She did not know.
He reacted as if caught off balance. His weight rocked back slightly like he was resisting some unseen force... the same one that pulled her toward him.
The man removed his hat and raked his fingers through his hair and she was struck by the pure, masculine beauty of his face. He had a strong, straight nose to go with his hard jaw, and eyes as golden as a lion’s. Intelligent eyes. Bold ones.
His hair was black and thick. He wore it overlong as if he couldn’t be bothered with the details of grooming. Although neither the worn boots nor his shaggy hair detracted from his singular good looks.
However, a handsome face could mask a rotten soul. She’d learned that lesson from Paul. And her guard immediately went up when, in the blink of a golden eye, his manner changed.
He took a step away from her. The movement broke his hold over her, especially as mistrust crossed his face. “Whatare you doing here?”
At his bluntness, she almost offered an apology, until she realized she had every right to be here. He was the trespasser. Proudly, she stated, “I am the owner of this establishment.”
“The devil you are.”
“The devil I am,” she replied coolly. “And you are?”
“Mr. Ned Thurlowe, andI’mthe owner of this establishment.”
Her response matched his coldness. “You lie, sir.”
Chapter Four
Hewaslying.
Ned prided himself onneverlying... because there had been a time in his life when his very existence had depended upon his ability to lie.
Then later, after his father had taken him in under his roof, Ned had learned hard lessons about how civilized society judged liars. Especially lies told by a bastard son. It was because of his lying he’d been packed away to school before he’d turned six. That had been a brutal experience and somewhere along that journey, Ned had vowed he wouldneverlie again... until this moment.
Hedidn’town The Garland. But this woman’s appearance out of nowhere, her bold claim, well, it threw him off.Shethrew him off.
For the first time in his life, he experienced... desire. His reaction to her was immediate and strong. It made him feel out of kilter.
She reminded him of the descriptions of ancient sirens he’d read about in his schoolbooks.Her skin was clear and creamy. The modest black dress and cape could not hide her womanly curves, and his imagination supplied the rest. Her hair was in shambles with tendrils of curls escaping every which way and yet, the light from the greasy windows made it glow like the most brilliant ruby. Her eyes were the color of the clearest summer sky.
So of course he’d lied. He’d been turned inside out.Sherobbed him of good sense. He also had a headache to make Satan proud, induced by last night’s overindulgence, and a need to not let the Logical Men’s Society lose the only home they’d ever had. He was the chairman. This was his watch, and she was so very unexpected.
In truth, he remembered very little of what had happened last night. He recalled arriving at The Garland and all the lads royally roasting him about finally marrying Miss Taylor. He remembered Winderton being there... and that he’d not tethered his gelding, Hippocrates, outside, so that when he wanted to go home, he’d discovered the beast had seen himself back to the stables, something he was wont to do since Ned did not live far from The Garland.
Ned knew he had checked on the horse before stumbling to his own bed because, this morning, Hippocrates had been unsaddled and the paddock bolted. But the details were beyond Ned’s memory. When he’d asked Royce, his man who served as butler, valet, and assistant, if he had seen to Hippocrates, the answer had been no.
So Ned hadn’t been completely beyond redemption last night. Just a touch out of commission.
Well, more than a touch. He had woken in his bed still wearing boots and clothes. He couldn’t let Royce shave him this morning because the scraping of a razor on skin made his teeth ache.
Nor had it helped that as he’d saddled Hippocrates for this morning’s rounds, snippets of memory had begun to return, and one snip was alarming.
There had been women present at The Garland last night, or had there been? His drink-fuddled mind had registered the sight of skirts on people hustling in as he was leaving. As if they had been waiting for him to go.
Or had he just imagined it all?
Ned had stopped by the tavern this morning because he wanted to piece together the truth. He hoped it all had been his imagination. The Logical Men’s Society stood for male comradery, not loose ways. Heavy gambling and outlandish wagers were also frowned upon.
But now here wasthiswoman.
If she’d been here last night, he would not have forgotten her. Then again, he’d been very drunk, and it embarrassed him. He was also taken aback by her claim. He did not own The Garland. He wanted to. He’d asked questions about legally claiming the building for the Society. The consensus was that eventually the Society would assume ownership since Andy had no family. They already considered it theirs.
Her claim, right or not, would upset everything.
