Page 30 of Greed: The Savage (Seven Deadly Sins #7)

T hornwick’s adversary had become his obsession.

Marriage made sense, for the both of them . He and Addien got along. They understood one another, when not a single person understood Thornwick. They sparred with wits and words and, hell, he’d even secret parts about himself he’d never shared with anybody.

Yes, Addien Killoran, spitfire and hellion, brave and bold, was unmatched in strength and will. The man who claimed her could not afford a single misstep—she would not allow it.

Unfortunately for Thornwick, he’d erred this morn.

Addien put her tensed fingers on his chest and gave a light shove. “Get off me, Thornwick.”

Thornwick.

Oh, yes, he’d displeased her mightily.

As much as his cock ached to bring Addien pleasure and then take his own, he eased his fingers out of her wet, tight channel.

Addien sat up quickly and edged away from him until her back collided with the makeshift headboard made by the wall.

Given how tautly wound she was, Thornwick was slower to follow suit.

“Here I thought you’d approve of such ruthlessness,” he murmured.

No warning chimes required; Great Tom couldn’t have peeled any louder.

Not when Addien looked at Thornwick like he’d crawled from a London sewer and into her bed.

“You think I want to be some pawn in a nobleman’s game,” she spat with a vitriol that made a memory of all the honeyed warmth with which she’d spoken to him last night.

Thornwick had worked a lifetime in roles in which a single slip in judgment could cost a life. Whether at the Home Office or now at the Devil’s Den, the rule was the same—mistakes weren’t an option.

No. Correction. He didn’t allow himself to make mistakes. When another’s safety rested in one’s hands, every detail mattered. Faulty judgment, rash thinking, or careless words could be fatal.

It was the first lesson driven into him from his earliest days at the Home Office. He’d lived, slept, breathed, eaten, and existed on that truth alone.

Funny, against his most formidable, compelling adversary to date, he’d forgotten that vital lesson, blundered it beyond repair.

“I’d never trifle with you, Addien.” Thornwick turned his palms up, surrendering the battlefield to his Enyo. “I asked to wed you in deadly seriousness.”

Addien peered closely at his face.

No doubt she sought the lies, but she’d find none.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to respond, he said, “Given everything I shared with you yesterday…” Had it truly been but a day ago? Less than even. “You understand why.”

“That’s why you were with the baroness.” Her eyes were peculiarly blank. “You weren’t necessarily going to fuck her.” Her lips formed a cynical smile that hit him like a gut-punch. “That would have been a mere added bonus. You were there to court her.”

Shame, guilt, and a swirl of other emotions too complex to put name to rioted in his chest.

That same shame brought his shoulders back. “You are right to your resentment. I neglected my responsibility to see you safe and you suffered.” And he would never, ever forgive himself for that grievous offense.

“I’m not your responsibility , Malric.” Addien’s gaze radiated hurt. “I’m no man’s responsibility.” Her voice was small as he’d ever heard. He loathed it with all he was.

“Yes, but you could be, Addien.” Did that imploring voice belong to him? “Not a responsibility. I do not see you as an assignment.”

Her lips curved into a sad smile. “How do you see me, Malric?”

A region very near his heart spasmed. Thornwick knew what he said next, and how he said it, mattered very much.

“Look at me, Addien,” he said quietly.

Once she did, he continued.

“You were made for me, Addien. Just as I was made for you. You are a perfect mate for me. As I am for you. I want to marry you. And you’re going to, and do you know why that is?” He continued in a rhythmic murmur, managed to bring her under a spell the same way she’d dragged him under hers.

Addien gave something between a nod and a shake of her head, a wobbly motion displayed just how off-kilter she was.

Malric reached his hand up and curved his palm around her nape. Her neck was so small, he far more than spanned it with his hand. He cupped her lightly but firmly, with just the right amount of pressure he’d learned she loved. Sure enough, her eyelashes fluttered.

“Because you want me,” he whispered, firm in his conviction, so as to let it emerge as a command.

“Because you want me the same way I want you. We are the same. Both animals.” Not even bothering to conceal his desire for her in this moment, he lowered his mouth to claim hers in a hard kiss they both loved from one another…

Addien’s whispered question breathed against his lips. “Animals don’t become duchesses.”

He froze.

At last, the pieces fell into place!

“You’ll be perfect,” he murmured, the words low and certain.

Thornwick brushed his lips over her cheek, drawing closer to the delicate shell of her ear.

