Page 24 of His Ruthless Match

“Do your assassinations usually end in women’s bathrooms?” The loofah connected with his shoulder, and he staggered backward, slipping on the wet tile.

“I’m working!” he shouted, flailing to regain balance. But the slick floor betrayed him, and with a spectacular crash, he went down, landing hard at my feet. His head smacked against the wall.

My hands flew to cover myself, mortified, but not before I realized his head was now level with my— “Oh my god!” I shrieked, grabbing at the towel hanging nearby.

Jareth groaned, dazed, and his gaze—oh, God, his gaze—landed where it absolutely should not. His eyes widened. “Stop screaming,” he managed, scrambling to shield his face as I stepped over him in a panic.

In my rush, my foot connected with his groin. He gasped, curling into himself like a wounded animal. “Bloody hell! Are youtryingto kill me?”

“Maybe!” I shot back, wrapping the towel around myself with trembling hands. “Serves you right for—” I gestured wildly around me. “What is wrong with you?”

Jareth tried to push himself up, but he slipped in the water pooling around him. “This—this wasn’t my fault,” he wheezed, clutching his stomach. “The bracelet activated. I thought you were in danger!”

“Does it look like I’m in danger?” I shouted, gesturing at my very naked, very furious self.

“Well, nowIam!” he snapped, glaring up at me from the floor. His hair was plastered to his face, and blood smeared thetile. “Vivian is going to hear about this. These bracelets are a bloody disaster. Maybe if you could get your heart rate under control…”

“You think this ismyfault?” I threw my hands up, the towel nearly slipping. “I’m not the one barging into people’s showers with a knife and getting blood everywhere!”

“I was mid-assassination!” he growled again, finally managing to stand. His shirt clung to him, soaked through, and he looked utterly ridiculous—half drowned rat, half serial killer.

“Whatever you were doing,” I said, stabbing a finger into his chest, “you can finish itsomewhere else.”

Jareth wiped water from his face. “Gladly. But I’m coming to your office later today to set up the wards.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Just get out.Now.”

He stepped out of the shower, dripping water and blood all over the floor. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he muttered as he grabbed a towel from the rack.

I scoffed. “For what?”

“For making sure you weren’t being murdered.” He smirked as he headed for the door. “Though honestly, you’re scarier than any would-be assassin I could face.”

With that, he was gone, leaving me standing there, wet and furious, the bathroom a complete disaster.

I downed my second—no,third—cup of coffee and glanced at the time. I was late. I wasneverlate. My phone buzzed on the counter. Theo. He’d already sent me three texts.

Theo:Are you alive?

Theo:Also, I need to show you something. ASAP.

Theo:Don’t make me break into your apartment.

I sighed, grabbed my bag, and left for the office. The memory of this morning’s fiasco was still too fresh. Jareth. In myshower. I shuddered, willing the image out of my head. Stupid bracelet. Stupid overgrown cat.

The office buzzed with its usual rhythm, phones ringing and keyboards clattering in sync with the hum of conversation. I stepped through the glass doors, a coffee in hand that was mostly an accessory at this point, given how jittery I already felt. Theo had been blowing up my phone all morning, and based on his messages, he was either about to break into a song-and-dance routine or deliver news of the apocalypse. Either way, I wasn’t looking forward to whatever chaos awaited me.

Theo practically ambushed me the moment I stepped inside. “Finally! I’ve been waiting forever.”

I raised an eyebrow and brushed past him toward my office. “You texted me thirty minutes ago. Dramatic much?”

He followed close behind, his usual enthusiasm replaced with a nervous edge. “This is serious, Eva. You need to see.”

I didn’t pause until I reached my desk, setting my bag down with a deliberate thud. “See what?”

Theo glanced at the door, then back at me. He shut it, which he never did, and it instantly set me on edge.

“Check your inbox,” he whispered.