Heiress for Hire - Madeline Hunter Page 0,33

on her guard as much as announced she felt it too.

“Of course, I am still considering you a likely culprit. Better you than me. My question was more generous than that, however. I am truly curious how a man like you, the nephew of a duke, reconciles taking such a step. Gentlemen do not seek employment.”

He normally avoided the reflection that an honest answer would require. Right now, however, flattered by this deeper interest she showed, and beset by a desire that made his blood spark, he found himself looking inward. A hard cock can make a man do many foolish things.

“I am of two minds,” he admitted. “The gentleman tells himself he is no more in trade than a physician or a barrister, both acceptable endeavors. Even more acceptable, since I can claim my inquiries are favors to friends, or an avocation.”

“And the other mind?”

“The soldier is grateful for something to do other than gamble and drink. I suppose I could occupy my time investigating some obscure ruin and writing its history, as some do to fill their days, but I prefer more interesting searches.”

“I think your second mind is the one that matters most. You do not really need this employment, after all. You could cease it anytime you chose.”

“You sound sure of that, when possibly only my next inquiry will keep me from being out on the street.”

“Nonsense. You spoke of portions from your grandmother. Your father received one like the other uncles. And you do not have to share what is left with a brother or sister, since you have no siblings.”

“How do you know that?”

She laughed lightly. “Little about your family tree is not known to the servants who worked in that house the last few days. A bit here, a bit there, and a total picture comes together. I daresay that if I were willing to visit the others who left today as I did, I could have learned most of what transpired at that meeting without your visiting to tell me.”

He watched how the low fire sent golden patterns across her form. “Yet you had me visit anyway.”

That caught her up short with a smile half formed. He took the pause as an opportunity to move over to the divan and sit beside her, turned in so he could watch those patterns more closely.

She scooted away a few inches. “I allowed you to visit because learning about the meeting from you was more efficient.”

“Is that what this is? Efficiency? It is not a word I would use to describe the mood in this chamber tonight. Or the last time.”

Flustered now. Charmingly so, mostly because she never showed anything but self-possession. “I cannot trust you,” she murmured, to herself more than him.

“You do not have to trust me yet. You only have to kiss me.”

“You came to my house looking for evidence I killed the duke. I could never want to kiss you.”

“And yet I think you do.”

“You don’t even deny your dangerous suspicions.”

“I will explain all that in a moment.” He leaned in, noticing how deeply dark her eyes looked in the low light. “Later.” He touched his lips to hers, ignoring the inner voice warning of impossible complications.

She did not veer back, but allowed it. It entered his mind that she was too stunned to resist, but the softness of her lips and the warmth of their closeness diverted his attention from that idea. He lingered in the kiss, and when she still did not object, he gathered her toward him and into an embrace.

* * *

She waited for the sad, dull emotions that ruled her whenever she seriously considered intimacy with a man. They did not come. Instead his kiss enlivened her. She dared not move lest she ruin it. She wanted to both laugh and weep at the irony that this man could evoke excitement with his embrace instead of loathing.

It would not last, of course. It couldn’t. For a moment, however, she allowed herself to pretend that she did trust him. She ignored all the warnings her mind tried to shout, and permitted her body to respond if it could.

A quiet bedazzlement that she had known long ago sparkled in her blood, far better than what she experienced in those recent dreams. The girlhood she had lost in every way possible raised one hand above the dank waters that submerged it. Her spirit took hold of that hand and held tight so it would not disappear again.

That meant letting

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