A pang of jealousy rippled through her as she realized, he’d not offered her such an opportunity. Her father? Aye. Her brother-by-marriage? Aye. She was as wealthy as each of them, though they knew it not, and could have come up with the funds necessary... if invited. Several blinks were necessary to rid her eyes of the unexpected burning that resulted from the realization. Though why it bothered her, she could not explain.
“Not this one. I have found the strategy works well with most m—” He’d scooped a bit of the fish in pastry onto his fork and lifted it to his mouth before pausing midway.
“Men. It works well with the men involved.”
His fork clattered on his plate as he dropped it. His expression changed several times in succession as she tried to identify each one. Astonishment or disbelief was easy for she’d seen it recently. Chagrin was appealing in a way she’d never thought possible on such a bold, focused man like him. Then, a mysterious glint filled his gaze and he looked from her to another woman sitting across the dining room. And then another in another section. And then he found the final woman in the far corner.
“My thanks, Lady Clare. I had never even considered approaching women who run companies or who have inherited and control their fortunes. New possibilities all around me and I had been too blind to see them.” He smiled and she lost her breath at his masculine beauty. “I shall pay you a finder’s fee for each one I do business with in the future since you gave me the idea.” He leaned over and his smile disappeared. “Make no mistake, my lady, I understand my error in not considering the ladies as possible business partners. Considering my up—” He stopped abruptly and stared off for a moment. “Considering the extent of my own businesses, I should have taken them seriously long before this.”
“Men rarely do.”
Chapter Ten
The words slippedout against her nature. It sounded bitter, even while the truth. Clare had dealt with the infuriating behavior against her since she inherited Jonathan’s estate. No one took her seriously. No one wanted to do business with her. It took a long time and so much money to establish accounts with stores and suppliers. And, with some of the businesses she owned, so much effort to convince them of the stability of a company directed by a woman.
Again, any further conversation was halted as the waiters cleared the table. Iain’s blue gaze narrowed as he watched her instead of the activity around them.
Hehadtaken her seriously. In spite of their being on opposite sides of their own negotiations and after the first incident of mistaken identity, Iain Buchanan had spoken to her, not around her. He had prepared and conducted a meeting that addressed her directly.
“Perhaps after we sort out our present negotiations you would consider investing in one or another of my ongoing projects?” he asked. Had he seen inside her thoughts?
“I suspect that we will be finished once we conclude our talks.” Better not to give him hope or tempt her to continue any connection between them. Silence met her statement, and she waited through several uncomfortable seconds until he finally broke into it.
“Alas, Lady Clare, if that is true, you tempt me to drag out our negotiations so that I can continue in your company.”
His tone was light and teasing and yet his words sounded as though he spoke the truth. Heat filled her once more at just the thought of seeing him again. Of doing battle with him with words. Of watching the way his eyes glinted with desire or jest.
Of kissing him and touching him.
Then, a piercing stab of loss filled her at the thought that she would not do those things.
How? How had this happened? Confused over her warring emotions, Clare decided she needed to escape his presence. She grabbed her reticule and stood, only then realizing panic was driving her actions and she had nowhere to go.
“Are you well, my lady?” he asked, standing since she did. His voice deepened with concern.
“I need... I need to...”
Mistaking her need, he motioned to one of the footmen stationed around the large dining room. When the man approached, Iain leaned over and said something she could not hear. With a nod, the footman approached her and guided her out of the dining room and through the exquisitely decorated lobby. Was the similarity to the luxury hotels she’d seen in London of his own choosing, or did some designer make the decisions here?
With the traveling he did and the places he’d seen and visited, it was probably a mix of the best designs of palaces and noble houses and other splendid buildings. She fought the smile that threatened. Sir Iain Buchanan did nothing by half-measure. This hotel matched his opinion of himself and his worth.
As she followed the footman up the gilded staircase covered in thick, beautiful carpeting, Clare noticed the paintings that were hung between large windows. Three crystal chandeliers that held dozens if not hundreds of candles burned brightly, spreading light through the huge lobby and up the stairs. The light from them reflected off and through the crystals and the gold decorations around the lobby and gave it a magical appearance.
Not even the recently redesigned Assembly Rooms or the exquisite Signet Library could compete with the beauty and grace of this hotel. When they reached the landing at the top, the footman led her along a wide corridor and turned into a narrower one.
“Here is the retiring room, my lady,” the young man said, bowing and stepping back as he opened the door. “A maid will help you within.” She thanked him and walked into the chamber.
It was a parlor-like room, decorated in a Grecian theme and in colors of pale turquoise, cream and gold. A few small couches were scattered around the main area and the carpeting used the same color scheme as did the cushions of the furnishings and the draperies. On seeing it, Clare decided she loved the palette chosen here and might even use it for her bedchamber.
“My lady?” So caught up in studying the décor, she’d not noticed the maid enter from a door in the corner. “Ye can see to yer needs here.”
Since she’d made it this far, Clare decided to take her time, regain her balance, and use the accommodations for her comfort. After a short time and several slow, deep breaths, she felt ready to return and bring this evening’s encounter to an end before she did anything truly stupid.
She’d learned a few things about the man and so she counted the night a success. And that did not even consider the delicious food and drink and visit to this lovely new establishment. Now, she knew he did not speak French and that he had more holdings than they’d known before. Clare would tell her solicitors to look into that immediately.
In the meantime, she would avoid being alone with Iain Buchanan, an easy thing to accomplish because he would be leaving for the ball, and she would be going home. And no matter the temptation he was becoming with his wicked smiles and appealing glances. No matter that every time she looked at him or when he spoke, she could think only of his mouth on hers. Opening the door back into the parlor, she found the maid waiting for her.
“My lady, if ye’ll come this way.”
