Page 57 of Wicked Intentions (Wicked Games 3)
“Thank you for the advice. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a plane to Washington, DC, to catch and the world’s largest blue diamond to steal, or the bear is really going to have something to be angry about.”
I turn and continue down the aisle. Again, Reynard follows so closely behind, I’m surprised he doesn’t trip me.
“We need to talk about your American.”
“He isn’t my American.”
“Oh-ho! Really? Perhaps someone should inform him of that fact. The man is completely infatuated with you!”
“He’s probably taken a lot of hard hits to the head. He’s a soldier.”
“Good God!” he scoffs. “If what you know about men was made into a book, it would be filled with blank pages! He was a soldier. Now he’s a hired gun with a hard-on for a woman whose life is beholden to one of the most dangerous criminals who’s ever lived. It’s a Shakespearean tragedy in the making!”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re completely failing.”
“I’m trying to make you have a conversation. Mariana, stop.”
Reynard clasps my shoulder, pulls me up short, and turns me to face him. “Do you know what a hero needs more than anything else?”
“Great hair? A compelling backstory? A cool name and a cape?”
“A villain. And do you know what happens when a hero finds his villain?”
“They live happily ever after in the pages of a comic book?”
Radiating ann
oyance, Reynard purses his lips and exhales.
I ditch the jokes and answer seriously. “War.”
“Exactly,” he replies softly, nodding. “And if you don’t shake your American, he’s going to start a war with the Devil and drag us all into hell.”
“You’re forgetting that I already shook him.”
“Did you? Because I get the feeling the man is a little more resourceful than you’re giving him credit for.”
Aggravated—because he’s right—I pull Oliver Twist from the bookshelf. It yawns open, revealing the dank tunnel beyond.
Reynard sighs, realizing I’m not going to respond. When he speaks again, he sounds resigned. “He’ll be watching the shop. We have to assume he’ll have video surveillance on us within hours, if he doesn’t already.”
“I know.”
“Which means you can’t come back—”
“I know!”
At my sharp tone, he stiffens. I blow out a hard breath and scrub my hands over my face.
“I’m sorry. I know this is my fault. I know I messed up. He’s just so…he’s so…” I search for the right word, but can only come up with one. “Beautiful. In every way. I’ve never met anyone like him. He makes me feel like I’m worth something.” My voice breaks. “He makes me feel like I could be someone better than I am.”
With infinite gentleness, Reynard strokes a hand over my hair. “We’re creatures of the underworld, my darling. We have no business in the dealings of heroes.”
My throat constricts. “Just once,” I whisper. “I’d like to be a hero, too.”
Reynard watches in astonishment as a tear crests my lower lid and slides down my cheek. Then he surprises me by engulfing me in a hard, heartfelt hug.
“It will all be over soon,” he whispers, an odd vibration in his voice. “You’ll honor the oath and then you’ll be free. Then you can live whatever kind of life you like, anywhere in the world.”
