"I'm busy," I snapped at Volkov. My fingers curled into fists by my sides.

Volkov urgently waved his hand, and Mei stepped forward to give him something small and black. Volkov in turn extended his hand, dark freckles speckling the alabaster skin, toward me. Cradled in his palm was a pager. "Your father had it delivered today."

Reluctantly, I reached across and plucked the pager from his palm, turning it between my fingers, and scowled. My father's phone number flashed across its narrow screen demanding I phone him back. "It's defective," I replied, glancing up and raising a lonely eyebrow.

Volkov squinted, perplexed, his gaze lowering to the brand-new pager. "No, it seems to be in good working—"

Before he got to finish his sentence I dropped the pager to the ground. It struck with a hollow clack. I lifted my boot and stomped on it, relishing its destruction. Plastic split and cracked and popped as I continued to stomp and grind the pieces into the marble floor until it was a mess of flattened plastic and wires.

It was childish, but for a moment it felt glorious. It was as if I was stomping all over the Contract of Negotiations and the hope my father had that a union with the Szarvases would raise us to an Upper House.

"It's defective," I ground out, settling a hand on my hip, my other hand wrapping around the leather bandoleer strapped across my chest.

Mei clapped a hand to her chest as she stared downward at the destruction strewn across the marble floor. Her eyes widened until most of the whites were showing around the irises.

Volkov glanced briefly at the smashed mess of the pager and swallowed thickly. "Ah yes, I see," he murmured quietly.

But I wasn't done with Volkov. I didn't care much for him. I didn't like his passive-aggressive attitude with my girlfriend, nor did I like seeing Mei shrink under his cold glare as he tipped up his chin, silently ordering her to pick up the broken pager. As Head Housekeeper, he sucked ass. So I'd made it my business to make him squirm.

Before Mei could, I bent down and scooped the pager up. It dangled between my fingers in a string of wires barely holding onto the smashed outer shell. I handed it to Volkov. "Send it back to my father, personally, would you?"

His jaw clenched and eyes darkened at being treated less than his fancy position. But he dipped his head politely. "Certainly, Mr. Crowther."

He made to leave, but I stopped him once more. "Oh, and Volkov, I'm a little peckish, so can you bring a bowl of raw peanuts to my quarters."

"Yes, Mr. Crowther, of course."

He turned to Mei and I knew he was going to ask her to do it. "Miss Purcell—"

I tut-tutted him, stopping him from finishing his order. Surely by now, he knew that he was firmly in my crosshairs? A muscle twitched in his jaw as he glanced my way, unable to stop himself from bristling.

"Nah," I said, shifting forward a few steps, my boots crunching on shards of plastic. "You bring it to me, Volkov." I kept my eyes on the other man but I spoke to Mei. "You look tired, Mei, why don't you head home for the day."

Mei sucked in a sharp breath, glancing between us both, looking like a frightened rabbit.

Volkov's nostrils flared and he took a step closer. "Miss Purcell hasn't finished her—"

"Miss Purcell looks like she's dead on her feet," I cut him off, practically snarling. "And since I'm..." I shifted my weight to one hip and rubbed the tips of my fingers beneath my chin, pretending to think about it, "... a guest at the Deniauds',"—and a fucking heir—"and Miss Purcell saved my life, I figure she can at least take off work early for a few hours." And then I amended it. "For the rest of the month."

He blinked, astounded.

"Besides," I said, clapping him on the shoulder so hard he rocked off balance, "you do such a good job tending to my every need." This wasn't the first time I'd asked for him to bring me a bowl of peanuts. I didn't actually like them, but it was fun to think of him bitterly sweating it out over doing menial work. "And can you de-shell them like last time and this time make sure you peel all the skins off them too." I leaned down so we were at eye level and tapped a front tooth with a fingertip. "I fucking hate having their skins caught between my teeth."

