Free Sins of a Wicked Princess by Anna Randol

her hand but didn’t remove it. “Someone wants me dead. Not surprising, but they also want my friends dead. That I will not tolerate. Someone put a price on their heads tonight.” His sigh was low. “Gads, but I grow weary of this.”
    “Who wants them dead?”
    Oh.
    She felt like an idiot. “Hence why you are here.”
    “Precisely.”
    “What about the papers I need to retrieve?”
    “I’m sorry. I no longer have the time to play schoolmaster. Your love letters will have to wait.”
    She jerked her hand back. “Love letters? Is that what you think I’m doing?” She stood and walked to the window. “You aren’t the only one with lives in the balance.”
    Ian followed her, his face cloaked in shadows. “Just tell me who betrayed their identities and I’ll be on my way.”
    “No.” She couldn’t believe the word came out of her mouth.
    Ian stiffened. “To which part?”
    “Both.” She held up a hand. “And do not growl at me. I will offer you the information you seek tonight if you will continue to help me.”
    “I don’t like being denied, Princess.” He drew his knife.
    She fought to keep her face smooth as he’d taught her earlier. She really knew nothing about Ian. She suspected he was much more dangerous than he allowed her to see.
    Yet somehow she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
    He stepped closer to her with the knife. “Aren’t you going to cower?”
    She shrugged. “No.”
    “I’m not a good man, Princess. I’ve killed many, many people.”
    Princesses didn’t back down. “But you won’t kill me.”
    He stepped close enough that she could finally see his eyes. They were dark with something she couldn’t read. He drew the hilt of the knife down her cheek. The steel was smooth and warm from his fingers. “Why would you believe that?”
    “Because you’re not a monster.”
    His laugh was sharp, bitter. “Many people would argue that point.” But after a long moment he sighed and sheathed his knife. “What is this deal?”
    “We’re both after the same man. The man you seek is also the man who holds my documents.”
    “Your lover is the one who betrayed us?”
    She shoved him. “Are you dense? I said it wasn’t love letters. The man is blackmailing someone close to me. I need to get the evidence he holds.”
    If anything, his expression darkened further. “Who, Jules?”
    “The Duke of Sommet.”
    Ian fell back a step. “Son of an eel bastard.”
    I an’s world tilted slightly before it righted itself.
    Sommet.
    Why the hell hadn’t he forced her to tell him earlier? If Sommet had her papers, she took her life into her hands trying to retrieve them.
    Quite literally.
    There wasn’t real organization within the Foreign Office, just a collection of groups run by various interests. But Sommet managed to have his web spread over all of them, pulling strings and arranging outcomes from shadows even darker than Ian’s own.
    It was said the prince regent didn’t take a piss without Sommet’s permission.
    Ian may have killed dozens, but Sommet was said to have wiped out entire cities, platoons, countries.
    “What the devil are you into?” he asked.
    “I cannot tell you.”
    “Does it have to do with your fool brother?”
    “It doesn’t concern you.” But her hesitation had been as good as a yes.
    “So what is your plan then? How do you intend to get us close?”
    “He’s hosting a house party to which I’ve accepted an invitation. I had intended to leave at the end of the week. You can come along as one of my party.”
    “One of your servants.”
    Her cheeks darkened. “Unless you can think of a better option.”
    Ah, the refreshing sting of honesty. “No. I’ve always fancied being a royal footman.”
    “We can leave the day after tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “Impossible. Do you know how difficult it is to move a household of this size? The day after tomorrow will still be difficult. I have meetings that must be moved. Engagements that must be