“It won't be a problem,” he told Wil.
“It might already be a problem.” Wil scraped his hand across his jaw. “When you become involved with a woman, develop feelings—”
Brogan grumbled at that accusation. Not because there wasn’t some truth in it, who couldn’t like Juliana, but at the fact that his emotions were so easily discerned. When the affair ended, his associates might pity him if they suspected he had been hurt. An unbearable thought.
“—your judgment becomes compromised. I think I should assign a new investigator to her case.”
“Like hell.” Brogan took a step into the man. Physically intimidating his boss probably wasn't the smartest idea, but there was no way he was going to let someone else stand by Juliana’s side. He was going to be the one to protect her. He was the only person he trusted to take her safety as seriously as needed.
“My judgment is fine,” he said. “This is my case. She's my responsibility. Even if you took me off it, I'd be sticking by her side.”
Wil looked heavenward. “I knew I shouldn’t have accepted this job. When Summerset asked me to manage the agency, I should have said no. The whole lot of you are ungovernable. I was better off as his servant. Good food to eat, a nice roof over my head. And I only had to manage one oversized ego.”
Brogan huffed. Wilberforce might have worked for Lord Summerset, but there was nothing subservient in his manners towards the man. They were friends, it was clear. Otherwise, the earl would never have put up with Wil’s impertinence.
“Look.” Wil glanced at Juliana, then turned his back to her, facing Brogan and blocking out the others. “I'm saying this for your sake. Lady Juliana seems like a very nice woman.”
Brogan rubbed his chest. Nice wasn’t the word for her. She got under his skin too deep to be considerednice.
“But sometimes…” Wil swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. “Sometimes, as men, we don't get the women we want. Sometimes, life doesn’t work out the way we hope. If you can withdraw now, you'll save yourself a future of misery. Trust me on this. I know.”
Brogan slumped back against the wall. It was good advice. He eyed the man’s drawn face. And apparently learned from personal experience. And it mirrored Brogan’s own judgment on the matter.
But every time he told himself to back off, he only craved Juliana more.
Wil was right. Brogan knew his future. It didn't include the daughter of an earl.
But if his future was going to be missing her smile, her quick wit, her unconventional manners, he’d best soak in as much of Juliana in the present as he could.
His memories would have to last him.
And he wanted Juliana to have fond memories of him, as well. So, if she wanted a boring evening, full of insipid harp music and stilted conversation, by damn, he'd give it to her.
Even if he hated every moment.
“Thank you for your interest,” he said. “I know it is kindly meant.”
“But?” Wil asked.
“But I'll handle my affairs as I see fit.”
Wil nodded. “I understand.” He shrugged. “That's the most that any man can do.”
Brogan started across the office, but Wil placed his hand on his arm. “If you’re going to this musicale, you do know we have a closet full of clothes to suit any occasion. Our agents use them for disguises. I think this qualifies.”
Brogan’s shoulders drooped. It looked like he would be playing dress-up this evening. He trudged over to Juliana.
She smiled up at him, her face full of joy.
His spirits couldn’t help but lift. He shouldn’t grumble so much about dressing up for the evening.
Because when it came time to undress, she would be there. Having her in his bed was worth any sacrifice.
“What time does this evening of torture begin?” he asked.
Chapter Twenty
Juliana sighed in delight. Mrs. Joanna Bergen’s nimble fingers dancing on the harp were more than she had hoped for. “Isn’t she a talent?”
