She hugged herself tighter. What cruel fate had brought her to this house, of all the houses in London?
Emotions played across his face. Surprise. Relief. Rage. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed her upper arm. “What the hell are you doing in my father’s house?”
Arista stepped back, shocked by his reaction. Before, he had been all soft words and warm eyes. There was nothing of that in his face now. The emotions that she saw there were all too familiar. The urge to flee made her muscles spasm painfully.
They’re all alike.
She should have known he had no real concern for her.
“Let go of me.” She tugged at her arm, but he would not release her. She reached for her knife, but Grae spun her around so fast that she lost her balance. Before she could exhale, he had her back pressed up against his chest and his free arm around her waist, holding her immobile against him.
“What are you doing here?” he growled in her ear.
“Let go of me! I’m a guest. The daughter of a business partner.” She gasped out the lie. His hold tightened and she clawed at his arm, kicking back uselessly in a tangle of skirts. He released her suddenly, and fear seized her body. Next his fists would rain down on her. Instinctively she cringed, pulling her arms to her chest. His expression faltered, but the anger never left his eyes.
“I know who you really are, Lady A.” He practically spat the name at her.
The fight left her body, and she glanced around to see if anyone had heard his accusation. They were still alone in the garden, which was both good and bad. Had he known all along? Her stomach rolled and her entire body shook. Her own anger swiftly replaced the fear. He’d used her.
“You knew? When we met, you knew who I was?” she said accusingly. Unwanted tears burned the back of her eyes. What did it matter? Everyone wanted something from her. Except she’d wanted him to be different. She’d believed the lies he’d whispered in her ear.
Grae shook his head, and Arista thought she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes.
“I didn’t know who you were when I met you. I just knew I had to see you again. I asked a few discreet questions. They kept leading me back to the same thing: a woman who traded secrets for money. A cunning blackmailer who wore a mask of raven feathers.” His gaze darted over her face as if he were trying to reconcile the woman in the mask with the girl who stood before him.
Arista tried to still the shaking in her body. No one knew her identity outside the mask, aside from Nic and Becky. He could out her to everyone, and her value to Wild would be gone. Any chance at safety for Becky would be lost with it. Once again, someone else held the power of her future in his hands.
She straightened her shoulders and forced her face into a mask of indifference. He had no proof against her. “You’re mistaken.”
He laughed; a dark, hollow sound. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His stare burned into hers and she couldn’t look away. He lifted his hand and traced a finger along her jaw. His voice was deceptively calm now. “I know it’s you. Your eyes. I won’t forget them until I take my last breath.”
The urge to lean into his touch gripped her. He had haunted her dreams, as well. She could keep denying who she was, but they both knew the truth. “So now what?” she asked, raising her quivering chin at him.
“Now that we have established your identity, I want the bloody truth. What the hell are you doing in my father’s house? Are you blackmailing him? My family?” The hand on her face slipped lower and he gripped her bare shoulder. His touch burned her skin.
“I…” What was she supposed to say? No answer would satisfy him. She started to shake her head.
“Graeden?” Mrs. Sinclair’s voice floated over the garden. “Is that you?” Grae tensed behind her; then his arm slowly fell away. Arista took a quick step away from him.
“I’m here, Mother.”
“Your father said you were home.” Marguerite came to the gate that separated the kitchen garden from Arista’s private one.
Arista pressed her hand against her stomach and turned away, sucking in a quick breath. She kept her gaze on the ground, not wanting to see the hatred in Grae’s eyes. Not that she blamed him one bit. She was an imposter. A fake.
“There you are.…Oh, I see you’ve met our guest, Ana.”
“Yes, we’ve met.” His tone dripped anger. “Actually, Mother, I think you should know…”
Arista gasped. She met his stare and saw his determination. He would tell the family. That could not happen. Not only would it put her in danger, but then they would know Grae’s father had done something very unscrupulous. Secrets like that destroyed families. She would not allow that to happen.
“It’s not what you think,” she whispered quickly.