“Do I? Then by all means, convince me.” He leaned against the mantel, crossing his arms. “Show me what an experienced woman of pleasure you are.”
Panic flashed across her features before she marshaled her courage. She approached him with determined steps that faltered when she got within arm’s reach. Her hand lifted toward his chest, hesitated, then dropped.
“I …” She swallowed hard. “That is, we could …”
“We could what?” Aaron kept his voice deliberately mild, but something about her distress stirred an unexpected protectiveness in him. “If you’re going to seduce me, you should at least be able to articulate the plan.”
Anger flared in her eyes, the first genuine emotion she’d shown. “You’re mocking me.”
“I’m trying to understand what’s happening here. Because it’s obvious that someone has sent you to trap me.” He straightened, using his height to his advantage. “I’m not in the habit of being bribed with virgins.”
She gasped, her hand flying to her throat. “How dare you …”
“I dare because it’s written all over you. From your proper curtsy when I walked in, to the way you can’t even look at me directly when you’re offering companionship.” Aaron moved closer, and she backed away until the wall stopped her retreat. “So, I’ll ask again. Who sent you?”
“No one.” Her voice broke on the word.
“Try again.”
“I told you. I’m here because I choose to be.”
Aaron planted his hands on the wall on either side of her, caging her in without touching. She pressed back against the wallpaper, her breathing quick and shallow.
This close, he could smell her perfume, something simple and floral that suited her far better than this tawdry scene.
“Look at me,” he said.
She lifted her chin and met his eyes, and in her steady gaze, he saw everything there. Fear, determination, and underneath it all, a desperation that made his chest tighten.
“Whatever hold they have on you,” he said quietly, “whatever threat they’ve made, I can help. But only if you tell me the truth.”
For a moment, her resolve wavered. Her lips parted as if she might speak. Aaron took a step toward the door, ready to leave her to whatever explanation she refused to give.
Then footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, and terror transformed her features.
“Please.” She gripped his arm with sudden urgency. “Please don’t leave. If you leave now, something terrible will happen.”
“To you?”
“No. To someone I …” She shook her head. “Just stay. An hour. Maybe less. That’s all I ask.”
Aaron studied her face, reading the genuine terror there. Someone had a blade to this woman’s throat, metaphorically, if not literally. The question was whether he wanted to involve himself in whatever scheme was unfolding.
“If I stay,” he said slowly, “you’ll tell me everything. No more lies, no more acting.”
She nodded quickly. “Yes. I promise. Just not yet. When it’s safe.”
Aaron stepped back, giving her room to breathe. She sagged against the wall, relief and exhaustion warring on her face.
Whoever she was, whatever her purpose here, she was no practiced seductress. She was a pawn, and not a willing one.
He took a long gulp from his drink, taking his time, using the moment to think. The message that brought him here had been signed by a Mr. Reginald Blackburn, supposedly a textile merchant seeking investors. Yet the handwriting had seemed familiar …
“You might as well sit,” he said without turning. “If we’re to maintain this pretense for an hour, you should at least be comfortable.”
Fabric rustled as she moved to one of the leather chairs. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t agreed to anything.” Aaron turned to face her. “What’s your name?”
