Trillian glanced at me.

I nodded. “I’d like a glass of water, please.”

“Would you prefer wine?” he asked. I shook my head and the girl moved off to place our order.

“All right,” I said after a moment. “I’m having lunch with you. Tell me what you know of Roche.”

He gazed at me for a moment, not speaking, then softly said, “And so swiftly she veers to the contract.”

“It’s just…I need to know about him,” I said, suddenly feeling rude. He’d been nothing but a gentleman so far. Since I was using him to get to Roche, the least I could do was extend a hand in peace. “I’m sorry. This is so very important. I have to catch this man.”

Trillian rested his elbows on the table, leaning toward me. “I assume you work for the YIA. You don’t have the look, but I recognize the harried expression. Don’t worry—” he said, fending off my protest. “I’m not asking you to answer, just speculating.”

I let out a long sigh. “You speculate right. And my neck is on the line if I don’t bring in this guy. My boss is doing everything he can to prevent me from succeeding.” Suddenly, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care who heard me, or whether it cost me my job. I was tired of fighting, tired of being the scapegoat.

Trillian cocked his head to the side and slid his hands across the table, gently taking hold of mine. The feel of his skin against mine sparked like oil on flame. My nipples pressed against the lace of my bustier, the material suddenly feeling harsh and arousing. The spark traced a fuse that led down through my stomach to settle between my thighs.

His fingers, so dark against mine, were like coffee on cream, soft and velvety smooth. He slowly turned my palm face-up and rubbed the tip of one index finger against the cup of my hand, tracing the lines that creased my flesh. Every touch unsettled me. I clenched my thighs together, trying to hide my arousal, but I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

“Your supervisor seeks to fail you because you are de’estial?” Again, the silken voice.

I raised my eyes to meet his. He’d used the Sidhe term for a phrase that meant “walker of two paths,” but I knew he was talking about my heritage. But usually, the word de’estial was given as an honor, not used when referring to a half-breed like myself. I searched his face, but there was no hint of repulsion, no sign that he looked down on me because of my human heritage.

Slowly, I nodded. “That, and he wants to sleep with me, and I won’t comply.”

Trillian pursed his lips, but a ripple of laughter broke free. “I can understand why he would want you,” he said. “But a real man never forces a woman, even when he has the opportunity. Even when he has the power to enslave her against his will.” He stood and leaned over the table, his face mere inches from mine. “There is no pleasure in a hollow victory, is there?”

Mesmerized, I shook my head. All of Jahn’s warnings were screaming at me, along with my father’s worries, but I swept them aside. Svartan he might be, but I could sense when people lied to me. And Trillian wasn’t lying. Maybe he was prettying up his words, but outright deceit? No, I’d bet my paycheck that he meant what he said.

I realized I was clutching his hands now, holding them tight. Another glance into his eyes told me he was aware of my hunger. I slowly let go, forcing myself to sit back in the booth as I tried to catch my breath.

The serving girl brought our meals and Trillian paid her.

“Eat. I’m starving.” He handed me the bread. I tore off a chunk and then pushed the rest across the table. “So you are looking for this man Roche. You work for the YIA. He’s a fugitive?”

Grateful for the change in subject, I nodded. “Yes, he’s sadistic, a rapist and murderer. My job is to catch him, but none of the leads panned out. I can only hope this perv stumbles across my path. That is, unless I can come up with some clues on my own. Ones I know aren’t fabricated.”

“Perv?” Trillian looked confused.

“Pervert. Twisted—in a bad way. It’s an Earthside term. My mother was human.” I stopped buttering the piece of bread I was holding.

“Was, as in she’s dead?”

“She died when my sisters and I were young. She fell off a horse and broke her neck. I miss her.”

Surprised, I felt tears well up. Every now and then, the memory of her death hit me in just the wrong way, but I was usually alone and locked in my room when it happened. Delilah and Menolly counted on me to be the strong one. I’d taken over when Mother died, and now I was mistress of the household. It was my duty to remain the anchor and support.

I tried to swallow my sadness, but one tear broke free and traced its way down my cheek. I started to look away, but his hand was suddenly cupping my chin and his eyes were surprisingly gentle as he once again leaned across the table and gently kissed the tear away. He didn’t try to kiss me on the mouth, but settled back into his seat.

“Some hurts can never be mended,” he said. “No matter how much time passes. They tattoo themselves on our souls.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so merely bit into my food. The beef was rich and juicy, the potatoes a savory burst of flavor in my mouth.

“As I told you back in the bar, last night I saw the man you are seeking. He was in the marketplace, at the gambler’s tent.” Trillian took a sip of his water, then buttered another piece of bread. “He was involved in a game of q’aresh. He’ll be back there tonight.”

“What makes you think so?” I asked.

“He lost a great deal of money and became extremely vocal. He wanted a young girl that the marketer was offering as part of the wager. Your quarry appears to be on the obsessive side. The dealer told him to return when he could afford a rematch. Roche said he’d return this evening. I’m guessing he’ll show up to see if the girl’s still there.” Trillian pushed aside his plate. “So tonight, we’ll go see if we can catch ourselves a murderer.”

I stared at him. “We’ll go? Why would you want to go with me? This could be dangerous, and you have nothing to gain.”

Trillian slid out of the booth and held out his hand. “I’ll go with you because you need help. I’ll go with you because I detest men who refuse to acknowledge the value of women. I’ll help you because men who rape children and get their rocks off on hurting innocent women deserve to die.”

As I listened to that velvet voice, the arrogance and sardonic façade fell away and I saw the man behind the mask. Beneath his jaded exterior, Trillian was a man who loved women. Who didn’t count them by their heritage or status. He was dangerous and cruel, but only to those who gave him a reason to fight.

I placed my hands on his shoulders, feeling the well-toned biceps that were hidden beneath the meticulous tunic.

Trillian waited, his luminous blue eyes gazing down into my own dark ones. The invitation was there—unspoken, but there.

As I raised up on the tips of my toes, pressing my lips against his, he wrapped his arms around me and I surrendered myself to his embrace.