He nodded with a tight-lipped smile, then turned away, hurrying down the hallway before I could think of any more ridiculousness to get him to do.

I winked at Mei, who shot back a delightful grin. She clapped her hands together, bouncing up and down on the balls of her tired feet as she mouthed—Thank you, Mr. Crowther— before spinning around to scurry home.

When I next dared to dart a furtive glance toward the Servants' Quarters, Tabitha was gone. I heaved a quiet sigh of longing, and then I carried on straight ahead, leaving the entrance to the Servants' Quarters behind, unable to stop marking the differences between our two worlds. Pretentious artwork lined the walls and expensive flooring was underfoot. The lighting in the Deniauds' was more golden and luxurious, while the servants with their utilitarian bulbs, shabby bare walls, and scuffed lino were colorless and dreary.

When I eventually took over as Head of my House there were going to be many changes to the way we treated our servants. Or staff, as Tabitha likened them to. She was right, it did sound more inclusive as if we were part of the same team.

I turned away from the Servants' Quarters and began walking deeper into the mansion along a quiet and empty hallway. I still couldn't shake the threat of the union with Irma Szarvas from my mind. It sat there like a spider in the corner, watching with its beady eyes, waiting to strike. Despite what Valarie had shared with me last week, obviously, Mamãe hadn't been able to convince my father to call off the negotiations.

Suddenly a door swung open, spinning me out of my dark thoughts.

Delicate fingers latched around my wrist. I was jerked sideways and tugged into a small room. The door shut swiftly and I was thrust into a pitch-black world. The smell of fur and leather and silk coiled through the stale air...and wild roses.

My sight quickly adjusted to the inky darkness.

And right in front of me was Tabitha Catt.

The instant my gaze drank her in, an electrical sensation zapped my heart—BOOM!

This time I rode the crazy ride of skittishness as my mouth curled up into a stupid grin.

Seeing Tabitha standing before me got me fucking excited. I mean, I'd kept to myself, never overly staring or speaking to her, ensuring that no one would suspect we were even aware of one another's existence. But she'd been the one to drag me into the coat room. I was all for messing about in unusual places. The fear of being caught out drove adrenalin to pump through the blood which heightened the climax, as we'd both experienced with the orgasm-war in the glassware cupboard. I started trying to calculate how many closets and cupboards and utility rooms the mansion had. Maybe we could make a game of this? How long would it take to kiss our way through every single one? Maybe...more than kiss?

Tabitha leaned to the side and flipped a switch and the overhead bulb lit up with a wishy-washy glow, casting us both in a dim light. Her mouth began to part as if readying to speak but I got there first and whisper-hissed, "Uniform off now!"

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"You heard me—undo those buttons and strip." I stepped around her, checking out how much space I had to play with. The narrow space was lined with racks of expensive cloaks and jackets and raincoats. I could make this work. My eyes slid sidelong to hers and I added quietly, "Leave the shoes on."

Her head tilted slowly to the side, her limp ponytail swaying out with the motion. "You want to get me naked?"

I tsked, rounding to face her fully. "You won't be naked. You'll be wearing the shoes."

She glanced down at her fuck ugly shoes and then back up to me, raising her golden eyebrows and staring back as if she couldn't quite wrap her mind around me.

A soft whirring came from my armored jacket as I pulled the zipper down the metal track. Reaching inside, I pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper I'd scribbled all over last night while she was out stargazing and I was in Chateaux Crappo, bored as fuck and trying to shove back the threat of this coming weekend.

I flicked the paper open and pointed to No. 22.

Tabitha leaned closer, squinting to read it better. She jerked back, her mouth fell open, and her astonished gaze slashed to mine. "You have a list?"

"Yes," I replied, somewhat offended. "You've got one too, why can't I? Though my list is all about you. And yours is rather suspect in my opinion."

She clapped a hand to her mouth, body shaking with her muffled laugh.

