The Marquis and the Magician's Assistant (The Rebel Royals 4)

"Ms. Lark, there's a gentleman for you at the door."

Lark frowned. She hadn't met any gentlemen in Córdoba other than Omar. And he'd been welcome in Mondego House since before they'd met. Omar would’ve simply shown himself in and found her if he needed her for anything. Since the busy marquis didn't need her for anything, it couldn't be him.

Lark moved toward the entryway. Her feet stopped as she saw who the gentleman caller was. The man was no gentleman.

"There you are." Piers Northwood, The Great Nitwitini. His voice was whiny and nasally. "You disappeared on me."

"That was in my job description." Lark eyed the thick drapes on the windows of the entryway. They would make the perfect prop for a disappearing act. "What do you want, Piers?"

"Why, I want you, of course."

He came to her, reaching for her hands. Much in the same way that Zhi had reached for Spin's. Lark put her hands behind her back. Piers was such a mediocre magician that he might actually believe she'd made her hands disappear. But no such luck. He rested his hands on her shoulders.

"I want you back," he said. "In my show, in my life. We were so good together."

They had never been together. Not like that. Not for his lack of trying. But Lark was not one to lay on her back to get to the top.

"I think what you mean is she's good for you and your act."

Lark grinned at the heroine coming to her rescue. Spin came up behind Lark and plucked Piers' hands from her shoulders. Then she draped her arm across Lark's shoulder in a clear sign of possession.

"Which really was Lark's act because she was the one who did all the magic," Spin continued.

Lark had no problem letting her friend fight this battle for her. Sure, she could've told Piers off. She had no problem standing up for herself. It was why she was perpetually unemployed.

"I think he probably heard you got a new gig," Spin stage whispered loudly and conspiratorially to Lark. "I'll bet he wants in."

Piers ignored Spin and focused on Lark. “You’re a magician’s assistant, not a magician. And you’re a woman. There aren’t many female magicians for a reason. I just want you to succeed.”

“Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you.” Lark left the protection of her best friend’s arms and stepped to her former boss. “Stepping in to rescue my show because you don’t believe in me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I really don’t care what you have to say. It would never work," said Lark, her voice thick with mock sadness. "Because in my show I'm in charge, and you clearly don’t know what women want.”

Piers’s features changed in an instant. “But you clearly know what men want. How else did you get Omar al Sharif to give you a show? You’re obviously—”

Piers didn’t get to finish that sentence. Just as Lark had learned a few magic tricks, she also knew a few defensive maneuvers to put a man in his place. She weaved her hands under Piers’s arm and ended with it twisted behind his back. He whimpered in pain like a little boy.

“Um, is there a problem here, my darling?”

Neither Spin nor Lark turned to address Zhi who stood at the far end of the hall.

“Nope,” called Spin as she opened the front door. “We’ve got this, babe.”

“All right then. Carry on.”

And the two women did just that. They crab-marched the sad excuse for a magician out of the house and slammed the door behind him.

“Men,” Lark grumbled as she slumped against the door.

“Most of them,” said Spin, looking down the hall. “Not all of them.”

Lark had to agree. Most men still only thought of women as objects of pleasure for their needs. Few saw their true worth. The verdict was still out on which camp Omar al Shariff fell into.

Chapter Five

“Nice shirt. What's it made of? Boyfriend material?"