“I don’t have the evidence to prove it,” he said. “But I know what happened. What’s more, I’ve been watching Everley for years. I’ve seen the trail of victims he’s left in his wake to make him the wealthy, powerful gentleman he is today.”
She blinked up at him, her gaze trying to search his in this dark, shadowy room. “If that is true, then why have you done nothing.”
“I have never been able to prove my suspicions—”
“So why now?” Her voice was rising, imperious even when upset. His gaze shot to the door. If she kept talking loudly, someone could hear. Aside from that, he knew for a fact that Everley often conducted business in his office during his parties. He was known for using his social gatherings to do his dirty work—extortion, blackmail, and yes—murder.
“Why are you here now?” she continued. “At my engagement party, no less.”
“Keep your voice down,” he murmured. “Unless you wish us to be caught and your reputation to be ruined.”
She narrowed her eyes and made a noise he’d call a growl if it had come from a man. As it was it was a little more high-pitched, and entirely too enticing. “Don’t you threaten me at my own party, and in my own home.” She blinked rapidly and gave her head a little shake. “It will be my home,” she continued, but now he wasn’t entirely certain if she were reminding him or herself.
“I didn’t come here to scare you,” he said. “I came here to save you.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her lips parting with surprise.
His gaze dropped to those lips.
He wanted to kiss her.
The realization struck him upside the head and left him reeling. He was a professional. He never got distracted whilst on a mission, and most certainly not while in the midst of rifling through the office of his arch nemesis. And yet, here he was. Staring at those lush lips and imagining what it might be like to press his lips to hers. What sort of sound she would make, how heatedly she would respond…
“You…are here to save me.” Her voice hitched in the middle and he couldn’t tell if she were fighting a sob or a laugh.
“You…you…” She let out a choked laugh. “You are here to save me.” She gave her head a little shake and seemed to remember herself, pushing against his chest hard to take a step away. Her shoulders pushed back and her head went high. “I have no need of saving, Mister…” She arched a brow.
“Calloway,” he finished. A twinge of guilt flickered in his gut, but he pushed it aside. He owed this girl nothing, certainly not the whole unvarnished truth. And besides, it wasn’t a lie. Mr. Rupert Calloway was the name he’d been using for years now, having eschewed the honorary title that was his right. Titles were all well and good, and having one certainly served its purpose from time to time, but in his line of work, being a Mr. Nobody-in-Particular seemed best.
Her lips curved into a sneer. “Mr. Calloway,” she repeated, as though engraving it to her memory. “You seem to forget that I am the one that belongs here. And if my future husband is as ruthless as you claim, surely it is you who needs saving.” She took her time before adding, “By me.”
He nearly laughed at her arrogant confidence. He might have if he wasn’t so worried for her safety. He’d been concerned for her when she was just a name, an acquaintance of an old friend. But now he feared for her. Because she was…
Well, because she was her.
A weak woman might be able to exist at Everley’s side. A woman less stubborn, less determined, less strong-willed, less…
Perfect.
No, not perfect. A woman less infuriating. That was the word he’d been looking for. A woman less infuriating might be able to turn a blind eye to her husband’s wicked ways, and perhaps survive being wedded to Everley in some sort of ignorant bliss.
But someone like Delilah… She was not simple, she was not easy, and she would definitely be a thorn in Everley’s side.
And Everley would have no problem getting rid of her if she were problematic. That thought left Rupert shaking with rage. “Listen to me, Delilah—” His use of her given name had her eyes widening in surprise but he ignored it. “You need to take this seriously.”
“Oh, I do,” she cut in.
He could practically see the walls she was constructing around her, protecting herself, withdrawing into the picture of feminine grace and charm.
Shutting him out, in the process.
“I think I understand quite well,” she said. “You wish to destroy my husband.”
He flinched at her use of that word. He would kill Everley first before he ever let him get his hands on this woman.
For a man who prided himself on his even-keeled nature, he barely recognized what was happening to him. This was an investigation. One that had personal ties to him, yes, but it was still his work. His mission.
He couldn’t let his emotions get involved.
Not again.
That was how Everley had bested him the last time. And he’d sworn he wouldn’t let that happen again.
“You didn’t deny it,” she said.
He hadn’t. How could he? He wished for nothing less than the complete ruin of Lord Everley.
“Which means,” she said slowly. “You wish to destroy me, as well.”
His brows drew down as he took a step toward her. If she’d retreated, he might have stopped. But she didn’t. This foolish girl was too stubborn for her own good. So invested in her bravado that she’d leap headlong into this match out of sheer spite, he had no doubt. “Now look
