Married (12 page)

“Will he help?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but there is no love lost between him and Graves. They haven’t spoken to each other in a dozen years.”

“Why not?”

Tulah stilled, but inside her head, a furious debate raged. She was more than tempted to lay the whole sordid mess out for Adam Davenold’s inspection, as she had no desire to keep Graves’ secrets and desperately wanted him to pay for his crimes. And yet, she knew the consequences of revealing past history.

Graves had made it very clear—if she spoke of what happened twelve years ago, she would find herself tied to Charles’ bed until his lust killed her. The head of security had been far too enamored of that possibility, and Graves was demented enough to allow it to happen.

Tulah wanted to save herself from that fate. She also wanted to protect her mother. She knew she could only push so far before Graves stopped threatening to beat her and started retaliating in more creative ways, in spite of who might be watching. There were too many guests milling about the crowded room, and more would be arriving over the next few days, so she couldn’t tell her tale and risk being overheard.

“I can’t say.” Tulah peered at Adam through her lashes.

Adam nodded his understanding and switched topics. “What’s between you and the guy with all the braids?”

“He’s my warden.” Tulah couldn’t help the waver in her voice. It wasn’t a secret that the man followed her virtually any time she wasn’t being manhandled by his employer. “Charles is Graves’ chief of security.”

“This hotel doesn’t seem large enough to need a chief of security as frightening as him.”

“I didn’t say he worked for the hotel. I said he worked for Graves.”

“Bodyguard?”

Tulah shrugged and distractedly ladled potatoes onto her plate. “Bodyguard, enforcer, all around pain in the arse.”

Adam chuckled quietly. “The braids suit him. You’d think he’d look feminine, but they do add to the treacherous persona he so carefully cultivates, don’t they?” Adam twisted to look at the man over his shoulder. “He’s watching you. He’s always watching you.”

She snuck a peek at Adam’s face and was surprised to see resentment flash in the depths of his eyes. Tulah wondered if that was an encouraging sign. She took a deep breath and licked her lips. “He wants me. He’s made no secret of that.”

“And do you want him?”

Tulah slowly lifted her head to look at Adam directly. He caught and held her gaze, and a warm flush again traveled from her head to her toes. Her heart seemed to slow and her spine seemed to loosen. “No. I don’t want him.”

Adam’s blue eyes darkened and his lashes swept down to half hide them. His nostrils flared as his gaze moved to her lips. Tulah found herself leaning toward his body. He stared at her mouth for a tense moment before shaking himself out of whatever thoughts had captured his attention.

Adam scooped some peas onto her plate. “What’s going on around here?”

“Power plays and manipulations. Dangerous games and treasonous plots. Your cousin told you about the exits?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to destroy the imprisoning spell before we’re ready to leave. That will only complicate matters and draw attention to my Family’s strengths.”

“It’s best to let Graves continue to underestimate your Family for as long as possible,” Tulah agreed.

They’d shuffled to the end of the sideboard, gathering tiny portions of more food than she could ever eat in one sitting, and Tulah knew her time was up. The cheap paper plates Graves had provided for all but the bridal party, Daniel Levy and Madeleine Davenold could only hold so much. Tulah’s threatened to give way under the weight she’d piled on it and Charles was watching her closely. There would be no plausible reason she could give for conversing with Adam Davenold, and Graves would punish her if she didn’t return to her seat fast enough to suit him.

But before she left his side, she had one last thing to tell Adam, keeping in mind his offer of assistance. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, I haven’t figured it out yet. Just…keep your eye on how Graves, and Charles for that matter, treat Daniel Levy. I’ve never known Graves to back down to anyone, not even our Father, Muso, but he’s practically falling all over himself to make Daniel happy.”

“Because he wants this wedding to go through. He’s afraid to offend Daniel and lose his bride.”

Tulah lifted a shoulder. “Maybe he wants this marriage for more than just access to Constance’s body.” Jealousy reared its ugly head and she couldn’t hold back her next words. “Clearly a man doesn’t need to be married to her for that.”

