Faye's POV
The instant the door clicked shut behind us, I whirled around to face him. The dining hall felt like a distant memory now, replaced by the oppressive quiet of this guest chamber.
"Why didn't you warn them?" The words tore from my throat before I could stop them. My chest heaved as I struggled to control my breathing. "Those men who ate with us. You could have said something."
Hardy moved with that infuriating calm of his, striding toward the window table as if we'd just finished discussing the weather. He shrugged off his dark cloak and draped it over a chair back with casual indifference. The slight curve of his lips suggested he found my distress amusing.
That expression made my blood simmer.
I remained planted by the door, every muscle in my body coiled tight, watching as he reached for the crystal decanter and poured himself water. He took a leisurely sip, then angled his body toward me, that maddening half-smile still playing at his mouth.
