Page 89 of Vengeance and Vipers

I blink at him.

Game face. Game face.

But it’s very hard to keep the mask of indifference on this time.

‘That’s for the best,’ I say. ‘Wouldn’t want me giving in to my baser,deceptiveinstincts.’ I lean closer. ‘And definitely wouldn’t want me influencing their human plaything,’ I whisper conspiratorially, and, I’ll admit, a little pettily.

‘Jane is theirmate,not an on-call girl,’ Maddox says, looking like I just insultedhismate.

The way he says her name is reverent.

Something in my chest clenches, and I let out a small cough to cover my involuntary gasp of pain. He wanted Jane to be theirs, I realize. But she chose the Iron I’s over him and his clan.

‘I stand corrected,’ I choke out, ignoring the pangs of jealousy that have no place in this conversation or, in fact, anywhere near Julian Maddox.

‘I’m glad we got that cleared up,’ I say, walking ahead of him towards the library. Luckily, it’s started to rain, so the stupid tears that leak from my eyes aren’t noticed when he catches up and walks beside me.

I don’t look at him, trying to think of things that don’t make me want to bawl my eyes out. I’m sure I didn’t used to cry all the time. These demons, the nice ones at least, have turned me soft.

Not conducive to survival, that little voice inside my head unhelpfully supplies. My internal voice of self-preservation has been so quiet lately I’d almost forgotten it was there.

The rain starts coming down in sheets, and I feel something get draped over my shoulders. Maddox has given me his jacket, and, for a split second, I could almost believe he gives two shits about me.

But that’s not true. What actually just happened is that Maddox has given the evil, deceptive human con artist his jacket because chivalry runs high in him, and I’m still a female in need. His hatred of me is immaterial and totally irrelevant.

His hand on the small of my back urges me into a run. He even helps me up the slippery stone steps to the French doors of the library. He flings them open, and we get inside. I stand in the middle of the room, shivering despite his coat because, as usual, I’m wearing a fucking evening gown.

I shrug off hisfake olive branchand hand it to him. His eyes are fixed on my sodden dress as he takes the jacket, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob.

I follow his gaze to my chest and see that the wet chiffon is practically see-through.

Great.

I cross my arms over my breasts, looking away from him uncomfortably.

Bet he wishes it was Jane’s honest boobs he could see right now, not my lying ones!

Stop it.

He clears his throat. ‘Here,’ he says, handing me a folder. ‘All the usual discrete and supe friendly suppliers, so there shouldn’t be any problems. You can use the landline in here to call them. They can invoice me directly.’

‘Thanks,’ I say, still not looking at him as I grab the folder with one hand and attempt to cover my chest with my other arm.

He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. When he does, I realize that he’s moved to his desk and sat down behind it. He’s lord of the manor now. He’s taken away our equal footing. Somehow, that makes me feel even more embarrassed to be standing here like this.

‘I know it’s against your beguiling nature, Julia, but I’d urge you to dress more appropriately … if only for the cooler weather,’ he says.

My cheeks heat. He thinks I’m wearing Haute Couture gowns like loungewear every damn day because I’m trying to seduce his clan?

‘That will be all,’ he says, no longer gifting me with his attention.

I frown at the floor, suddenly very angry at his insinuations. I don’t deserve them.

‘I don’t have anything else!’ I snap, my eyes rising and locking onto him, blazing when he doesn’t immediately look up from his fucking desk.

I swear if he ignores me or dismisses me right now, I’m going to …

‘I beg your pardon?’ he asks, sitting back in his chair.