Noble Scoundrel - Amy Sandas Page 0,31
Her stern eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. “Do not presume to know my mind.”
With a tilt of his head, he offered a roguish grin. “You’ll admit to wanting me eventually. And when you do, I’ll have you naked and in my bed before you can take your next breath.”
Instead of responding to his declaration with shocked affront or virtuous fury, she tilted her head and eyed him with an arched brow. “Do you think to dissuade me with such rakish talk?
“Just being honest.”
“You’re a shameless scoundrel.”
He chuckled. “I am. Best you accept that. I’m not like your fine gentlemen. Never could be in a thousand years.” He spread his arms wide. “What you see is what you get, duchess.”
Her flickering gaze swept over him from head to toe. Across the width of his chest and the reach of his arms, down the length of his torso and then his wide stance. There was no way she’d be able to mistake him for anything other than what he was—a street fighter from the rookery, a bruiser who’d lived his entire life by the fist.
He brought his hands to his hips—waiting for her to take back her offer and rush from the room.
Finishing her perusal with a slow inhale, her eyes found his again.
He clenched his back teeth, knowing his gaze had to be running as hot as his blood by then. But her direct focus didn’t falter.
Instead, she set her head at an imperious angle. “What I expect is a loyal, capable bodyguard who will ensure Frederick’s safety until the threat has been addressed.”
She still wanted him? The woman was damned difficult to scare off. “You’ll pay dearly for the likes of me.”
One of her brows arched to a perfectly subtle effect. “I’ll pay whatever it takes to ensure my brother’s safety, Mr. Hale.” Then her lips curved ever so slightly. “Triple. Remember.”
Mason smiled in return, acknowledging her reference. But then she stated her offer for a weekly salary and he nearly choked on his tongue. The rate she was willing to pay for an indefinite period of time told him more than anything just how wealthy the Blackwells were. And how important her brother’s safety was to this woman.
Taking a moment to conceal his surprise, he countered with a figure nearly double what she’d named. “And a budget for expenses.”
There was only a slight pause before she nodded. “Agreed.”
It was an obscene amount. Far more than he’d ever expected her to agree to. He still wasn’t clear why she’d decided to consider him for such a role, but he was seriously considering accepting the offer.
“Claire goes where I go,” he said bluntly. “And her nurse.”
“Of course,” she replied with ready acceptance.
When he said nothing more, she turned and started toward the door. Apparently, his silence was all the agreement she needed. Pausing at the threshold, she looked back over her shoulder. “You have our address in Mayfair?”
“I’ll find you.” Mason crossed his arms over his chest and tossed her a weighty scowl. “So that’s it, then?”
She arched a brow. “Is there anything else?”
Mason thought about his plans for the future. “I’ll be wanting a reference.”
Confusion flickered across her face. “A reference?”
“I’ll be providing a service, dove. I’d expect the typical recommendations if I do it well, and the word of a duke—or a duke’s sister—tends to carry some weight.”
A pause. Then, “Agreed.”
He gave a short grunt of satisfaction. “We’ll be round tonight.”
Nothing in her expression changed, but he felt a shift in her demeanor. He just wasn’t sure what it indicated.
“Excellent,” she replied after a beat. “We shall discuss more of the details after you arrive.”
Then she left. And Mason remained. His blood still hot and pulsing, his mind rushing through the implications of what had just occurred. Had he really agreed to be the personal bodyguard to a duke?
Sure, it was just Freddie, and Mason would give hell to anyone who tried to hurt the boy. So why did it feel so much bigger than that?
Chapter Eleven
The main drawing room in the Duke of Northmoor’s London residence had not been fully redecorated since Katherine’s grandfather’s time, and yet it retained a timeless sophistication. Their country manor in Lincolnshire hadn’t been nearly so elegant. Katherine wouldn’t admit it out loud, but when they’d first arrived in London, she’d been overwhelmed by their lush and stylish new home. There were still times when she’d look around and felt a bit like a visitor in someone else’s life.
Glancing at