A Dangerous Liaison - L.R. Olson Page 0,13

Where had she come from? Not a country lass. No. She was too quick. Too wary.

She tilted her chin high and met my gaze. “You want my body.”

I leaned against the fireplace mantel and took a deep drink. Just hearing the words from her lush lips sent a heated ache through me that I couldn’t deny. The alcohol didn’t numb the attraction. If anything, it made me all the more aware of how much I did want her. “How have you not yet found yourself a protector?”

“A protector?” She laughed. “Is that what you call it?”

“An owner, perhaps?” I said, amused by her bold tongue. I found myself eager to hear what she would say next. It was like fencing with a very good partner who always kept you on your toes. And that, I realized, was the true reason she’d intrigued me. Life had become boring. Predictable.

“More fitting.”

She had a way of speaking that seemed too refined for a scullery maid. In our short conversation she’d surprised me more than once, and I was rarely ever surprised. “Most mistresses lead their men around. I’ve seen many fall to their seduction.”

She shifted her bucket to her other hand. It was getting heavy, not that she would admit as much. She didn’t want to appear weak, was my guess. “But you wouldn’t, would you? You wouldn’t be led around by anyone.”

I finally allowed myself to smile. Perfect. She’d make a bloody perfect mistress. “No.”

“You would own me, my lord. I won’t have that.”

She turned to leave, her dark skirts flaring to show trim ankles. I stiffened, pushing away from the mantel. Hell, she was truly turning down my offer. “And so you’ll stay here? Work until you’re exhausted and haggard?”

“Yes,” she called over her shoulder, heading toward the door.

“Hell,” I muttered.

She’d made it to the hall. The woman was actually rejecting me. It had been years since someone had refused me anything. Instead of being annoyed, the more time I spent in her company, the more interested I became.

“What if I promised I wouldn’t touch you unless you desired it?”

She paused in the foyer, her back to me. “I believe men and women often have a different idea of what constitutes desire, my lord.”

Was that interest? “Very well. I swear on my life I will not be intimate with you unless you tell me you want me, in those exact words.”

Her shoulders were stiff. “I’m sorry, my lord, but no.”

“Do you not trust me, or do you not trust yourself?”

She didn’t respond, merely left. Just like that, she turned the corner and disappeared, leaving me standing there like a bloody idiot. It took a moment for me to realize our conversation had ended, by her own hands, no less.

Stunned, I couldn’t help but laugh.

For the first time in my life someone other than my parents had said no to me, and instead of having her tossed out onto her pretty arse, I was fascinated. I downed the rest of my drink. “My dear Miss Ginny, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

Chapter 3

Ginny

“Are you daft, a cheat, or both?”

Perhaps I’d over-reacted to the ridiculous amount she was charging for ginger, but I’d been uneasy for two weeks now. A lack of sleep and working twenty hours a day didn’t help. Ever since Gabe, whatever his surname might be, had made me the indecent offer, I hadn’t been able to rest my mind, despite my exhausted body.

I was angry he assumed I would accept. What sort of women did he think me to be? Angrier still that although I knew I would never consent, the moment he’d offered, I’d imagined him kissing me…and I’d liked it. If, in my imagination, that kiss had been so pleasant, what would it be like in reality? Ugh, wicked man indeed.

I started to pay, when a shiver of unease whispered down my spine. I glanced over my shoulder. Why did it feel as if someone watched me? The incident with Gabe had made me uneasy.

“Daft my arse,” the woman grumbled, forcing my attention back to her. “Ye think I don’t recognize you under that fancy bonnet? I ken you’re working for the big house now.”

Fancy bonnet? She acted as if I was draped in furs and diamonds, instead of a simple black dress and straw hat. My hands fisted, my body flushed with outrage. “So, you charge wealthy people more?”

She quirked a brow, daring me to argue.

“That’s…that’s brilliant,” I muttered, and just like that the

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