What the absolute devil?Though he had not known her more than a day, he did not believe such fawning behavior was typical of her.Before he could make sense of it all—or pick his jaw up from his chest, where it had dropped—she continued.
“But I do believe I informed you yesterday during the tour of your facilities that I would be sticking close to youfor the fortnight leading up to Mrs.Finch’s match.It is imperative that it be a success.Which I’m certain it will be,” she hurried to say, her wide smile widening even further, something he had not thought possible considering how her cheeks had seemed to be nearly split in two.“If someone as capable as you is in charge, it can only be successful.But it is my job to make certain everything that can be done is done.You understand, don’t you, Mr.Sinclaire?”
Once more she fluttered those long lashes of hers, so rapidly it was a wonder they did not create a whirlwind to blow him away.He narrowed his eyes, the back of his neck tingling, much like a dog sensing an approaching storm, no doubt.Something was brewing, coming closer, looming over him and Dionysus and everything he had worked so hard to build, ready to rain down on them all.And this woman could very well be part of it.
Oh, she might not be the center of the storm.He had no doubt at all that someone who worked for Dionysus was there at the eye of the hurricane.But the only way to ascertain how big a part Mrs.Marlow might play in it was to keep her as close to himself as possible.He pressed his lips tight.Despite his wish to do otherwise.A wish he would insist was real, no matter how much his heart thrummed whenever she was near.
Blessedly, it seemed she was doing her damnedest to make certain they were in close proximity.Well, far be it from him to disappoint her.
“I am in complete agreement, Mrs.Marlow,” he murmured, dipping his head in her direction.
That seemed to stall her.She blinked, her smile faltering.“You—you are?”
“Absolutely.But there is much to do.And there is no better time than the present.Shall we?”
Without waiting for her answer, he spun about, ignoring the flare of excitement in his gut as she scurried after him.
A short time later, however, he was ready to curse his former self for being so bloody clever.
Mrs.Marlow leaned forward in her seat across the carriage from him, the better to peer out the window as they pulled away from Dionysus.The slight movement sent a waft of sweet violets his way, and he gritted his teeth tight against the sudden clenching of each and every muscle in his body.It had perhaps not been the best idea to bring her along with him on today’s errand; the carriage, while spacious and easily able to accommodate all four partners, was somehow much too cramped just then.He hooked a finger under his cravat, trying to ease the sudden tightness in his chest.Though she was slender, hardly taking up any physical room, the air fairly vibrated with her presence.Or perhaps the sensation was confined to his body; it felt as if someone had taken a tuning fork and stuck it in the top of his head.
Mayhap things would be less tense if they were to talk.This charged silence was wreaking havoc on him in ways he could not have ever believed possible.
“I did not expect us to venture from Dionysus today,” she said now.
No, he had been wrong.Her voice, with that faint huskiness, was so much worse than silence, acting like a physical touch.He cleared his throat against the sudden heat that sizzled along his skin to parts of him he would rather not think about just then.“It is imperative that we secure Mrs.Holburn as Mrs.Finch’s opponent,” he replied as evenly as he was able.Which, to his frustration, was not very.
“And we could not simply write her?”She turned from the view at the window to peer at him with that overbright smile of hers that nonetheless did nothing to hide some peculiar frustration beneath the surface.“This seems a waste of your time when a messenger could get the job done just as well.”
Why did she appear discontented?Seeing as Mrs.Finch’s opponent was quite possibly the most important aspect of the match, Mrs.Marlow should be eager to be involved in this portion of the process.Truly, the woman was growing to be more of an enigma with each interaction.
“There is no time for a back-and-forth with Mrs.Holburn and her manager,” he replied.“We need to confirm her participation today if we are to have the advertisements and flyers prepared in time.”
“Ah.”She flushed, giving one last look out the window in Dionysus’s direction with an almost wistful expression before turning to face him once more, that same blank-eyed brightness from earlier back in place.“Of course you’re right.I should never have doubted you.You are a professional, after all, and have things well in hand.It’s an honor to work with someone with your experience and care.”
What the devil?The compliments poured from her tongue like wine.Yet though they sounded sincere enough, they tasted more like vinegar to him.
Not knowing how to respond, he leveled an emotionless stare at her.His utter lack of response to her compliments seemed to confound her.Her smile trembled, a small muscle twitching at the corner of her eye.But where most others would have settled back in silence, she proved as stubborn as her strong jaw indicated.
“Might I sit beside you?”she asked, those eyelashes fluttering once more.“While I appreciate you giving me theforward-facing seat”—here she paused, her expression saying she thought him a consummate gentleman, something no one had ever accused him of in his life—“I do like to see where I’ve been, rather than where I’m going.”Then, without waiting for a response, she half rose from her seat, twisting her body, and slid herself onto the seat beside him.
Ethan could do little more than freeze, every part of him going rigid at the feel of her pressed so close to him.And yes, that body part went rigid as well.He swallowed hard.Damnation, one would think he had been without a woman for years the way he was reacting to something so innocuous as Mrs.Marlow’s warmth beside him.Which was not lessened a moment later when her fingers curled around his arm.
“There now, isn’t this nice?”she said brightly.
No, not a damn bit.Or, rather, it was too nice.So nice, in fact, that it took every ounce of willpower for him not to lean in and drag the sweet scent of her into his lungs, every bit of strength not to turn toward her and bury his face in her neck and taste her skin.Instead, he ripped his arm from her grasp and lurched across the carriage, falling in an incongruous heap on the opposite bench.Which was still warm from her bottom, something he was trying very hard not to think about.
“As you aren’t going to make use of it,” he muttered when she stared wide-eyed at him, “I may as well.Please,” he continued, louder now and with a raised hand, as she leaned forward, appearing as if she would follow him to this seat as well, “enjoy yourself there.I would not wish to take away the enjoyment of that view from you.”
He thought she would sit back and lapse into blessed silence for the remainder of their journey.It appeared that way at first, her body easing, the overly exuberantexpression falling from her face.He very nearly breathed a sigh of relief.
Nearly.
Until that stubborn jut of her chin manifested once again, a strange, determined gleam sparking in her eyes.Why, he thought a bit wildly as she gripped the cushion beneath her and leaned forward to move across to him once more, did she want so badly to attach herself to his side?It was not as if they were separated by some great distance in this godforsaken carriage.Before her bottom could so much as rise from her seat—ah, God, why did he have to think of her bottom again?—he blurted, “So tell me, how long have you known Mrs.Finch?”
Which, blessedly, was enough to stop her forward momentum.Once more she dropped back, her eyes blinking myopically at him.“Mrs.Finch?”
“Yes,” he said, perhaps a touch too eagerly, desperate to keep her distracted.“Mrs.Finch.When did you first become acquainted with her?”
