Free In Total Surrender by Anne Mallory Page B

stay here for the night. There was no need for him to do sweeps and reconnaissance like some lackey.
    He would get a royal amount of shit from his brother upon his return to town. Andreas automatically started planning his responses.
    . . . the Paces were now working for him as a result of Phoebe Pace’s promises.
    . . . he was enveloping the family further into his plans for revenge.
    . . . they had already been enveloped.
    . . . he had already deployed men to watch them. This added protection was to ensure everyone’s safety.
    Mocking laughter echoed in his mind.
    His fingers tightened into a fist. He stared up at the one window where the drape was parted just an inch. It had been thus since he’d been there, no cause for alarm. Still, he pictured her peeking through, a smile pulling red lips.
    His attention immediately pulled back to his surroundings when he saw the edges of the shapes moving down the street. His instincts had been correct. He wondered what had tipped off his enemies— their enemies, since the Merricks and Paces were now linked— their enemies, and wasn’t that just irony.
    Twenty minutes later, he and his men finished incapacitating the last of the moving shadows outside of Phoebe Pace’s house. For a moment he thought he saw that same damn drape move. Pulling into the absolute darkness, he kept his gaze narrowed on the window for long minutes, but nothing happened.
    A trick of the moon? The attacks had been noiseless. The torches had been easily snuffed before the attackers’ intentions had become obvious. And he never made the mistake of letting anyone see him.
    Still, his gaze rested upon the window for far longer than necessary, once again.
    He didn’t know what he expected. For the foolish woman to peer through? For her to lift up the pane and wave?
    Tension thrummed through him, unabated by the fight. The extinguished torches at his feet smelled of oil and snuffed flame, curling through the air, making his eyes close for a moment.
    When he opened them, he swore the drape had moved once more.
    He cursed himself and whipped through the shadows, back to the East End of town. The house was safeguarded and would be safeguarded—a continual exchange of men to guard it—and so maybe now he could purge the damn woman and her damn smile from his mind.

Chapter 6
     
    S he was sitting in the seat on the other side of his desk the next morning, tilted toward the door, with the damn basket on her lap. The same one he had been haunted by for a week. Wearing the same smile he had been haunted by for months. He entered the room and quickly averted his gaze.
    “Good morning, Mr. Merrick. You are looking fine this morning.”
    He had passed the looking glass on the way here. He looked like the back alley—before it had been scrubbed. He had grabbed three hours of sleep after another assassination attempt, the burning of Building Seven at the docks, where his enemies had thought the Exchange records had been transferred, and the amusement outside her home. Last night’s assailants were down the street in one of his secure facilities, waiting for him to do with them as he willed.
    Having in custody the men from her attack meant he had to do more questioning. He hated questioning. It meant speaking, and possibly having to change his clothes afterward. But he wasn’t going to trust the questioning to someone else—not on this.
    And here Miss Bleeding Sunshine sat, looking as if just this morning she’d been attended by fairies, baked with elves, and had tea with a unicorn.
    “What do you want?” he asked brusquely.
    “I am here to offer my report and to share what I’ve been up to.” She extended the basket across his desk as he sat in his chair. “And to bring you these. The basket has been empty each night, so I hope you have been enjoying them.”
    Of course the boys would have finished the treats after removing them. It was always their own choice whether to eat Andreas’s food.
    He