The Devil of Downtown - Joanna Shupe Page 0,19

He hadn’t meant to run the do-gooder off, not until they were finished.

I’ll make you regret it.

Was she threatening him? Him? Christ, the idea of it had his balls twitching in excitement.

The entire city believed this woman was filled with pure goodness, not an evil bone in her body. Yet, she vexed Jack at every turn. A sharp tongue and blistering reprimands lurked behind those boring dresses and high necklines.

The do-gooder had a mean streak. And he loved it.

Perhaps this was the real Justine, after all. He might have been the only man alive to get a glimpse of the steel beneath the fluff. He wanted more. He wanted to know how deep that steel ran. Did it go all the way to her core? Would she bite his lip if they kissed? In bed, would she dig her nails into his skin, scoring his back with evidence of her pleasure?

He caught up and blocked her advance. “Please, stop. I need to speak to you.”

She pressed her lips together and folded her hands. Waited. Those dark brown eyes stared at him as if he were an annoyance. A bother she merely tolerated.

He got right to the point. “I wish to collect on my favor.”

That gained her attention. Her face slackened, her mouth opening slightly. “Now you bring this up? Why did you not tell me this at police headquarters or over our interminable lunch?”

Because she would’ve heard him out and disappeared. Instead, he’d wanted to drag out their encounter. Never mind the reasons why. “That is immaterial. Would you care to hear what I require of you?”

“Yes, with the caveat that I may refuse.”

Not a chance. No one reneged on Jack Mulligan.

“Then get in.” He gestured to the brougham at the curb, with Rye in the driver’s seat.

“No. Tell me here.”

So stubborn. He almost admired her for it. “No. This is too public for my tastes. I prefer to have my conversations away from those who might be listening.”

She glanced at the brougham, examining it for a long moment. Jack couldn’t fathom what she hoped to see.

“No tricks,” he said. “I merely wish for a private conversation while I give you a ride downtown. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Her head swiveled sharply, her face taut. “I am hardly worried about that. You’ve made it abundantly clear I am not your type.”

“And you believe I am puddle scum, as I recall. So, I think we are both safe for the short journey.”

“Fine, but you still owe me the ride even if I refuse your request.”

Hardly a request, but he didn’t bother to point that out. He could allow her to believe she had the upper hand. For now.

They ascended into the carriage, which provided a bit of shade to cut the city heat. Rye wasted no time in flicking the reins and getting them moving along the street. A slight breeze filtered through the conveyance. Justine located a fan on her person and began using it to cool herself. “Well?”

Removing his derby, Jack withdrew a silk handkerchief from his pocket and dotted the sweat on his brow. “I understand the legal aid society is hosting a large fundraiser at the Metropolitan Opera House.”

Her hand stilled, the fan hanging in the air, useless, as she shifted to face him. “And?”

“I’d like to escort you.”

“I . . . What?”

“Me, your escort. At the event.”

“You wish to attend the fundraiser?”

“Yes.”

She blinked a few times, her lovely face registering a myriad of emotions. “I don’t understand. This is a society event. You’re not the usual guest.”

“I understand. However, I need to be there. I’m even prepared to make a large donation to the legal aid society, as well.” He knew their legal aid society lived and died by donations. Money kept an organization like that afloat and it took a lot of dough. From what he’d heard, funding was always tight.

“How large?”

He smothered a smile. Of course the do-gooder would ask such a question. “I was thinking five thousand.”

“Fifty.”

Air hissed through his teeth. “That’s extortion. You owe me, remember?”

“My repayment is allowing you to escort me. That alone will cause nothing short of a riot. In fact, my family will likely disown me. Therefore, if you want me to go along with it, then you need to give the legal aid society fifty thousand dollars.”

He could tell by the smug expression on her face that she thought this stipulation would shut down the conversation. That the amount was far too high for him and

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