The Hellion (Wicked Wallflowers #1)(71)

“My brother,” she corrected. God, how he abhorred her connection to that vile bastard, and how he resented her injecting him here. “He’s a good man.”

He met that with a mutinous silence. Adair knew precisely who Broderick Killoran was.

Cleopatra carried on in more wistful tones than he ever remembered her using. “He joined Diggory’s gang when he was orphaned. He was educated, a scholar who knew books. Knew math and poetry and Greek mythology and how to dance and . . .” She scrunched her mouth up. “He knew a lot.” She grinned wryly. “Growing up on the streets, he knows even more now.”

Surprise filled him. Her revelation was the most he or his siblings had ever gleaned about the enigmatic proprietor. And the puzzle that had eluded him all these years now slid into place. Why, it all made sense. Broderick Killoran had offered Diggory the one thing none of his lesser-born street thugs could—a bookish mind.

“So that is how Diggory managed to keep books and handle a business,” he said to himself.

Cleopatra nodded once. “Broderick had power over Diggory. My brother demanded he have the right to keep us safe. After Diggory realized how powerful my brother in fact was, he never laid hands on me or my sisters ever again.”

How was it possible to find himself so very indebted to Broderick Killoran? His gaze slid to the scarred flesh—that letter D left upon her palm by a monster. A cinch squeezed off airflow to his lungs. She’d known so much suffering. Feeling her stare on him, he forced himself to say something. Cleopatra would interpret any admiration or warmth as pitying. “It’s why neither me nor Ryker nor Calum had ever been of true value to him.” And Diggory had been too small a man to see Helena’s skill with numbers.

“Diggory’s bounties all went to the Devil’s Den, but it was Broderick who built it into what it is and allowed me to become who I did inside our world.”

A woman of courage, strength, and influence, who with her business acumen where gaming hell business was concerned, could rival Adair and his brothers. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “No one made you into the woman you are. You did that all yourself.” Her and the experiences that she’d suffered through and emerged triumphant, despite.

She shook her head. “You’re wrong there. You see me as Oi am now. Oi wasn’t always fearless. Oi didn’t speak my mind to Diggory. Oi found my voice when Broderick came ’round.”

Adair palmed her cheek. “Oh, Cleopatra. You’ve never been anything less than a warrior.”

Her lips parted, and a whispery sigh wafted out.

Wanting to ease the heartache he saw there and drive back talks of Diggory and Killoran and right or wrong and good or bad, he drew her fingertips to his lips. “My turn, then.”

She looked at him quizzically.

“Visit the Hell and Sin with me,” he clarified.

It was an act his brother would have his head for if the truth were discovered, but for the first time since his siblings had each wed their respective spouses, Adair understood what it was to want to bring a woman nothing but laughter and happiness.

Her eyes went soft. “When?”

He grinned. “Now.”





Chapter 19

There had once been a time when the sole reason Cleopatra would have cared to visit the Hell and Sin Club was to learn its inner workings so she could plot its demise and bring it down.

Forty minutes later, after a carriage ride through the empty London streets, Cleopatra made her way through the dark lanes of St. Giles, filled with an altogether different kind of eagerness to visit the hell. One that stemmed from a desire to step inside Adair’s club. That was a world she was wholly comfortable within.

Nay. You want to know everything about Adair Thorne and his world for reasons that have nothing to do with the long-standing rivalry between your clubs.

Adair slipped his hand into hers, and she automatically folded her fingers around his. She stole a sideways glance at him, this man who’d come to mean so very much.

He was the first person whom she’d shared secret parts of herself with, agonizing memories she’d not even revealed to her siblings. And what will happen when you have to leave him . . . ?

A dull, knifelike pain stabbed at her chest, but Cleopatra pushed back the grief that came in thoughts of their parting. She would steal whatever time she had left with him.

They reached the end of the street, and he drew his hand back. “Here,” he murmured, adjusting the cap he’d given her before they’d left Black’s townhouse. He briefly inspected the boy’s breeches and dark jacket she’d donned.

“’ow’s Oi look, guv’nor?” she teased, dropping a jaunty bow.

Adair lingered his gaze on her hips, and her earlier levity faded. When he lifted his eyes to hers, the heat within their green depths scorched her. “Perfect,” he said hoarsely. “You look perfect.”

And Cleopatra, who’d never been made to feel anything but the boylike, bespectacled sister of Broderick Killoran, felt beautiful.

“Come,” he murmured, setting a slow path along the pavement. They stepped around several drunken sailors snoring in the way. “I’ve guards stationed at each entrance,” he explained.

“If they’re worth their weight as guards, they’ll wonder why you’re here at this hour . . . with a young boy, no less.”