“You are bold. Courageous. Beautiful beyond compare.” He leaned in until his mouth hovered where he wanted it.

“You are a queen…” He set his lips to her ear. “Let me be your king.”

Her breath grew ragged.

Thornwick lightly nipped at the sensitive flesh.

A delicate shiver set her body trembling.

Sensing her weakening, he intensified his assault on her senses.

“You will have security. Safety,” he enticed.

With each vow, he plied her body with a sensual kiss.

“You will have power unlike you ever believed possible.” Overcome with lust for her, he curled his hand about her nape and made to devour her mouth.

Addien spoke, halting that hedonistic vision of their future together. “And what will you have?” Her words whispered against his mouth.

“What will I have?” he breathed, giving her neck another little bite, this time harder.

Addien whimpered. The nod she gave was uneven.

“I don’t need anything from you, Addien.”

With that promise, Thornwick took one of her swollen nipples into his mouth and sucked violently. When he failed to elicit the customary scream, he looked up at Addien.

Instead of bliss, her eyes reflected back horror and—

His eyes narrowed.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Bloody hell. He was getting soft.

When had his reflexes ever been this slow? What mystifying power did Addien hold over him?

Addien took her small fists and shoved hard, knocking him back onto his arse.

Delilah called through the panel. “Lord Dynevor’s looking for you. Your appointment for today’s been moved up.”

Of all the bloody times. With his and Addien’s business not even near conclusion.

Pale as parchment, Addien scrambled to dress. “Oh my God,” she mouthed.

Knock-knock-knock.

Quickly, he shed his trousers from yesterday in favor of the clean ones Deliah brought earlier.

“I-I’ll be but a moment,” Addien said. Her voice contained an edge of panic.

“Addien.” He kept his voice low. “You needn’t—”

The glare she put on him would’ve scorched the skin off another man. “Don’t you even say it.” Addien grabbed a cotton chemise and the first dress her fingers touched in her armoire.

Thornwick pulled his trousers into place. He resolved to adorn her in the finest lawn linen Belgium had to offer.

“Addien?” Delilah’s voice came muffled like she pressed her mouth against the oak.

Addien cursed. “I am nearly ready!” she said, her voice pitchy.

“The earl ain’t looking for you, Addien.”

The marked hesitation in Delilah’s reply stopped Addien.

Her gown donned, gaping as it had at their first assignment—was that truly just days ago?

While he strode to the front to open the door a crack to greet Delilah, he felt Addien’s stare following him.

“I’ll be down shortly,” he murmured. Pushing the door shut with a faint click, he faced Addien.

Bloody hell. First his blundered proposal. And now this.

By the horror on her face, this impending discussion was another one which required greater consideration.

She hadn’t said with words whether or not she accepted.

Knock, knock, knock.

When she turned back, he knew what he was going to see. Nothing, however, could have properly prepared him for the wariness in Addien’s eyes. “Why is Delilah asking for you?”

“Addien…”

“I asked you a question, Malric!”

It was better to have out with it. “You have the day off.”

It was best to begin with “you have a day off” and not “until further notice,” or as Thornwick ultimately intended—forever.

Addien cocked her head at a cute angle. “Why would I need a day —?”

Surely she wasn’t this obtuse!

“Dunworthy’s attack,” he snarled, the words edged in rage. His pulse thundered, each beat thick with lethal intent. How in God’s name could she stand there so calm when the thought of what had—and worse—what almost happened to her still tore him apart?

Addien’s voice gentled. “Malric, I am all right.”

Gentled—like he was some wounded boy to be soothed. His teeth ground together.

“This is no different than anything I’ve—”

He closed the distance in a heartbeat, hands gripping her upper arms, dragging her into the hard wall of his chest. “It is different,” he growled, breath sharp against her cheek. “Very different.”

The memory of her pinned, of how near she’d come to true harm, knotted every muscle in his body, the rage curling tight and hot beneath his skin.

Her gaze searched his. “On account of you want me to be your marchioness?”

At last—she understood. “Yes.” The word was a vow, a claim. No woman bound to him would ever walk unguarded. Ever.

But his promise only seemed to harden her. The warmth drained from her eyes, narrowing them to cold slits.

“I will never be your duchess,” she said, final as steel—and the words cut through him deeper than any blade.

He narrowed his eyes.

He’d made many missteps this day with Addien Killoran—the greatest being he’d let her rejection matter.

He’d granted her too much power over him. Now he claimed it back. “You are not accompanying me today, madam—”

Addien sputtered.

