it would certainly make things a bit more difficult for the dealers to dispatch their Evil. Cutting resources was like burning the legendary Hydra head: it didn’t kill the monster but it prevented the severed head from growing twice as powerful. He extended his hand.
“What are you doing?”
The ruffled tone stopped him midway to the mouse. Arthur backed up in her chair slowly, while his mind was working in overdrive to find a suitable explanation. She would not believe him. She didn’t trust him, yet she trusted everybody else…She was too trusting for her own good, far too innocent. If she was innocent…
“I was bored.”
The half-lie, voiced with one touch of contempt, instantly appalled her. Temper flared in her pale green eyes.
“Well, surely you can find…amusement elsewhere.”
God, she was beguiling when she was mad. Standing, Arthur smirked.
“You’re selling yourself short, sweetheart. I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow, two PM sharp. Don’t forget your toothbrush.”
He crushed her into him, utterly (dis)satisfied when she turned her head so his mouth found only her jaw, because he had expected her to react exactly like that. As long as he could predict her reactions, and he kept his under control, he would be safe.
***
Maya checked her bag for the thirtieth time. Her outfit for the Ball and a change of clothes were carefully stored in a small suitcase, as well as her toothbrush and toiletries. She had changed her choice of nightgown three times already. Each one was perfectly decent; plain.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Maya, this is not a romantic getaway, it’s business.”
Even speaking the reality out loud didn’t help. She threw the garment she was holding into the bag and zipped it up before she changed her mind again. The nightdress was green. Arthur had said green suited her. She couldn’t take the green one!
Maya was about to reopen her luggage when the door buzzed. It was too late to change her mind now. She took a deep breath, checked her reflection in the mirror, mentally kicking herself for it, and opened the front door.
He was wearing jeans. It was the first time she had seen him without a tailored suit since they had started their charade. He looked good in jeans. The navy color of his pullover matched his eyes. He had not tied his scarf and the skin of his neck was pink with cold.
“Hi.”
The syllable choked and Maya felt like an idiot.
“Let me take that.”
Without hesitation, Arthur grabbed her bag and walked back to the car. It was definitely too late to change her mind now. She should have taken the purple shift.
Chapter 17
The house was a spectacular mansion which had been part of Abigail’s dowry. Each year, on the December solstice, the ancestral house reopened its doors to host the Yule Ball. The tradition had begun to celebrate Arthur’s first birthday, for Abigail had always wanted children and had suffered several miscarriages before giving birth to her son. Even after her death, Robert had insisted on carrying on with the Ball, which by then had become one of the most praised events of the Season, especially if the invitation came with an offer to spend the night at the mansion.
Maya took in the impressive sight the house made under the darkening sky. The multiple windows were framed by exterior illuminations that reflected on the white walls making them glow. The courtyard was lit by torches and more garlands, the latter installed in the orange trees that had been taken out for the occasion. She couldn’t make out the barns and the stables in the backyard but she knew they were somewhere behind the master building; the property was enormous.
Arthur slowed down while driving up the gravelly driveway and stopped at the big front doors. Maya hadn’t come to the domain in several years, escaping invitations to the Ball even before her falling out with the Pendletons, and she couldn’t help but feel like Cinderella stepping out of her
“What are you doing?”
The ruffled tone stopped him midway to the mouse. Arthur backed up in her chair slowly, while his mind was working in overdrive to find a suitable explanation. She would not believe him. She didn’t trust him, yet she trusted everybody else…She was too trusting for her own good, far too innocent. If she was innocent…
“I was bored.”
The half-lie, voiced with one touch of contempt, instantly appalled her. Temper flared in her pale green eyes.
“Well, surely you can find…amusement elsewhere.”
God, she was beguiling when she was mad. Standing, Arthur smirked.
“You’re selling yourself short, sweetheart. I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow, two PM sharp. Don’t forget your toothbrush.”
He crushed her into him, utterly (dis)satisfied when she turned her head so his mouth found only her jaw, because he had expected her to react exactly like that. As long as he could predict her reactions, and he kept his under control, he would be safe.
***
Maya checked her bag for the thirtieth time. Her outfit for the Ball and a change of clothes were carefully stored in a small suitcase, as well as her toothbrush and toiletries. She had changed her choice of nightgown three times already. Each one was perfectly decent; plain.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Maya, this is not a romantic getaway, it’s business.”
Even speaking the reality out loud didn’t help. She threw the garment she was holding into the bag and zipped it up before she changed her mind again. The nightdress was green. Arthur had said green suited her. She couldn’t take the green one!
Maya was about to reopen her luggage when the door buzzed. It was too late to change her mind now. She took a deep breath, checked her reflection in the mirror, mentally kicking herself for it, and opened the front door.
He was wearing jeans. It was the first time she had seen him without a tailored suit since they had started their charade. He looked good in jeans. The navy color of his pullover matched his eyes. He had not tied his scarf and the skin of his neck was pink with cold.
“Hi.”
The syllable choked and Maya felt like an idiot.
“Let me take that.”
Without hesitation, Arthur grabbed her bag and walked back to the car. It was definitely too late to change her mind now. She should have taken the purple shift.
Chapter 17
The house was a spectacular mansion which had been part of Abigail’s dowry. Each year, on the December solstice, the ancestral house reopened its doors to host the Yule Ball. The tradition had begun to celebrate Arthur’s first birthday, for Abigail had always wanted children and had suffered several miscarriages before giving birth to her son. Even after her death, Robert had insisted on carrying on with the Ball, which by then had become one of the most praised events of the Season, especially if the invitation came with an offer to spend the night at the mansion.
Maya took in the impressive sight the house made under the darkening sky. The multiple windows were framed by exterior illuminations that reflected on the white walls making them glow. The courtyard was lit by torches and more garlands, the latter installed in the orange trees that had been taken out for the occasion. She couldn’t make out the barns and the stables in the backyard but she knew they were somewhere behind the master building; the property was enormous.
Arthur slowed down while driving up the gravelly driveway and stopped at the big front doors. Maya hadn’t come to the domain in several years, escaping invitations to the Ball even before her falling out with the Pendletons, and she couldn’t help but feel like Cinderella stepping out of her
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