Midnight Jewel
Page 58

 Richelle Mead

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   I studied him a beat, sensing but not quite able to identify something in his words that didn’t ring true as he settled down on the floor. “Okay.” I sat cross-legged near him, stretching out my stiff back. My scalp itched and sweated from the wig.
   As I started to unpin it, he said, “I guess you’re really taking the ‘get comfortable’ part seriously.”
   I paused. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”
   “Do whatever you want.” But he looked away as I shook out my real hair, his gaze settling on the darkened window across the room. “So what is it?”
   “I was at a dinner party a couple of nights ago and discovered something pretty significant.”
   “Your future husband?”
   “Better. I found a way for you to finally make some friends.”
   He focused back on me and listened with a raised eyebrow as I explained about the heretic patrols and how he might infiltrate them.
   “You wanted to get in with the city’s elite,” I told him. “If you can’t do it by putting on a satin ball gown, then why not by joining a bunch of zealots who want to round up people for their beliefs?”
   “I’d rather put on the gown than run around with a lot like that, but it is a good opportunity. I heard about some arrests while I was in the shop this morning, but I didn’t realize active recruitment was going on.” His grimace softened. “That was a smart connection to make.”
   “I guess it’s a good thing I came over, then.”
   His lips almost edged into a smile. “Yes, yes. I already apologized. Don’t rub it in.”
   “You didn’t apologize, actually, but I know you think you did, so that’s something.” He didn’t respond to that as I’d expected, and an uneasy silence fell over us. I wasn’t sure what to do now. I didn’t usually have to make small talk with Grant. “Why did you shave?”
   He automatically rubbed his smooth chin, which I’d noticed as soon as he’d opened the door. “Silas. He thinks being clean cut makes me look more like a respectable shopkeeper. I like keeping some there. Gives me more flexibility with disguises.”
   “That’s why? I always thought you were just lazy.”
   “So you agree with him?”
   I tilted my head so I could better scrutinize him. The shave didn’t diminish his looks any. In fact, I found it novel to finally get such a clear view of his face, the enticing shape of his lips, the strong jawline. “I guess I can see where other people might think it’s more respectable. But I miss the scruffiness. It was one of the few endearing things you had going for you.”
   “And you say I’ve got the attitude tonight.”
   “You’re not the only one who’s tired. I’ve been dancing and smiling all night and then trekked through a marsh to get to you.” I stretched out my leg and winced. “It was getting better, but the walk over here undid all the improvement.”
   He started to reach for my calf and then halted. His hands fell to his lap, and he looked away again. “Just keep trying to stay off it. That’ll help.”
   When the silence returned, I asked, “What’s the matter with you tonight?”
   “Nothing’s the matter.”
   “But you’re . . .” I struggled to articulate it. “You’re acting like I really am bothering you. You won’t even look at me.”
   He let out a heavy, exasperated breath. “What else do you want me to do? I already told you the heretic lead was good. And your Scarborough one was too. I even made sure you got full credit for your genius when I passed that one to Silas.”
   “Did you?”
   Something in my tone made him turn back. “Why wouldn’t I?”
   I bit my lower lip, unwilling to admit to eavesdropping.
   “Mirabel?” prompted Grant. “Tell me what you aren’t telling me.”
   “You first.”
   “What?”
   “You said you’d always tell me the truth. But you haven’t been.”
   “That’s not true.”
   “You just lied again.”
   “I did not— Fine.” He pushed aside unruly hair and avoided my eyes yet again. “What do you want to know? Ask a question, I’ll answer. Ask two questions. Three. It makes no difference.”
   “Silas wanted me out that first day. Why didn’t you tell me or do what he said?”
   That took him aback. “How . . . do you know about that?”
   “I listened at the door when you were arguing.”
   “Of course you did. Look, you want the truth? You’re too valuable to this case. I didn’t want you out and figured there was no reason to stress you with his grumbling.” Grant shook his head, relaxing a little at the opportunity for a quip. “And now I know to always check behind closed doors.”
   “Don’t joke. And look at me. You should have—” I tugged at his hand as I spoke, trying to draw his attention. The touch of his skin sent a jolt racing through my body, every nerve suddenly waking up. He flinched, as though he’d felt it too, and I immediately let go.
   And in that agonizing moment, I realized what was wrong. While I’d been fantasizing and wrestling with the throes of lust, he’d had a very different reaction. The opposite, really. That’s why he kept averting his eyes. Why he wouldn’t touch my leg. Why he hadn’t wanted me here at all. I could feel heat flooding my face.
   I sprang to my feet. “I’ll leave.”
   I caught only a glimpse of his astonishment before I turned toward the door. I was reaching out to open it when he put his hand on my shoulder. My whole body froze with the realization that he was standing right behind me.