Page 67 of Bought

I blinked. “Sit down, Isabel. You know nothing about—”

“It’s okay,” she went on. “I know you blame me for her death. I know you hate me because I killed her. I can see it every time you look at me. That’s why you won’t tell me isn’t it?” Then, she added. “And while we’re at it, what were you doing on Friday night? Going to a—”

“Enough, Isabel,” Caleb interrupted, coming around from behind the desk, stopping her in mid-tirade.

I just looked at her, shock pulsing through me along with fury.

Everything she said is true.

No, not it wasn’t. I didn’t blame her for Juliana’s death. I never had. But this wasn’t the time or the place for that conversation. She was furious and I was furious and there was too much tension in the room.

Why did she mention Friday night?

Yet before I could follow that train of thought, Caleb, who’d come around from behind his desk and over to where she stood, gripped her arm. “Come and sit down,” he said quietly to her.

“Ah, kids eh?” Atlas rose from the couch and strolled over to where I stood. “Come on, Ten.” His tone was mild, but the look on his face was not. “You need a drink.”

But I didn’t want a drink. I wanted something else.

I looked at Atlas then Caleb. “That’s not what I need,” I said shortly.

Then I strode past them all and went out.

25

Zara

I spent all day in his stupid guest room, alternately seething at him for being a complete asshole and not only imprisoning me but also walking out on me. And seething at myself for once again revealing everything to him, as if I was justifying myself to him, which I didn’t need, because why should I?

It was true what I’d told him, he had all the wealth and power and privilege in the world. He could pay for high powered lawyers to defend him if he was taken to court, and they’d probably get him off no matter what evidence I found. But I had no wealth and precious little power. I had nothing. I was a nobody just trying to make life better for herself, and that wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t. Besides, surely if he’d killed a man, he deserved to suffer the consequences.

But he was right. Involving him, also involves Isabel.

I slid off the bed and paced around, not liking that thought. But me not liking the thought didn’t make it any less true, because yes, it did involve her. If I’d found evidence that her father had murdered Sir George Wyndham, then he’d go to jail — if his lawyers didn’t get him off — and that would affect her. That would hurt her. She clearly didn’t know what her father had done — if he’d even done it at all — and the police arriving to arrest him would be a hell of a way to find out.

Shame coiled inside me.

I’d used her to get info about her father. I’d thought she’d be just another privileged rich girl who had no idea about the real world, and to some extent she was. But she’d also had her own battles. She was a good person and she’d cared about me.

He’s a good man too.

Was he, though? Or did I just want him to be? Would a good man keep me locked up in the guest room of his house, telling me nothing? Would a good man have murdered someone? Then again, what did I know of good men? I’d never met one.

I stalked around, my brain going in circles and not finding much purchase with anything except anger, because anger was always my go-to since it was easier to bear than shame and disappointment and hurt, and it was certainly better than fear.

Then right when I thought I’d go mad if I didn’t get out of that fucking room, the door burst open, and Fox stood in the doorway in much the same way as he had this morning. Except now there was a fury blazing in him that made me freeze in place.

I was still wrapped in the blanket, yet it may as well not have been there at all as his icy blue gaze raked down my body. And the fury in his eyes suddenly turned into something else. Something hotter, hungrier.

My breath caught.

He looked dangerous, threatening in the most delicious way, and so fierce. He was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

His gaze met mine and for once there was no ice in it, only heat.

I tore the blanket from around me and threw it onto the floor.

The flames in his eyes ignited.