Kate Cross - Touch of Steel

“You think I’d abuse her?” He couldn’t keep the indignation from his voice. He’d kill her if necessary, but he would never make sport of her—or any other woman. “I may be an idiot, but I am not cruel, Dhanya.”

“I would never suggest that you were. Only that . . . you’re not exactly an excellent judge of character when it comes to women.”

Carefully, Alastair set his cup and saucer on the desk. He leaned back and linked his hands over his stomach. He put every ounce of will into presenting a calm façade rather than tell his superior exactly what she could do with her opinion of his ability to judge character.

“Perhaps not, but I am an excellent friend. Lucas Grey no longer works in a professional capacity for this organization. He is entirely u Cis ut nsuitable for the task of guarding Brooks. I’ve volunteered my services. You do not have to accept them, but regardless, you will not use Luke.”

Brows as black as raven wings lowered over her eyes. “You do not make those decisions, Lord Wolfred.”

He leaned forward. “He’s a civilian. You have no dominion over him. Leave him alone, Dhanya.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll prove my judgment of women faulty indeed.”

They stared at each other a moment, and then she laughed. There wasn’t much humor in it, but there was enough to make him relax. “Well played, my lord. You let me walk right into that.”

He shrugged. “It would have been ungentlemanly of me to stand in your way. Are we agreed? Luke stays home, and I deal with Brooks?”

“We are. If you wish to have the assignment, it’s yours. But have a care, my lord. If this goes badly, I will hold you responsible. I want the Doctor, Stanton Howard and Claire Brooks delivered to me alive and ready to divulge all their secrets. Am I understood?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good.” She took another sip of tea. “Now have something else to eat. You are far too thin.”

“Sweet hell! Are you trying to kill me?” Claire’s eyes watered as she glared at the woman hovering over her.

Dr. Stone shot her a dry glance. “Luvie, if I wanted you dead, you would be already. I’m trying to help you, so be a good girl and stay still—and quiet.”

Claire might have smiled or had a smart-ass remark in reply if the wound in her side didn’t hurt so damn much. “What is this for?” Two guards had “escorted” her to the hospital ward but hadn’t told her why she was going. She had assumed it was so Stone could check her wound, but now she wasn’t so certain that it wasn’t torture the good doctor had in mind.

“It’s to help your body heal faster.” The other woman removed from Claire’s torn flesh the tip of what had to be the largest syringe ever made. It had to been buried at least two inches inside her.

“I thought you gave me some of that already.”

“This recipe is better.”

“You mean it’s the stuff you give to your agents rather than your prisoners.”

The doctor didn’t even bother trying to look contrite as she covered the raw tissue with a fresh bandage. “Exactly. My employer wants you well quickly, so it’s my job to ensure you are ready for duty.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll escape and take this miracle serum of yours back to the Company?”

Large dark eyes turned to meet hers. “No.”

“You don’t think that’s a little naive?” No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t seem to irk Fis utontthe woman. It made her mood even darker.

Dr. Stone straightened and pointed at a long sideboard against the far wall. “Do you see those three bottles there?”

Claire pushed herself upright, swore at just how difficult movement still was, adjusted her shirt and looked. There were three glass bottles, each filled with a slightly pinkish liquid. “Yes. Is that what you used on me just now?”

“One of them is. And one of them is a synthetic toxin that could kill you instantly.”

“I could take a sample of all three with me.”

“The third is a compound so noxious, a whiff of it would burn the tissues of your nose and throat so badly, you would die a slow and agonizing death.”

No wonder the woman was so confident. “I could hold my breath.”

“Shall I tell you what it would do to your eyeballs?”

Claire stared at her. “You’re bluffing.”

Stone put her hands on her hips. “Go check for yourself.”

“I’m skeptical but not stupid, Doctor. Your formula is safe from me.”

Full lips lifted slightly. “No, ‘stupid’ is not a word I would use to describe you.”

“Though I was stupid enough to get caught.”

The other woman’s expression was guarded, but there was a shrewd glint in her eyes. “You don’t seem to have suffered so badly for it.”

“Except now I’m going to prove myself a traitor and work with a man who would kill me as easily as a dog.”

“Lord Payne would never hurt an animal.”

Claire stared at the doctor, fighting back a bark of unexpected laughter. The woman’s dark eyes sparkled with mirth. “Why don’t you hate me?”

Dr. Stone instantly sobered. “I’ve always thought hate a useless emotion.”

“Really?” Her tone was so dry, sand poured off her tongue.

The other woman began gathering up her medical supplies. “My mother was from Sierra Leone. Are you familiar with it?”

Claire shook her head. “I am not.”

“Many former slaves went there when the government abolished slavery. She was born free. My father was a doctor who went there as a young man. He met my mother, married her and eventually—when I was eleven—brought her back to England. Do you know that there are people here who despise me because of the color of my skin?”

Claire met her direct gaze. “There are many people in my country who would despise you for the same reason.” Slavery in America had been abolished before her birth, but there were people who still clung to the beliefs behind it.

“And it’s such a foolish reason. Did you believe you were doing the right thing when you joined the Company?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m not going to hate you for it. You’ve done nothing to earn my dislike.” The doctor glanced up at the sound of the door opening. “I cannot speak for her, however.”

Claire glanced over her shoulder. Entering the surgical theater was a pretty woman of good height with rich auburn hair and skin the color of cream. She could hate this woman for her perfect complexion. What would the good doctor think of that?

“Who is she?” she asked, turning her attention back to the darker woman.

“Arden Grey,” came the low reply. “Lady Huntley. I believe you know her husband.” There was a wealth of implication behind that judgeless gaze.

“Hell.” And there she was with a hole in her side and no gun. “Is there going to be trouble?”

“Not in my house,” Dr. Stone replied. She went to greet the redhead, putting herself between Claire and the other woman. Something pinched in Claire’s chest—hard. She wasn’t afraid of Arden Grey. There wasn’t much in the world that scared her. No, what she felt was surprise. No one had ever put himself between her and a potential threat before. Not Five—Huntley—not her brother, not even her mother had ever stood at her defense.

If Evelyn Stone asked Claire to kill for her, she would do it without a blink. Did the woman have any idea of the loyalty she’d just earned with a simple confounding act?

Claire remained on the examination table but maneuvered her body so that she sat facing the women, watching. A lot could be learned from simply paying attention to how a person stood. Dr. Stone’s posture was relaxed, but she held her arms across her chest in an almost defensive manner. Arden Grey held a carpetbag in front of her like a shield, but her face was open and free of tension. Neither woman wanted trouble, but they were prepared for it.