“So?” Apollo said. “His Grace is helping me.”
Edwin shrugged, looking shifty. “But is he, though?”
“What do you mean?” Lily frowned. “Do speak plainly, Edwin, please.”
“I’m trying to!” Oddly he looked wounded by his sister’s words. “The duke likes to collect information—things other people would rather keep hidden.”
“You’re saying he’s a blackmailer,” Apollo said.
Edwin grimaced. “Nothing that unrefined. More of a manipulator, perhaps. But it doesn’t do to let one’s secrets fall into his hands.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Apollo replied drily.
“I think you haven’t realized you’re already in his hands,” Edwin shot back. “He knows you’re an escaped murderer—” He held up his hands as Lily sputtered a protest. “Yes, all right, an accused escaped murderer. What reason does he have to help you when he has such a hold over you?”
“I have no money,” Apollo replied. “He had nothing to gain from me.”
“Don’t think that you have only monetary things to lose,” Edwin said. “Some things of value have no price.”
Apollo felt a bead of sweat run down his spine. Without taking his eyes from the other man, he instinctively held out his hand to Lily.
Lily clasped his fingers and stared at her brother, her face shuttered.
“I’m trying to warn you,” Edwin huffed and actually turned to Apollo for help.
Apollo raised one eyebrow at him.
“Very well.” Edwin drew himself up with martyred pride. “If you’re quite done with me?”
Apollo waved at the door, but made no move to step aside, making Edwin brush nervously against him as he went for it.
Edwin turned with his hand on the doorknob. “Lily, I…”
She waited, but when he said no more, she simply sighed. “Just go, Edwin.”
He nodded and opened the door.
The moment it was shut again, with only the two of them inside the little room, Apollo turned to Lily and looked at her with concern. “Who,” he asked softly, “is Lord Ross?”
THE THING WAS, Lily had never had to make this choice before. Indio had always—naturally—come first. Before Edwin, even before Maude, it was Indio she looked after, Indio she cared for. Because he was a child—her child—and therefore the most vulnerable.
But was that true anymore?
She tilted her head back, staring at Apollo. He wore the same suit as yesterday, but at some point this morning, he’d taken time to club his hair back.
Frankly, she preferred it the way it’d been last night—wild and about his shoulders.
He meant something to her. She couldn’t hide from that fact. She’d slept with Apollo—the first man she’d taken as a lover since before she’d become Indio’s mother. Even now, as he challenged her with soft words and sympathetic eyes, she was aware of his body. Of the breadth of his shoulders, the scent of his skin, so close in the little room. It wasn’t fair. She’d been so careful, so very wary, and he’d broken through her barriers without even trying—or so it seemed.
She folded her arms in front of her breasts, trying to keep some space between them. If she didn’t take care, he’d surround and overtake her, make her forget what mattered most and what was at stake.
Indio.
Indio was vulnerable. She must protect him.
And like that the decision was made.
She looked at him. “Richard Perry, Lord Ross is a wealthy gentleman—an aristocrat like you.”