She had learned through painful experience that to lose control was a certain invitation to disaster.
"Unlike Mayfair, however, this neighborhood can be quite dangerous as well."
His dimples suddenly flashed. "Surely, my dear, you do not suppose Mayfair to be without its dangers? Just imagine . . . marriage-mad mamas, overdressed fops fragrant with the stench of rose-water, and a prince who insists upon keeping his chambers as smothering hot as the netherworld. It is enough to terrify the stoutest of hearts." He lifted one broad shoulder. "I should be able to hold my own against a handful of thieves and street urchins."
There was no reasonable argument to refute his confident words. Although he cloaked himself in a lazy charm, there was no mistaking the fluid power of his male form or the hint of ruthless will that was etched upon the lean features.
Only a fool would underestimate the danger of Mr. Lucien Valin. And Jocelyn was no fool.
"If you say," she reluctantly conceded.
"Is there anything else?"
"There are my rules, of course," she swiftly countered, not at all surprised when his lips curled in open amusement.
"Of course."
"This is not a lodging house. I live very quietly. I will not countenance loud gatherings or drunken carousing."
A tawny brow flicked upward. "I am allowed no callers?"
"Only if they are discreet."
For some reason her cool response only deepened his amusement. "Ah."
That unwelcome shiver once again inched down her spine, and Jocelyn discovered herself battling back the words to order this Mr. Valin from her house.
She did not have the luxury of turning away a perfectly suitable tenant just because of some vague fear.
"And the arrangement will be of a temporary nature," she instead retorted in an effort to reassure her faltering nerve. "No longer than two months."
"That suits me well enough."
It appeared everything suited the devil.
Jocelyn narrowed her gaze. "I also must insist that you respect my privacy. You are welcome to eat in the kitchen with Meg, but the remainder of the house is not to be entered."
There was a brief pause as he studied her carefully bland countenance. Then he gave a vague nod of his head.
"As you wish. Is that all?"
It was, of course.
She was charging him an outrageous sum of money for cramped rooms and meals he would be forced to eat in the servants' quarters.
She had also made impossible rules that would annoy the most even-tempered of gentlemen.
The mere fact that he had so readily agreed made her even more suspicious.
"Why are you here?" she demanded in abrupt tones.
His hands lowered as he regarded her with a bemused smile.
"I beg your pardon?"
Jocelyn deliberately allowed her gaze to drop to the deep burgundy coat cut by an obvious expert and white waistcoat stitched with silver thread. Her gaze continued over the hard, muscular thrust of his legs to linger upon the glossy Hessians that cost more than many families could earn in a year.
At last she raised her head to discover him regarding her in a curious fashion. "It is obvious that you are a gentleman of means, Mr. Valin. Why would you desire to take inferior rooms in a neighborhood most consider fit only for cutthroats and whores?"