“Really?” Duffy arched a brow. “According to the wags, he oozes animal magnetism.”
“Mr. Godwin possesses no special powers, I assure you. He’s an average fellow with deep pockets.”
“Wealth does inflate a man’s reputation, doesn’t it?” Duffy said sagely. “The industrialists I encountered in London were pale, spindly coves hunched over from too much time at the desk. And do not get me started about the dukes?—”
The bell over the door tinkled.
“How strange. I must have forgotten to lock up.” In a genial voice, Duffy called, “I am afraid we are closed for lunch…”
His gaze widened, his jaw slackening. Twisting around on her stool, Gigi saw what—or who, rather—had caused this reaction. Dressed in a rich navy overcoat, a smart hat dipping rakishly over his brow, Conrad Godwin strode in like he owned the place.
She rose, ready to face her nemesis. Duffy got to him first.
“Welcome to my humble establishment, sir.” Duffy bowed as if he were greeting a king. “How may I be of assistance today?”
“As it happens, I have found what I’m looking for.” Godwin locked his sea-green gaze on her. “Good afternoon, Miss Harrington. I am delighted to see you again.”
Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that the blackguard had discovered her identity. He was the sort of man who went into battle prepared.
“I am surprised to see you, Mr. Godwin,” she said coolly.
Her reply was meant to be an insult. However, his mouth merely quirked as if he found her…amusing? She narrowed her eyes.
In the tense silence, Duffy cleared his throat. “You are Conrad Godwin?”
As Gigi went to the back of the shop, she caught Colette’s worried expression and Duffy’s knowing one. The latter raised his brows and mouthed, “A man like any other? Average?”
Rolling her eyes, she said, “This will only take a few minutes.”
She closed the velvet curtains and, squaring her shoulders, faced her adversary. The space served as Duffy’s storage and work room, with bolts of fabric heaped on large worktables and trimmings overflowing from cabinets along the walls. With his outsized masculinity, Godwin ought to have looked ridiculous standing next to a dressmaker’s form draped with pink satin and lace, but he didn’t. The blasted man had the confidence to look at home anywhere.
Admittedly, Godwin was far from average and not just because of his self-assurance. He exuded a force more potent than mere charm. His calculating Viking’s gaze held one captive while his striking virility overpowered one’s resolve. He was the kind of fellow who would pillage your village and make you think he’d done you a favor.
In other words, you must tread carefully. Discover why he wants Letty’s property. Try to dissuade him from his plans, and failing that, impress upon him that the spa is not for sale.
“What are you doing here?” she asked stiffly.
“I’ve asked myself that question countless times in the last hour. There I was, minding my own business in the square, when I was taken hostage by some old codger who insisted on giving me a tour.”
At the mention of the “codger,” Gigi smothered a grin. Wally was the village’s oldest and friendliest resident. Although age had slowed him down, he remained spry and took his self-appointed duties as Chuddums’s one-man welcoming party seriously. His infamous tours could last for hours, filled with minutiae that could be fascinating or deadly dull, depending on one’s perspective.
“You’ve met Mr. Walford, I take. Did you enjoy his tour?” she asked innocently.
“I thought I might be his age by the time it ended.”
At Godwin’s unexpected wit, Gigi felt a quiver of amusement…which she quickly quelled. The fact that he had a sense of humor didn’t make him any less cold-blooded. And while she could bend the rules of propriety, she couldn’t ignore them completely. She only had a few minutes to settle matters with him. As antagonism hadn’t served her well the last time, she would try a different approach.
Remember this, dearest Gigi. Mama’s words flitted through her head. It is easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.
Dear God. Papa had given Mama a wry look. Our daughter already has your looks. If you teach her charm as well, the gentlemen won’t have a fighting chance.
Gigi put on a beguiling smile, one that usually had gentlemen scrambling to do her bidding. “I wouldn’t think a place like Chuddums would hold any interest for a man like you?—”
“What sort of man is that, Miss Harrington?”
When he lifted his brows, her cheeks warmed. Since her debut, she’d been celebrated for her poise and breezy command of any social situation, yet this fellow wreaked havoc on her equilibrium. Around him, she felt as if she were tottering on too-high heels, constantly trying to find her balance.
“An accomplished man of business.” She made a graceful recovery. “Stories of your professional prowess precede you, sir.”
