Hero, Come Back (Cynster 9.50)
The force behind the words made her start; she stared, utterly astounded, at Reggie. He’d spoken in his usual even tone, yet the authority beneath it—even more the fury in his eyes—shocked her into silence.
He noted it; apparen
tly satisfied, he looked at Thomas.
“Have you spoken to Hugh recently?”
“Hugh?” Increasingly confused, Thomas shook his head. “He called last afternoon but missed me. He left a message but I haven’t found the time—”
“Find the time,” Reggie said. “There’s something you need to know, and you’d best hear it from him.”
Thomas frowned. “Imogen’s here—”
“No. Imogen may not be in Hugh’s confidence—not in this.” Reggie pulled out his watch, glanced at it. “Daresay Hugh’ll be at White’s by now.” He looked at Thomas. “Don’t you think?”
Thomas nodded. “Most likely.”
“Well, then.” Tucking his watch back in his pocket, Reggie stepped away from the door, opening and holding it wide.
Thomas considered him. “You won’t tell me?”
Reggie met his gaze, shook his head. “Family matter. Less said about it by anyone else, the better.”
Thomas studied his eyes, then raised his brows. “Very well.” He stepped toward the door. “I’ll hie myself to White’s, then.” Swinging around, he swept Anne a bow. “Good evening, Miss Ashford.” He straightened; his gaze lingered— unholy appreciation lit his eyes. “Until next time, sweet Anne.”
With a devilish smile, he nodded to Reggie and walked from the room.
Reggie very carefully shut the door, grasping the moment to strengthen his hold on his temper. He hadn’t even known he possessed one—not of this type, not of this magnitude; subduing it, wrestling it back under control, wasn’t a simple matter.
Turning from the door, he looked at Anne, standing, hands still clapsed before her, staring at him. He couldn’t truly see anything else in the room. He started toward her. “I believe I told you not to attempt to explain this matter to Thomas?”
He kept his voice level, even, soft; it still brought her chin up.
“It was necessary—”
“No. It wasn’t.” He was hanging on to his temper by a thread—an increasingly frayed one. “As you just learned, Hugh has been trying to contact Thomas—it’s unlikely to be about any other subject. Neither Thomas nor Hugh will think there’s any urgency about this matter—Benjamin is presently quite safe.”
He stepped nearer; his temper infused his last word with enough emphasis to make it quiver.
Her eyes flew wide; she took a step back—as if finally understanding that she wasn’t as lucky as Benjamin. “I…” Her eyes searched his, then she blinked, drew herself up—and met his gaze defiantly. “I have absolutely no idea why you consider yourself my keeper in this—”
“Just be thankful I do.” He stepped forward on the word, and she backed again.
Into a sidetable; without looking, Anne stepped around it. “That’s ridiculous. No one would hold you responsible—”
“I would. I do!”
He stepped forward again; an air of aggression—not the typical male sort she’d been accustomed to seeing from her earliest years in her brothers, but something finer, more honed— infinitely more dangerous—seemed to shimmer about him. She couldn’t stop herself taking another step back.
“But nothing happened! Everything’s perfectly all right—”
“No. It isn’t.”
Stepping back again, she locked her eyes on his. “Thomas now knows—and Hugh hasn’t forgotten, so—”
“All is well on the Benjy front. Quite.”
On the last, ferociously clipped word, Reggie stepped forward again—and her back hit the wall. She didn’t dare blink. He had to be able to see her reaction, yet he took still another step. Deliberately crowding her, leaving her not an inch to breathe.