Page 38 of Esperance

“Do youreallywant me to hit you again today?” Carver asked, his voice dripping with threat.

Rivard’s hands curled at his sides. “Keep your wife in line, and we won’t have a problem.”

“Never speak to her again, and maybe we can avoid problems.” Carver’s words were low and deep, and the anger pouring off him tightened Amryn’s skin like the searing heat of a fire.

Rivard gave them both a silent glare, then spun and stalked down the hall.

Amryn’s heart continued to stutter in her chest, and Carver didn’t look away from Rivard’s retreat until he’d disappeared around a corner. Then Carver’s full focus shifted to her, and their gazes locked.

His blue eyes burned. “Did he harm you in any way?”

“No,” she said, feeling a little breathless under that direct stare.

“What did he say to you?”

“Nothing. Truly. I think he was just drunk and upset from losing at cards.” And having his nose broken, though she didn’t say that.

Carver’s hard expression didn’t alter. “For my sanity, I’m going to ask you to stay away from him.”

“I didn’t seek him out.”

“Good. Don’t. And if he ever threatens you again, taunt him all you want—after you’ve informed me, so I can break his jaw.”

A low chuckle broke free.

He frowned. “What?”

“Just something Argent said.”

“What did he say?”

“That you’re not prone to violence. I don’t really believe it.”

He stared at her a moment, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I still haven’t managed to make a good impression, have I?”

“No. You’re either stabbing people over dinner, breaking noses while I’m at tea, or threatening to break jaws. What am I to expect next?”

He cocked his head, studying her face. “I’m wondering the same thing.”

The flush she felt had nothing to do with the lingering effects of Rivard’s intoxication, and everything to do with how closely Carver was standing.

She cleared her throat. “You quit the game?”

“You left,” he said. “I wanted to escort you back to the room.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks remained too warm under his gaze. Saints, maybeshe’dsipped too much brandy tonight, because she found herself saying, “You didn’t care about escorting me to dinner.”

Carver’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I truly lost track of time. I won’t let it happen again.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Slowly, she curled a hand around his bent elbow. The instant she touched him, she felt Carver’s throb of attraction.

It only amplified her own, and that was completely disconcerting.

He walked her to the suite in silence, and when they entered their apartment, Amryn instantly pulled away from him. Her heart pounded, and she balled her tingling fingers into a fist. “Goodnight,” she said, purposefully not looking at him as she stepped toward the hall that led to the bedroom.

“Amryn, wait.” His voice was pitched low; deep and slightly rough.

She turned to face him, and in the dim glow of the lanterns the servants had lit, her breath caught at the sight of him. At the way he looked at her.

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