deploy your charms on someone who might want to spend time with you.” Quinn dug a verbal knife into his arrogance.
It caused the opposite reaction than she intended. Emrys's arrogance grew.