Adam pursed his lips, looking not at all contrite. “I’ve found that everything in this world, including sex, always boils down to politics. Graves wants Daniel’s influence, Daniel wants an alliance to offset the one your Family has with the Njeles.”

Tulah narrowed her eyes, gaining a new perception of him and wondering how that fit in with her plans. “You’re a cynic.”

“I’m just a man whose body has been used for political power plays before.”

Adam moved away quickly, his hard tone leaving Tulah with a sinking feeling. Carefully balancing her plate as she wended through the crowd, she weighed her options. Intuition was screaming, her conscience was bullying and her mother’s words were spinning through her memory.

She wasn’t remotely at ease when she regained her seat, and Charles only made it worse by clamping his meaty palm over the top of her thigh and squeezing. He pinned her to her chair with an icy look and jerked his chin toward her plate. “That’s more than a salad.”

“I was hungrier than I knew.”

“What did the Matriarch’s man speak to you about?”

Tulah searched for calm as desperately as she searched for words. Once again, Charles’ hold on her stopped just shy of painful, but with his hand as high on her leg as it was, Tulah found it difficult to sit still, to think, to breathe. To not throw up. In that moment, she would have traded nearly anything to have been in Graves’ clutches, because at least he only watched her with mocking hostility. Charles’ eyes burned with lust, jealousy and possessiveness.

Fighting nausea, she pushed her full plate away. “We were discussing dinner,” she finally grated out. “He was surprised he had to serve himself at the sideboard, rather than being served at his table.”

Charles grunted and backed off slightly, though he maintained his hold on her leg. “He’s American. I thought they all loved buffets.”

On her other side, Daniel’s lips pinched and he leaned in to set Charles straight. Claustrophobia took hold of Tulah as she became caged by the two men, but she tried to pay attention to Charles. She struggled to glean any information about his relationship to Daniel, and why the powerful enforcer was so subservient to a man rumored to be entirely too weak in magic to be a threat.

As Adam had claimed, it had to boil down to politics.

With that thought, Tulah looked over at Constance, happily chatting with her expressionless groom, and wondered if the woman was quite right in her assessment of Adam Davenold. In the conversation Tulah had overheard between Constance and her mother, a plan had been laid out to garner the Davenold male’s attention through a careful balance of aggression and indifference. A challenge to draw him closer.

Constance didn’t appear to be having the slightest bit of luck in that regard, which only made Tulah wonder more. Again, her intuition was telling her something different from what she’d expected or planned for. Tactics would need to be changed.

Chapter Ten

Adam

“What was that?”

Adam shuffled his chair forward and raised his brows in his sister’s general direction, opposite the table. A table for two, as he and his twin had arrived late to dinner and missed the opportunity to park themselves with the rest of their Family. They had no choice but to sit by themselves in the nest of Ngozi vipers, and the few Levys who’d made it to England so far had avoided them like the plague.

“What was what, Chris?”

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Your little tête-à-tête with the pretty pet.”

“Cute.” He restrained his impulse to look over his shoulder and find the woman in question. “I was asking about the situation we all find ourselves in here.”

“Learn anything?”

“She’s not the usual patriarchal female. Tulah’s got grit, no autonomy, but definitely grit. A little bit of help and she could really do something with herself.”

“Careful there,” his sister warned. “You sound like you’re ready to jump in and save her. You have a bad habit of doing things like that.”

Adam shifted uncomfortably on his chair. A denial bubbled up, ready to leap forth and proclaim his intentions as nothing more than mercenary, solely based on the need to gather information about their strange host and exactly what he was up to. But his twin knew him too well, and she’d see right through him.

Instead, he shrugged and aimed for cocky. “Maybe she needs to be saved. In wild and wicked ways.”

“At what cost?” Christiana’s blue eyes dimmed the way they always did when troubling thoughts occupied her beautiful head. “He’s already unhappy at your association with his fiancé, you may be further provoking Graves for no good reason.”

Adam waggled his brows. “Have you seen Tulah? That’s a damn fine reason.”

