Page 72 of Apprentice to the Villain

She sounded cheerful, which for some reason gave him a horrid feeling. He moved around his desk and fixed his eyes on her face. Her warm black curls were pinned back by two golden butterfly combs, and her white tunic hung over a loose pair of trousers. The combs matched a butterfly pattern painted onto the design of her corset. She looked put together and well rested.

He had a sudden urge to pull the combs out and muss her hair, just to undo her as she did him.

“No, Sage. I believe I have things well in hand.”

Kingsley held up two signs behind her back.

AandMess.

Little traitor.

Sage lifted a brow and folded her arms across her chest, drawing his attention there for a second before he forced his gaze back up to her face. “Well, then,” she said curtly, “I suppose you don’t need me at all.”

His body screamed the contrary.

But it was good. They needed this careful distance between them if they were to have any sort of professional future. If he was going to have any hope of forgetting he’d nearly kissed her in the water cellar—not to mention accomplishing his takeover of Rennedawn without interference—this was for the best.

The pain in his chest would go away.

“I’m taking my carriage; Keeley and Nesma will ride behind me just as a precaution. I’ll continue the rest of the way on my own,” he finished, though he felt very much like he was being quizzed on an exam he was entirely unprepared for. And by the look in his assistant’s eyes…

He’d gotten every answer wrong.

But her eyes were the only place to reflect this. The rest ofher face stayed in that nearly perfectly pleasant mien, like she’d stuck a hanger behind her teeth. “Excellent. Well, I hope you have a pleasant trip, and I wish you every success.” She moved in a flurry to leave, and all things considered, he was in the clear.

There was no explaining why he lurched forward, though, almost instinctually, to clasp her hand in his. The touch sent a shock through his hand and up his arm, angling right for his heart…and other, less polite places.

She swallowed. “Was there— Is there something else you needed, sir?”

You.

His thoughts were committing treason now, railing against him and everything he was endeavoring to conquer. His feelings, his body, his heart, hismemories—they were all warring, and the object of their ire and desire was so close he could count the gray flecks in her irises, buried beneath the blue.

She is your employee,he thought desperately.

But his heart shortened it.

She is yours.

“No!” he yelled aloud.Damn it.

Sage ripped her hand from his, probably because he was acting like he’d just been struck by lightning. She took his outburst as a response to her question, thankfully. Or perhaps not thankfully, by the silent fury in her now-pained expression. “Very well. Have a pleasant evening.”

He would have a more pleasant evening ripping off each of his fingernails. But he responded, “I will return successful.”

Her eyes softened before she shook her head. “I’m sure you will.”

“And how will you spend your evening?” he couldn’t help asking.

She clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her head. “Some of the guards invited me to join them for drinks.”

He didn’t like the airiness in her voice. “Guards? Which ones?”

“Dante, Amar, Daniel…”

“Daniel is a philanderer,” he warned.

Sage winked playfully. “Let’s hope so.”