The townhouse stood out like a beacon. I hadn’t a clue if Rían was actually renting it or if he would be home. But if I found the bastard, I would give him a piece of my mind.
When I reached the blue door, I pounded it with my fist, pretending it was his face. A moment later, it opened, and Rían—posing as Lady Marissa—dragged me inside by the elbow.
Ornate patchwork tiles in the hallway gleamed beneath my boots. The place smelled of fresh plaster and paint. Above our heads, a small chandelier cast glittering rainbows against the white walls.
“You’re here.” With a flick of his wrist, he was back to his evil self, in a black shirt and fitted trousers. “Why are you here?” His eyes narrowed. “And you’re angry. Why are you angry? Did something happen?”
He could take his false concern and choke on it. “You happened you . . . you . . . you cad.”
His brows flicked up. “I’m a cad, am I?”
“You are worse than a cad. You’re a fiend—and a villain.”
The corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly. “Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment!”
“Maybe not to you.” He threw an arm around the mahogany newel post. “Out of curiosity, what have I done to earn such scathing insults?”
Damn it all, the smile playing on his lips made me want to smack him. And he’d probably like it. “I tried to tell my sister about our bargain, and it felt like nails were being driven into my skull.”
“Ah. That.” His shiny black boots tapped against the tiles as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “A simple binding spell to ensure you kept your promise.”
I had promised not to tell her, but I hadn’t meant it. “I was lying.”
Gasping in mock horror, his hand flew to his chest. “You werelying? I am shocked and offended.”
“Oh, shove off.”
“I must admit, I like angry Aveen. She’s quite entertaining.”
I’d show him entertaining. My hands clenched into fists. “Remove the spell.”
“Ah . . . No.” He turned and started for the first room off the hallway. A small parlor with blue striped wallpaper, a fireplace, and damask curtains.
That was it.
No furniture, no rugs, no knickknacks.
Then Rían flicked his wrist.
Two chairs appeared, separated by a low coffee table. “Would you like some tea?” he threw over his shoulder.
“I’m not staying for tea. I just want you to get rid of the bloody spell.”
He eased himself onto the blue velvet chair. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m afraid the spell remains.”
A silver tea set appeared. He poured one cup, then another, setting the first in front of the empty chair.
A chair that looked very familiar. “Is that . . .”Bloody Rían. “That’s my chair from my bedroom.”
“Is it?”
I stomped over to check the back. Sure enough, I found a small burn mark at the bottom from the time I’d moved it too close to the fire. “You can’t do that. You can’t just take whatever you want.”
“It’s a gray area.” He lifted the lid from one of the small silver cups on the tray. “Sugar?”
“Two please—I mean, no. I don’t want sugar because I don’t want tea.” Even so, I plopped onto my chair. Who stole a person’s chair? Who did that?