“I… haven’t experienced it directly,” he hedged.She didn’t believe in love?
“But you’re searching for it?”she pressed.
“This isn’t about me,” he said.“I’m not your customer.”
She lifted a shoulder.“Then why should I care about your opinion?”
“It’s not evenmyopinion,” he blurted.“Don’t you know other people who believe in love?”
She cocked her head in thought.“Gloria does.”
He had no idea who Gloria was, but he was glad the lady believed in fantasies.
“There you have it,” he said with relief.“Gloria believes in love.Don’t you think she should find it?What if you discovered her in the arms of the wrong man, all because he hoodwinked her delicate senses with some five-quid manipulative odor?”
Miss Mitchell stared at him.“That is literally the entire reason men are dumping it on by the bucket.They want to be the wrong arms that hapless women tumble into.”
“And you wish to be a party to that?”he burst out in disbelief.
“It cannot happen,” she said simply.“Women aren’t ‘hapless.’That is a fiction men choose to believe.Be logical.A manufactured scent may capture a lady’s attention, but no perfume melts away clothing.Women makechoices.”She glanced over his shoulder.“Five minutes.”
Nicholas ground his jaw.Miss Mitchell was impossible.How could he make her understand?She had thus far been unmoved by appeals to love or emotion.He needed another tack.Which left the most universal motivator of all: money.
He sighed.“I’ll buy it from you.”
“Five pounds,” she said immediately.“You can find a bottle at any chemist’s shop.”
“No.”He leaned forward.“I mean the whole thing.Duke.I want full and exclusive rights over production and distribution.”
“You want to produceDukeyourself?”she asked doubtfully.
Not exactly.He planned to cease production altogether.Once distribution was up to his discretion, he would simply stop providing it.Situation solved.
He gave her his most charming smile.“Name your price.”
Chapter 4
Penelope gazed beneath her lashes at the dashing London rake seated on one of her worn kitchen stools.As before, she very much saw what all the fuss was about.
The lushly chiseled mouth, the perfectly symmetrical features, the golden stature of tall enough to stand out but not so tall as to make kissing ungainly.With a form like his, anything would look sinful.
Then there was his proposition.Any price she might wish, if she would just sign away all control of the one invention that had ever gained her any recognition whatsoever.
Why had he made the offer?Did he think her driven more by wealth than science?Or perhaps he had been jesting, and had not expected her to consider his proposal for even this long.
She turned to gaze at him directly, giving up any pretense that both he and his proposition were not under intense scrutiny.
No doubt the man was as arrogant as his offer.But there was something more.Something he wasn’t telling her.A puzzle.
Although she had known him for less than five minutes, his impassioned criticism of her perfume as an unfair advantage to those who had not earned the privilege had rung true.
Given that perspective, she doubted he had any intention of continuing production of her perfume, were he to gain control of the process.She tilted her head.He had very carefully refrained from false promises.Perhaps due to honor.Or perhaps an old habit from his profession as a rake.
“Is ‘rake’ a profession?”she asked curiously.
“Are you even thinking about my offer?”he exploded in frustration.
Nowas on the tip of her tongue, so swift and so sour she could taste it.But she swallowed the urge rather than indulge it.She, too, could be careful with her words.Just because she intended to send him to the devil didn’t mean she ought to be hasty in doing so.
