The Wicked Heir (Spare Heirs #3)(131)

At any other time and with anyone else, Dell would never have allowed a person to just enter his home in such a way. But his current physical sensitivity to this woman had him stepping back on instinct to avoid direct contact, which gave her just enough room to sweep the rest of the way into the house.

Damn and blast.

Closing the door with a hard click, he turned to face her and saw that she had already crossed the small hall to the parlor. Dell gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Following her into the front room, he watched with a further tightening in his loins as she swept her voluminous cloak from her shoulders to toss it carelessly to the sofa.

She was still clothed in the same evening gown from the night before. Dell couldn’t stop his gaze from dropping briefly down her narrow back to the suggestive curve of her hips and buttocks before she spun around again to face him.

“I do not believe it is proper manners to so rudely force your way into someone’s home,” he said almost plaintively. “Especially when they are not at home.”

She laughed then, a full-bodied sound accompanied by a knowing flash in her eyes. She arched her winged black brows and placed her hands on her hips. “Do not bother with the theatrics. I know it is you, Mr. Turner,” she declared.

How the hell had she known?

The first time anyone had ever seen through one of his disguises, and it had to be she.

Dell considered denying it, but figured the truth would likely get her out of there faster.

“Fine,” he said in his natural voice, which carried more than a hint of his annoyance. “Mind telling me what the hell you are doing back here? I told you I would let you know when I learned something.”

“And did you? Learn something?” she asked, her tone hopeful.

“Not yet,” he replied stiffly, expecting her to press him further or demand he do more.

“Well, the situation has changed.”

Dell narrowed his gaze. “How?”

“My sister returned home safely less than two hours ago.”

It was not what he’d expected to hear. But it would do. “You have come to pay the remainder of my fee, then?”

She tipped her head, allowing the black ringlets falling from her coiffure to gently graze her collarbone. “Not exactly.” Turning away, she strolled toward the front window.

“Then what? Exactly?” he asked, fighting the inexplicable desire to follow her across the room.

She glanced back over her shoulder with a challenging light in her gaze. “You were hired to find my sister and bring her home. Since she obviously managed to do that on her own, I have decided to give you another chance to earn your full fee.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Dell asked, “What would you have me do now?”

She shifted the direction of her gaze, glancing down to where her slim fingers fidgeted with the seam of the curtains. There was a hint of reluctance in her manner. But she was clearly determined.

She lifted her chin and once again met his gaze with a direct and stubborn look.

“Apparently, my sister was rescued from the brothel by a gentleman who recognized her and decided to do the honorable thing. She has indicated that she does not want his identity to become known. Out of some odd sense of loyalty, she wishes to protect the man.”

There was a pause while she set her chin at a stubborn angle. He knew what she was going to ask of him before the words came from her mouth.

“While I promised I would not try to discover this gentleman’s identity, I want you to keep watch on my sister for a while. Covertly, of course.”

As a rule, Dell did not argue with his clients. He did what he was hired to do, and that was that. But something in this woman’s obstinate conviction urged him to at least try to help her see reason.

“You want me spy on your sister?” he clarified.

“Yes,” she replied.

Dell sighed. “You said she is home again and unharmed?”

She frowned and turned to face him. “So she says.”

“Then what cause do you have for further investigation?”

“Because she is lying.”

Dell eyed her skeptically.

“It is true. I always know when Lily is being deceptive.” She walked to the window, where she stopped to stare out at the street. “It is not like her to keep secrets from me. Something is not right.”

She pivoted in place and strode toward Dell as he stood leaning against the back of the sofa, his ankles crossed in front of him in a casual stance. His muscles tensed when she stopped all too close for his peace of mind to stare at him with her sharp, fixed gaze.

“I need to be certain she is not still in some sort of trouble. I must be assured she is safe.”

Instinct urged him to refuse. One thing he had learned was that when people spied on loved ones, they often discovered things they were better off not knowing.

Still, there were only a couple of things he would never agree to do regardless of the profit. Outright murder was one. Harming a child was the other. Beyond those two rules, he was willing to do anything as long as it paid well. He had spied, stolen, threatened vile consequences to get what he needed, and infiltrated gangs and crime rings. He had used physical force to make a point and to save his own hide, and had occasionally been forced to do things he was not particularly proud of. But it was the purse that mattered, not the job. His success was based on his ability to remain passionless and detached. That philosophy had done well for Dell over the years.