"I want to cross Number Twenty-Two off." I snapped my fingers to hurry her up. We probably didn't have too much time before she needed to leave to get ready for the party tonight. "Naked, tabby cat, but for the weird shoes." The coathangers made a screeching sound as I shoved the jackets and coats to each side to create space for her. The metal railing was cold beneath my palm as I slapped it several times. "Grab hold of this so you don't fall over while I suck on your clit and fuck you with my fingers."

Tabitha's jaw practically unhinged. "Are you insane? I didn't bring you in here for that."

Frowning, I took a step back, the cresting excitement dashed to smithereens. "Well, what did you drag me in here for?"

"Since you went ahead and bullied your way into our Stag Party, I wanted to talk to you so you were clear about the rules for tonight."

I mock-yawned, patting my open mouth.

Tabitha couldn't help herself. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, the sunshine flecks glittering in the dingy light. Her rosy mouth twitched with a smile she tried to suppress.

Pouting, my bottom lip poked out. "Can't you tell me what's so important while I get you off?"

"No," she whisper-hissed, scowling, one hand molding itself around the end of her wooden spoon.

I made a mental note to add 'sex-play' with that wooden spoon of hers to my list. Frankly, it disturbed me that I hadn't thought to include it earlier than this moment.

With a stern glare, she shoved a finger in my face. "Tonight, while we're in the company of my friends, you don't know me." She added one finger at a time as she counted off her list of requirements. "No speaking to me. No sitting next to me. No trying to dance with me. No overstaring."

I advanced with a dark look, and she gasped with unease as I backed her up into the row of waterproof jackets. They rattled on the railing as her back hit their edges. The cords in her graceful throat tightened as she swallowed. Her eyelids lowered, heavy with desire when I dragged my hand up her side. I noted her pocket was bulged as I skimmed my palm up her soft curves. I didn't think anything of it, more than likely some kind of cleaning bits and pieces for my girl who had high expectations as a Between Maid.

My hand roamed upward to cup the back of her neck and angle her face toward me as I leaned down. I breathed the words against her lips, staring deep into those intense sea green eyes. "Overstaring? Isn't that your thing? You can't keep your eyes off of me."

Her eyes flared wide, scanning mine. "Your ego is enormous. I'm surprised you're not floating away with all that helium of self-perceived sexuality inflating it," she breathed. She then made that ugh sound of hers, which vibrated against my mouth and sent a shiver of want racing down my spine. "I'm looking around you—not at you. I'm checking the space you're standing in for all sorts of things—like making sure an ornament isn't out of place or that it's been dusted properly."

It was weak and flimsy as milk-saturated cornflakes.

"Little liar," I whispered, sweeping my lips sideways to kiss the corner of her sweet mouth. "Don't worry about tonight. I won't overstare. No one will know we're together. But you've got to give me at least one dance." The next words left my mouth quickly to appease her strict rules. "Some time and somewhere that none of your friends will know about." There were plenty of dark corners in the club in which to lose ourselves.

"Okay," she whispered back.

I pulled back, my eyebrows pinched together. Well, that was easy. Surprisingly easy for Little Miss Worried-someone-might-find-out-her-boyfriend's-an-heir.

"There's a secluded area on the rooftop of the Monarch Towers that should be empty this time of year," she said, looping her hands around the nape of my neck and feathering her fingers through my hair. She liked playing with the short locks whenever we made out, and I fucking adored her doing it too.

"It's on the roof," I stated, surprised, because Tabitha had a deep fear of heights.

"I know." Her fingers tightened in my hair as she looked downward so her lashes grazed her cheeks. "There's no way,"—a pause— "that I'll be going near the ledge. But from what I've heard from Marissa, it's private and quiet, and I doubt very much Oswin and his friends will go up there. They'll be too busy dancing at the club." While my other hand wrapped around her waist, tugging her body gently closer to mine, she slid her fingers along my smooth jaw, following the brushstroke with her gaze. "So we could go there and be alone without anyone finding us out."