Chris frowned, and Adam felt a flash of anxiety shoot through his spine. She was too damn clever and perceptive where he was concerned, and Adam could only thank whatever Fate had made him late for dinner that Georgie was seated elsewhere. She could be even more perceptive than Christiana, when she had her eyes open. And her eyes were definitely wide open and scanning constantly, in the Ngozi residence.

“You worry me, Adam.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m a big boy who can take of myself.”

“When we first came here, you practically vibrated the moment Graves pulled Tulah into the light. Then,” Chris waved her hand, indicating the sideboard, “over there, the two of you looked like magnets, drawing closer, and I’m not the only one who noticed. I’ve never seen you so aware of a woman before.”

“I’m always aware of every woman in any room.”

She shook her head. “I get it. She’s exotic enough and fragile enough to appeal to your jaded sensibilities and if all you want is a quick roll in her bed, then forget I ever said anything. But I know you, and I know how protective you can be—”

“Only for the women in our Family, honey.”

“No, you’re protective of all women.” Chris’ brows lowered dramatically. “Especially, when you think a woman is being abused.”

“She’s definitely being abused.” Adam gritted his teeth and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t worry, I’ve got experience handling that kind of thing now.”

Chris paled and looked away, shaking her head. Remorse wended through Adam’s chest as her lips tightened and she blinked rapidly.

His sister’s words, when they came, were low enough he strained to hear them. “I made a mistake, letting myself get swept away by a beautiful face.” She pinned him with a pained glare that still managed to convey a rage deeper than he comprehended. “Don’t let that happen to you.”

Christiana’s eyes filled with bitterness, and he couldn’t help but compare the expression to the one Tulah constantly wore. The Ngozi woman’s was just a bit different, sparkling with suspicion—and not just of Graves, but of life and all the unfairness it could heap on a person’s head. He wondered how long it would be before Tulah’s pain matched his sister’s.

Adam took a calming breath and tamped down on his instincts. He may have a protective streak, but he was no one’s savior. He couldn’t involve himself in Tulah’s problems—no matter how tempting her face and form, no matter how much her prickly pride amused him—until he’d settled his own issues. The woman was pretty to look at, and Adam would truly love to see a real smile cross her full lips, but he was already in a mess that kept him off balance amongst the Ngozis. He didn’t need to add to it.

As if his private thoughts called her, Constance’s arms slid over his shoulders, her fingers linking together over his heart as she tightened her hold. Adam was effectively trapped in his chair. He didn’t like it. Across from him, Christiana’s eyes went wide then icy as she took in his expression. Adam cast a glance around the dining room to measure the reactions of the other guests.

Adam grabbed Constance’s arm and peeled her off his body, thrusting her into the empty chair to his left as she lost her balance. Unperturbed, Constance smiled, placed one elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her palm. Her other hand lifted to stroke over Adam’s dress shirt.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice cold, he threw diplomacy down the drain as he turned to her with angry eyes. “We’re in a room full of people gathered here for
your
wedding.”

Constance lifted a perfectly arched brow. “They don’t care. They hardly even know who I am. They’re only here for the free food, and because Daniel demanded their presence.”

Two tables over, his grandmother tossed a look Adam’s way that made him cringe. She held his gaze meaningfully before finally releasing him to return to her conversation with Eliasz Levy. Adam just managed not to clench his jaw as he reluctantly obeyed his grandmother’s all but telepathic command.

He slouched back in his chair and offered the nuisance at his side a wholly fake, yet cheerful smile. “Honey, you’ve got to be discreet. You’ll get me killed before we can…reacquaint ourselves.”

Constance’s palm drifted lower. “Hmm, that sounds promising. The reacquainting part, that is.”

“
But
”—Adam grabbed her hand before she could reach his waistband—“it won’t be happening in public, practically on the eve of your wedding.”

“Adam, we’ve been over this. This is hardly a real wedding.”

“Nevertheless, it
is
a wedding.”

Christiana leaned forward, mimicking Constance’s posture as she, too, leaned her chin into her palm. “Wow, sweetie, you must really be put out at marrying Graves, huh? That’s so sad, being stuck with a man like that for the rest of your life. My sympathy.”