Never had he seen anyone—man or woman—handle a weapon with such easy assurance and authority. The woman was…a lunatic. A beautiful, captivating lunatic. And the fact that he was going to ask her to stay said a lot about his own sanity.
Daphney leveled the gun at him again. “Why did you propose to me and bring me along if you knew I wasn’t telling the truth?” She was only a slip of a woman, but goodness did she have a commanding presence, especially now that she was being completely herself. She was unbridled but in complete control. He liked
her that way.
Carver smirked, feeling oddly playful for a man staring down the barrel of a gun. “Amusement?”
“I’ve been lying professionally for most of my life, Carver. Which means I have also become quite proficient in recognizing them.” She shot him a pointed look.
“Have you been—” he waved in the air gesturing toward her gun, “doing whatever this is most of your life?”
“A wonderful deflection, but not good enough. Why did you bring me here? Was this a trap and you mean to turn me over to the magistrate?”
He laughed, hoping it would set her at ease and also get him out of having to tell her the whole truth. And also maybe get her to lower that weapon. “No—on both accounts. I never had any intentions of trapping you or turning you over to the magistrate. If you will remember, you are the one holding the gun, not me. And by the way, have you made up your mind on shooting me yet? If not, would you mind terribly to put it away?”
She smirked and cocked her head. “Do I make you uncomfortable? Afraid that a woman doesn’t know how to handle a pistol?”
“I’m terribly uncomfortable, in fact. But only because I’m a little too certain that you do know how to handle it and I’d rather not have a hole blown through my favorite jacket if it can be avoided.”
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t give in to the temptation to fully smile. It was going to take work, but he was feeling a new determination to make that woman fully smile.
She held up a finger and moved it in a circle telling him to turn around.
He quirked a brow. “You mean to have me turn my back on a woman with a pistol in her hand? No, I thank you.”
“Well then, we are at a dagger draw, my lord. I’m certainly not going to put the thing away with your top lights gawking at me.” She sighed deeply and rolled her eyes when he simply blinked at her. “I can see that you have not put two and two together yet. The holster is on my leg. Now either respectfully turn around so I may replace it or say goodbye to your fetching jacket.”
He smiled. “Fetching?”
“Oh, turn around!”
Carver obeyed with a smile and turned around so she could do whatever it was she needed to do to replace the gun. The fact that the pistol lived under her skirts made the speed at which she was able to retrieve it, all the more impressive. Did she find herself in those types of situations often? Had she shot anyone before? He had an endless supply of questions for the rogue.
“Alright, you may turn around.” And he did, only to find her slowly backing toward the door. “I’ll offer a quick thanks for not turning me in and be on my way.”
She was leaving? Not only was it extremely cold outside, but it was completely dark. It wasn’t safe for her to travel through the night.
She picked up her valise and turned around to leave. She really was going to leave. He could have sworn she had been feeling the same attractions that he had been experiencing. Apparently, it was only a part of her act. An unfortunate blow to his pride.
Watching her walk away made his insides churn painfully. Not only did he need for her to stay so that he could fulfill his promise to Robert, but…no. He didn’t let himself explore that thought any further. He needed her to stay to fulfill his promise. That was it.
As she reached for the door, Carver frantically searched his mind for anything he could say to get her to stop. “You were going to leave without saying goodbye first?” Great. Now he was going to play the part of a love-sick fool too.
She froze. She didn’t look back but turned her head a little to the side so that the moonlight fell over her right cheekbone. “I never say goodbye to my targets.”
Targets. How flattering.
“What about friends?” he asked.
There was a long pause. He felt as if there was a tether pulling him toward her. How could he cut it?
He had no reason to care for her, every reason to hate her and mistrust her, but unfortunately, all he felt was lighter when she was near. It was difficult to put into words. There was just simply a connection. A draw. A strong force that grabbed him anytime she looked at him. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He already had too many feelings to balance.
Chapter 13
“I don’t have friends.” Her voice sounded softer than it had before as it carried through the stables and settled heavily on Carver.
He resisted a groan. Why did he want to make her feel better?