“Or ever on this manner of assignment.”

Stricken, her cheeks gone wan, Addien clutched a hand to her breast.

A raw, relentless ache gnawed at his chest.

“Dynevor?” she whispered. “O-Or you?”

Thornwick shut his eyes hard.

God help him, he was only just discovering how truly powerless he was where this woman was concerned.

Setting his jaw, he turned to the mirror and began folding his cravat. “The both of us were of like opinion.” Thornwick delivered that with the same precision and detachedness he did all his work.

Her slender eyebrows came together. “Fine then.” Addien folded her arms. “Which one of you first had the idea you both agreed upon?”

Finishing off his cravat, he fetched his jacket. “Very well, Addien.” He shrugged one arm in and then the other. “Given the perilous state you found yourself in—”

“Do you not mean, the perilous state you put me in when you went duchess-hunting ?”

Her barb hit its mark square in the center of his chest. “I deserved that,” he said roughly. And more besides.

Addien closed her eyes. “No, you didn’t.” She released a sigh. “That was petty of me.”

The last thing he’d do was allow her to feel guilty on his account.

“You weren’t being petty. You were being truthful.” Thornwick buttoned his deep-sapphire frock coat. “Just as I am being with you now. I made the decision that you should sit out until further notice.”

“I do not want to be your marchi—”

By God, he would not hear her say it again.

Enraged with himself for having let her get this close, he lunged towards her, gripped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close.

“You maddening minx,” he hissed. “You’ll have me say it.” Her eyes went wide. “I want to protect you.”

Every muscle stiffened, tight with dread. He’d never laid himself bare. What she did with it next had the potential to wreck him in ways he’d rather die than admit.

Addien took him in with a somber intensity. “Well, of course you do,” she said softly. “You must protect the pawn you’ve found for the duke.”

Stunned into releasing her, Thornwick reeled back. “A pawn implies you are not a willing partner,” he said tightly. “I have been forthright with you, Addien. I have given you choice and…power.” He gritted out that last word.

“I was a willing partner in your bed, Malric,” she said bluntly. “But that is all I’ll ever be.”

Was. As in past tense. A hollow pit formed in his stomach.

She confirmed it with her next words.

He stiffened. “So, that is it,” he said coolly. “You are rejecting me.” Thornwick couldn’t hide the shock and…other emotions from his voice.

Saying it aloud hit him harder.

“I ain’t looking to help you in some nobleman’s game you’ve got going on with your father.” Addien gave him a sad smile.

He despised that smile. He far preferred the humor-laced ones she’d bestowed these fleeting days.

Wait a minute. His eyebrows came together. “You are rejecting me,” he said, his voice dead to his own ears.

Addien took several slow, purposeful steps away from him, and with each step, she slipped further and further away…

Frustration, and something darker, burned in his chest. A feeling he couldn’t name because he’d never known it before. All he knew was he bloody hated it. Hated it because it felt too damned close to the word he’d let slip earlier: care . And it went deeper still.

His shoulders squared. He would not yield. To hell with his next assignment.

“I’ve been honest about why I’d marry you.

But hear me when I say—I respect you. I admire your strength, your courage, your unshakable convictions.

” His lashes lowered, voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl.

“I love having you in my bed. And I will keep you safe. I will keep you secure. And I will keep you so well sated you’ll forget what it is to want. ”

He stepped in, close enough that her breath caught. “Sit. Think on it.” His fingers grazed her jaw in a slow, claiming sweep before he let his arm fall. “When I return, I expect your answer.”

“Malric,” she said, her voice strained.

He would triumph. She wanted him with equal ferocity.

Having finally unmoored her, Thornwick hauled her against him and took her mouth in a hard, frenzied kiss, one she met without hesitation.

She pressed into him, her tongue tangling with his.

She bit at his lips, marking him as if to brand herself into his flesh.

And bloody hell, she was succeeding. Breath ragged, Thornwick wrenched himself away.

His chest heaved, the sound of it rough in the space between them. “This isn’t over,” he said, imbuing a double meaning to his vow.

Thornwick turned to go.

When he reached for the door handle, Addien called out.

“Malric?”

He cast a glance over his shoulder.

Addien nudged her head his way.

“Goodbye,” she said softly.

Thornwick flashed her a hunter’s smile. “For now, love.”

Only for now.

When he returned, he’d make such violent love to her, she’d surrender to Thornwick.

In every way.