I noticed for the first time the purplish smudges beneath her eyes, how her summer glow wasn't as radiant as it usually was. She looked worn out. I stroked my thumb along her temple, pushing aside the limp hanks of hair that had come free from her ponytail. "You didn't meet me this morning. Are you okay?"

Her pupils flared and her gaze sharpened. An emotion I couldn't decipher swept across her features. She chewed on the corner of her mouth, looking like she was going to say or ask something, I wasn't sure.

Ask her about the krekenns, you fool!

But then she suddenly brightened, casting off the dark emotion like a shadowed cloak. Her nose wrinkled as she sighed. "I'm sorry. It's been really hectic leading up to the wedding. But I'll see you tonight and tomorrow morning."

Unease slithered around my bones.

She wanted me to eat up her lies like they were the truth.

I knew something was bothering her, worrying her. Maybe it was the wedding, but maybe it was something else altogether. Instead, I decided to give her until after the wedding. When all the stress was over, I'd find a way to get her to open up to me.

Bowing my head, my damp hair glanced over her cheek as I kissed her swan-like throat just above the crisp white collar of her uniform, feeling goosebumps and heat blossom over her skin. My fingers flexed as a shudder ran through her body, and I hardened at the sultry moan leaving her lips and the way she arched into my touch. "We're still on for the evening after the wedding?" That was the night I was supposed to be joining my family at House Szarvas, however, I wasn't going to be attending. I'd be far, far away from the nest of coiled asps of Crowthers and Szarvases. I was going to be somewhere else with Tabitha.

She hummed a, yes, before asking, "Where are we going?"

I'd been mulling over where I'd take her. I really wanted to show her off and take her to dinner at a restaurant. There were a few on the outskirts of Ascendria I thought she might like. But really I didn't give a fuck if I was sitting down to a five-star entrée or sitting on a park bench with fish and fries wrapped up in newspaper, as long as I was with her.

I scraped my teeth upwards to gently nip her ear. "Your choice. Whatever and wherever you want to go."

"Okay, okay, okay..." she repeated breathlessly, conforming her body to mine.

With a low growl, I hunted her lips and she yielded completely, opening up her pouty mouth. My tongue swept inside to tangle with hers, swallowing down her greedy groan, my name too. I licked and claimed, raked her bottom lip with my teeth, before sucking on her tongue just the way she liked, until it drove her insane and had her hips grinding against mine, her hands clawing through my hair.

I kissed her until both of us were breathless and moaning.

It wasn't me who pulled away first, it was her.

Tabitha ran a trembling hand above green eyes that shone like a glassy lake. She sucked in a breath, swaying slightly in my arms as she blinked, shaking away the erotic daze. "I have to get going, I'll see you tonight," she kiss-drunkenly slurred.

Leaving my arms, she tip-toed to the door.

My boots made a squeaking sound on the floor as I swiveled around to brace a hand on the metal railing while running my other hand across my kiss-swollen lips, still trying to catch my breath, a little dazed myself. Tabitha pressed an ear to the door, listening, before easing it open a crack. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the door and she turned back to me to whisper with a grimace, "Don't make fun of my dress tonight, okay?"

A laugh huffed from my throat. "Another haute couture number by your aunt?"

She nodded, lifting a shoulder. "She can't help herself. She loves making outfits for me to wear." Her gaze drifted to where her fingers clenched the edge of the wood so tightly her knuckles turned white, and said quietly, "Always has."

Her gaze cut to mine and she flashed a quick smile. "Stay here for a bit until I'm gone."

"Sure thing, Miss Catt," I grinned, tipping up a hand.

She slunk out, disappearing completely as the door shut behind her.

And my grin fell off my face.

An unsettled feeling plucked a discordant note along my veins. There'd been something else lurking beneath Tabitha's kiss. Guilt. Desperation. And worry.