Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(71)

Blade’s eyes widened. “So, if anyone in the office attempts to get in without the boss’s instruction…”

Becky smiled, and the sight of it was so dazzling, he nearly asked her to freeze in place so he could hire a portrait artist. It wouldn’t be inappropriate, he hoped, to ask her to remain still for several hours with that expression stuck on her face. “They’ll be caught red-handed.”

Blade coughed again, the feeling constricting his chest and making his eyes water as he doubled over.

Rebecka leaned above him, her hand on his back. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Blade clutched his abdomen. “You have a sense of humor. My nervous system nearly gave out in shock,” he wheezed.

He straightened in time for Becky to shove him and roll her eyes. “You are the worst.” But when she made to remove her hand, Blade decided the risk to his life was worth it when he reached out to grab it.

She froze but didn’t pull away. Blade took a cloth from his pocket and attempted to wipe away the red. It had already stained her skin, but he could at least dab at the excess.

And have a plausible excuse to hold her hand.

Roland had discreetly moved to a far corner of the grove with the rest of the dust, leaving them alone.

I take it all back. I’ll hit him with a feather.

“It’s not going to come off, at least n-not until I use spider root. It’s the only thing that will remove it, and it only grows on Fortis land,” she said. Blade might have imagined the breathless stutter in Rebecka’s voice, but he wasn’t imagining the breathless sound of his own.

“You’re very wise.” He stopped dabbing and just held still for a moment, looking at her with a well of feeling he never allowed himself to dive into. It was best if Blade felt his emotions at surface level—any deeper, and he grew too intense, too much. If he acknowledged his passion and desire and how deeply they ran, he’d have to acknowledge his anger, too.

It wasn’t the time for that.

“You’re still holding my hand, Mr. Gushiken.” Rebecka’s lips tilted up, and it was almost better than her full-fledged smile. It was like a secret she was keeping, one she was allowing him to know.

What a lucky bastard he was.

“Would you like me to let go?” Blade asked with a quirk of his brow.

She could’ve made a coy, flirtatious reply—he even thought she might have been attempting to think of one, with the way her entire face twisted up in contemplation—but instead, she seemed to settle a quiet argument with herself in the span of a few seconds. “No. I don’t want you to let go.”

It was a simple, honest, direct reply, and Blade was so in love with the woman he was surprised he could still see straight. He entwined his fingers with hers and felt electricity travel up his arm at the contact, and he knew she felt it, too.

They both gasped, and he was a taut thread seconds from snapping, shoving her against the wall, and pressing his lips to hers.

But her brother was less than ten feet away, so that was likely not advisable. Matching her honesty felt appropriate, however, if he did it quietly.

He leaned in and whispered, “Have dinner with me.”

Her brown eyes had little flecks of gold in them, and he was distracted by them as she squeezed his hand. “Ask me. Don’t order me.”

Blade grinned, going down to his knees, and Rebecka looked so horrified he laughed. “Rebecka Eriania Erring Fortis, would you do me the great honor of having dinner with me? I promise I’ll bathe the dragon smell off first.”

Her laugh could cure anything. Blade was convinced of it as soon as it left her lips.

Roland called from a distance, “Rebecka, say yes or our grandmother will never forgive you.”

Blade looked at her pointedly. “We don’t want to disappoint your grandmother.”

Becky nodded, tugging him to his feet and shocking him by leaning up on her toes and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “No, we can’t have that, can we.”

“You have to put weights in my shoes,” Blade said absently.

“What?” Rebecka looked down, then back up at him. “Why?”

“I’m going to float away,” he said, touching the spot on his cheek her lips had brushed.

She shoved him with another laugh, which made the shove more than worth it.

The moment was one of the most—if not the most—perfect moments of Blade’s life.

Until a familiar piercing scream shattered the spell.

That cast a slight pall over it.

The two separated to bring their hands up to their ears. Blade recognized it almost immediately.

“Gods, is that—”

Roland ran to them, his face pinched and angry. “Rebecka, let me explain before anything else is said.”

Several Malevolent Guards stormed from the manor, Marv among them, holding a strange-looking plant: long-stemmed and…screaming.

Rebecka gaped at it. “Is that—” She brought a hand to her lips. “Is that the memory plant?” The memory plant that had absorbed Nura Sage’s screams as she transformed into a star. The same plant that Rebecka’s mother had intended to use to suck Becky’s magic out from under her skin to give over to Benedict in exchange for a cure for the Mystic Illness.

“We found it in your brother’s bedchamber, Ms. Erring,” Marv said, sounding apologetic as he delivered the news, and the other guards grabbed Roland by both arms to restrain him.