Page 25 of The Princess and the Rogue

Anya’s heart gave an irregular beat. “Here, at the club?”

“No. He’s never come here, to my knowledge.”

She let out a silent sigh of relief.

“I met him at a reception last week. He’s the one looking for his missing fiancée. Does he mean Princess Denisova?”

“Yes. But they were never truly engaged. He asked for her hand on several occasions, but the princess had no desire to marry him. Her family refused on her behalf.”

“He refuses to accept she’s dead?”

Anya raised her brows and sent him an arch look. “He’s the kind of man who thinks so highly of himself that he cannot believe a woman would leave him. Or refuse him.”

She injected just enough scorn into her tone that he caught the inference; she believedhimguilty of the same sin.

His brows drew together, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Why did you come to England after the death of your mistress? Why not return home?”

“I’d been the princess’s companion my whole life. She was my dearest friend. With her gone, there was nothing left for me in Russia. My parents are dead. I had no fiancéor husband waiting for me. The princess gave me some of her jewels before she died, so I decided to make a new start somewhere fresh. I sold them to pay for my passage and applied for a post as secretary-companion to your great-aunt.”

He watched her silently for a moment, absorbing this, and she fought not to fidget.

“All right. The duchess clearly likes you”—he paused, and Anya just knew he was mentally addingalthough God knows why—“so I’ll humor her. For now. I assume Petrov’s diplomatic duties will only keep him here for a short time. He may have discovered your connection to the dowager, but nobody knows you’re here with me now. You’ll be safe as long as you stay put.”

“One man might know—the one who escaped last night. He could have recognized you as the dowager’s nephew.”

“That’s true, although unlikely. I doubt he got a good look at me from that distance. Did you see his face?”

“Yes.”

“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“I think so. Your servants won’t talk?”

He sent her an affronted look. “Of course not. They’re loyal to me.”

He raked a hand through his hair, which only served to rumple it attractively. She chided herself for noticing.

“This situation has been thrust upon both of us. God knows, I have no desire to play nursemaid to you, or to anyone, but I’ve never been one to shirk my duty. We must simply make the best of it.”

Anya nodded. His dark gaze brought a tingle to her skin as he sent her an odd, speculative look. She could almost hear him thinking.

“Since your presence here is unavoidable, you might as well make yourself useful. Pay for your keep, as it were.”

Her stomach fluttered in alarm.

“I happen to be working on a case for Bow Street that requires the translation of a number of Russian documents. You can decipher them.”

Her tension eased a fraction, accompanied by the very faintest sense of disappointment. She’d thought he meant to proposition her again. “Very well. I can do that.”

“Good.” He leaned back in his chair, tugged open a drawer in his desk, and withdrew a large stack of papers. “You can start straight away.”

Anya frowned as he deposited the mountainous pile on the desk in front of her. His lips twitched as he noted her obvious displeasure.

“Unless you have any objection of course?”

She ground her teeth. So, he was going to demand his pound of flesh, was he? “None at all,” she said sweetly. “Would you like me to work in here?”

She prayed he would say yes. She would snoop through every one of his drawers as soon as he left her alone. She would know more about this man who was holding her under polite house arrest.

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