A shuddery gasp exploded from Reggie’s lips. Her legs swayed under her, and she sank lifeless into the seat across from him.
Broderick made a show of studying the contracts his solicitor had hastily written up. Ones that would turn this place from his hold over to Reggie’s. He drew out the moment, feeling her eyes on him, taking in his every movement. That mastery of any exchange he’d learned not from Diggory, the gang leader who’d taken him under his wing, but from the earl his late father had once served. From that influential member of the peerage, Broderick had appreciated the power of silence and had come to use it as a tool to unsettle his opponents. At last, he shifted his attention briefly to the tense spitfire opposite him. “Shall we begin?”
Except . . .
Reggie seethed, the fury emanating from her aquamarine irises threatening to burn him. “Let’s,” she clipped out.
Knocked briefly off-kilter by that show of resolve, he attended his documents. “Now.” Gathering the stack of papers in hand, Broderick flipped through, searching for one item in particular. “I understand you had terms agreed upon with the previous owner? What was the sum of the purchase price?”
Tension crackled in the room.
He glanced up.
And if looks could kill, he’d have been smote before Reggie Spark’s feet. “Come, the all-powerful Broderick Killoran knows all.” She dropped her palms on the table and leaned forward, striking in her fury. “Surely you gathered how much I intend to offer for this place.”
Not what she’d negotiated. Not the price settled on between her and the previous owner.
But rather, how much she intended to offer . . . which spoke of a woman who had no intention of moving away from that payment amount. One who intended to go toe to toe with him despite his having secured the upper hand.
And through his outrage an appreciation flared.
“Three thousand pounds,” he murmured. “An impressive sum for any woman to amass. For anyone, really,” he added. “But especially so for a woman in a society that limits her opportunities and options.”
A low, throaty growl worked its way up Reggie’s throat. “I earned those monies.” She thumped the table with her fist. The folders and papers still littering the surface jumped from the force of that knock. “It was never charity.” Her cheeks went flush with a palpable anger that highlighted the lines of her high, prominent cheekbones.
Fearless.
She was fearless in every way. None dared go toe to toe with him. And Reggie, who’d been his right arm through the years, he’d expected at the very least remorse from. Never . . . this. This passion. This strength.
And through his earlier appreciation, Broderick felt something more.
Desire stirred . . . for Reggie Spark. Of course, his body had no appreciation for logic or the wrongness of that response to this woman who had served in his employ and who’d even now betrayed him. Rather, his was a primal response to the spirit that emanated from within her.
“How indignant you are,” he purred. Her thin eyebrows with their natural arch snapped together. Broderick held her gaze. “But if you believe I couldn’t have found someone to do precisely what you’ve done for significantly less payment, and with a good deal more loyalty than to make off with my best staff, you’re as naive as the day I brought you into the Killoran fold.”
Her body jerked like he’d run her through.
I will not feel bad . . . I will not feel bad . . . He knew she’d brought them to this moment. Even telling himself that, replaying the mantra and reminder in his mind, guilt sat low in his stomach. For everything that had come to light these past twenty-four hours, he’d shared more with this woman than he had anyone outside of his sisters.
“What do you intend?” she spat. “To stop me from purchasing this place?” He heard the worry there. It lent the faintest quake to the question that another might have missed. But he’d built his empire off gathering any hint of a person’s weakness.
Tilting back on the legs of his chair, Broderick rested his hands behind his head. He scoffed. “Of course not. What kind of monster do you take me for?”
Distrust remained sharp in her aquamarine eyes. “One who’d snoop about and buy this place out from under me.”
The minx didn’t miss a bloody beat.
He latched on to the former part of her charges. “You accuse me of snooping?” He chuckled. “That would imply you had been clandestine in your efforts.” He hardened his features, shedding the false veneer of amusement. “I taught you better than to be this careless.”
“Yes, you’re a master of treachery and deceit. Aren’t you?” she asked, her expression deadpan.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. How dare she turn this on him? How dare she play the offended, wronged party here? Broderick planted the legs of his chair back on the floor. “Careful,” he warned. “My tolerance for any insults from you was a great deal more considerable before I learned of your duplicity.”
“Duplicity?” she hissed. Reggie dropped her spindly elbows on the table, as she effectively framed her fury-reddened face. “You of all people would begrudge me having something of my own?”
“I would begrudge you stealing my staff and better rates for yourself,” he coolly returned, effectively quelling whatever words she’d intended to hurl next. “So let’s not have you play the offended party here.” Giving his lapels a tug, Broderick sat back in his chair. “Now, shall we resume our negotiations?”
“Negotiations?” she spat. “Is that what this is? You forget, I know you.” And she knew everything, including the greatest sin he’d shared with her less than a day ago. Under the table, he curled his hands. “This is nothing more than your usual show meant to intimidate me. To remind me of who holds the power.”
The problem with having confidantes is they know a person more than could ever be safe. It was why holding the trump card and wielding it with precision determined whether one thrived . . . or died.
And he’d no intention of caving. “Am I to take this to mean you don’t wish to continue with the purchase of this establishment?”
All the color faded from her cheeks until her tense ruby-red lips stood out stark amidst her pale face. “Go. On.”
“Splendid,” he said with false cheer. “Let us proceed.” Broderick fished through the legal documents. His skin prickled with the heat of her stare on his every movement. “Let us first begin with the new terms of the arrangement.” Finding the page he’d sought, Broderick slid it wordlessly across the table.
Not making any attempt to pick it up, Reggie glanced down at it and then back to him. “What is this?” she asked bluntly.
“It is a number.”
She ground her teeth with a ferocity that was sure to give her a headache. “I see that. What is the . . . ?” Reggie gasped, and she caught the end of that sound of shock behind her palm, stifling the remainder. “You intend to charge me double?” she choked out, her gloved hand muffling that query. “And for this place.”