Page 2 of Apprentice to the Villain

He trained his eyes on the candlewax on his desk. “Your education was not listed on your résumé.”

She was too casual in her response. “I had to leave after my mother disappeared. My father had his business, and someone needed to stay home with my little sister.”

Don’t press. It matters not.

“How old were you?” he asked.Damn it.

He heard the papers in her hands rustle. She must have been gripping them firmly. “Thirteen.”

His chest went tight.

Kingsley had another sign up now, clearly meant for him. The frog swung it in front of his face.Ass.

“Sage, I—” He halted his words. An apology tipped againsthis tongue.An apology?The Villain didn’tapologize.The mere urge to do so stunned him so much, he closed his lips.

Her surname hung awkwardly in the air between them. He crumpled up a letter and threw it in the waste bin so he wouldn’t look at her, but of course he ended up looking anyway.

A horrified mien had overtaken her cheery facade. Her horror turned sheepish when she caught his uncomfortable stare. “Oh— Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t usually talk this much.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t true. In the last seven days alone, he’d heard the little liability speak more than any other human being of his acquaintance…and he alarmingly could recall every word.

“I think you are lying.” He said it gruffly, not kindly.

“Oh, I am,” she deadpanned and then promptly giggled. “About the talking, anyway, but Iamsorry.”

There was that sunny ease she possessed. So quick to apologize. She made it look so simple. “It’s fine,” he grunted.

She brightened, and he blinked. Did he do that?

“I must be growing comfortable with you,” she observed. My gods, the woman was like the sun. He needed tinted glasses just to look at her.

He squinted and frowned. “Well, comfort is unacceptable in this office. Perhaps now youshouldapologize.”

She bit her lip, but the curve upward came through anyway. Her head turned back toward the window, toward the brightest star gleaming through it. Wistful.

Too much to bear. He needed her out of here. Now.

Before he could scare her off, though, she looked back to him, her cheeks blushing a rosy hue. Her small fingers loosened on the papers in her hands as she said with the most open sincerity, “I’m sorry. But it’s true. This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

He muttered a curse under his breath. It had felt like a blow, so harsh he was almost knocked backward. He pulled at his collarso he wouldn’t choke.

The mystery feeling that appeared after every test he’d given her, after she smiled through them, finally revealed itself. Relief.

His heart pounded, signaling the danger in the emotion, but he sucked in a breath anyway and replied, “I’m…pleased to hear it.” He stood, taking the papers from her hands. She released them readily. “You’re dismissed for the day, Sage. I think I’ve tortured you enough.”

Her eyes flashed to his office doors as she stood, too, placing a hand against her hip and lifting a brow. “I don’t think the men downstairs in the dungeons would agree, sir.”

He choked and hit his chest to smother the laugh, the urge shocking him. Instead, he flattened his lips into a firm line. “Unless you’d like to join them, I suggest you take your leave.”

She scrunched her nose once more before making her way toward the door, but she stopped again to look out the window, something drawing her to the pearly gleams up in the sky reflected in her eyes.

He couldn’t help it; he didn’t know why. But he had to know.

“What did you wish for?” His words came out in a raspy whisper.

She faced him fully as she slowly backed all the way to the door, reaching behind her and gripping the handle. There was a soft look on her face that made his bones feel like jelly. “I’ll let you know when it comes true.”

The door closed gently behind her, and the stars glimmered once more in the corner of his eye. He scoffed at them and moved swiftly to his desk, digging in the top drawer for a caller’s ruby. Wishes. Ridiculous.