Leather & Lark (The Ruinous Love Trilogy, #2) (58)

But he can’t know that. And neither can Lachlan.

I might not know what the fuck I’m doing negotiating contracts in this underground world, but one thing I do know is how to play a part.

“I’ve come to discuss the Montague contract,” I say. Leander is about to take a bite of a muffin but pauses. A slow smile stretches across his lips.

“Right down to business, hmm? I knew I liked you.” That grin of Leander’s reaches his eyes as he looks to Lachlan. He takes a bite of the muffin, leaving us in silence as he chews and swallows before he speaks. “I thought you said there would be two contracts in exchange for your retirement.”

Lachlan is rigid beside me. He’s sitting so close to me that I can feel the tension radiate from his coiled muscles. “I said my wife will make you a deal. The conditions are up to her.”

“One contract now, I’ll pay the full retainer, and I’ll initiate one job immediately,” I say, forcing myself to hold his penetrating gaze. “Once that job is done, Lachlan is out, and you’ll have your second contract.”

Leander’s brows flick once, a reaction that feels too much like dissatisfaction for my liking. His head bobs with a pensive nod and he takes another bite of the muffin before he raises his eyes to me. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll follow through on the second contract?”

“You don’t,” Lachlan says before I have the chance to answer. “So I won’t leave until you have it.”

I dart a sharp glance toward Lachlan before he can make any further promises. I know how much he wants out. He needs it. And I don’t want him to stay on Leander’s hooks longer than he has to. Something about that just doesn’t sit right with me.

My focus returns to Leander as he washes the last bites of the muffin down with a long sip of beer. “I will get you the Covaci contract, but this job needs to be done first.”

“Search, protection, and kill, is that right?” he asks, and I nod. “Lachlan mentioned the muffin business is darker than it seems. Certainly is delicious though.” Leander finishes the last bite and brushes the crumbs from his hands before he sets the baking paper aside. “Some of the last ever made by Ethel Montague herself. Chef’s kiss.”

I watch as Leander kisses his fingertips in a dramatic al bacio gesture before his gaze settles on mine. With just a blink, he goes from jovial and amused to stern and shadowed. My eyebrows raise in a silent question. What now?

After another pull from his pint glass, Leander leans a little closer, steepling his fingers as he regards me. “One million for the retainer. Five jobs a year.”

“You told me five hundred thousand,” Lachlan says. “And she gets unlimited access to the office to use the investigational resources whenever she wants.”

Leander’s smile is predatory as it shifts from Lachlan to me. “She can have unlimited use. For double. And five jobs a year.”

“Six hundred thousand, unlimited access to the office, and four jobs a year. And I initiate that job today with a one-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus if the aggressor is identified and killed before my aunt passes away.” I feel the fleeting graze of Lachlan’s knuckles across my wrist and turn, meeting the question in his eyes. Just like at brunch with my parents, I know what he’s asking without words. “I want her to know her family is safe before she goes.”

A smile sneaks across Leander’s lips as he extends a hand across the space between us. “Done.”

I take his hand, and as soon as I let go, he’s writing in the agreed numbers and passing me the paperwork to sign.

Leander claps his hands together. With this business done, his demeanor shifts again. He starts poking Lachlan for details on the recent Kane weddings, information that Lachlan deftly keeps to a minimum. It seems second nature for Lachlan to provide just enough color for Leander to feel satisfied, and just enough shade to keep him at arm’s length. By the time I’ve wired the retainer money, Leander seems relaxed, maybe even a bit drunk, though he’s only finished one pint since we arrived.

I tamp down a grim smile.

“All right, kids,” he says with a slight slur as he slaps his palms to his knees. “Feel free to get started in the office whenever you like. The sooner the better, right?”

“Right.”

Leander stands. He takes two unsteady steps.

Then he falls flat on his face.

“Shit,” Lachlan hisses as he bolts upright. I smooth my hands over my skirt as Lachlan checks Leander’s breathing and taps him a few times on the cheek. “Well, that’s a bonus. He’s alive.” When Lachlan’s shocked gaze lands on me, I’m waiting with a sheepish smile. “What in the bloody feckin’ hell, Lark?”

“Yeah … I kinda thought that might happen.”

“Seriously?”

I shrug. “Ethel doesn’t like to be bossed around. Especially when it comes to muffins. She gets a little vindictive.”

“How about this, you feckin’ catastrophe—clue me in next time before you give my psycho boss drugged baked goods, yeah?”

“To be fair, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure they were drugged. Ethel was pretty vague about us not eating them.”

“Were you going to tell me that?”

“I figured you wouldn’t touch them out of spite.”