Page 12 of The Beauty and the Boxer
“No, actually, I just remembered I had tospeak with the cook about something. For the party. I’ll only be amoment.”
She hurried away before Meredith couldspeak. Very well. If her sister wished to be aloof, she had norecourse to stop her.
Entering the parlor, Meredith was surprisedto feel a sudden tightening in her core as she saw Jack. He stoodwith his hands behind his back, in grey slacks and a black and greydiamond patterned vest, with a long black coat. He was without hishat now and his wavy hair had been pushed back recently, with astrand or two falling over his forehead. He had shaved, she noted,as his scar was much more visible now. Still. She barely registeredit as she came into the room. The gentle perfume of soap and autumnclung to him. Cold air and earthy herbs that lined nearly everygarden in Bristol radiated off him as she stood before him.
“Mr. Archer,” she said, nodding her head. “Ididn’t expect to see you so soon.”
He gazed at her a moment longer beforenodding, his dark eyes never leaving her.
“Miss Taylor,” he said, his voice deep andwarm. “I hadn’t expected to see you either, but then here Iam.”
“Yes, here you are.”
They stared at each other for a moment, anawkward silence filling the air between them.
“I don’t know where my sister is,” she said,peering over her shoulder. “She was only to be a minute.”
“I’m quite content here without yoursister.”
Meredith stared back at him. He was tryingto shock her or bait her into something, she was sure. Well, shewouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“So that you might say something outrageousagain? To try and ruffle my feathers?” she asked, feeling bold.“You shan’t shock me again, Mr. Archer. I know you now.”
“Do you?” he asked, taking a step towardher. She took a step back and he smirked. “You seem afraid ofme.”
“Hardly.”
“It wouldn’t bother me. Most people areafraid of me.”
“I think most people are afraid of the Beastof Burnwall, not Mr. Archer.”
“We are one in the same.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I think oneis a clever epithet. Quite helpful when making deals and demandingthings to go his way.” Jack smirked as he stared at her. “And Ithink the other is a man who enjoys not being challenged.”
“I’ve always liked a challenge,” hecountered.
“In the boxing ring, perhaps,” she stated.“Not in business.”
“Well, aren’t you a clever sort. So, myscrapes and scars don’t bother you?”
Meredith had been terrified to look at himthe first time they met, having heard stories of his scars, butwhen she finally had, she didn’t think they were all that terrible.To be honest, his other scars were rather mild. There was one overhis left eye, that carved right at the arch of his brow. A white,raised mark cut across his nose and then there was the half Glasgowgrin, that swept up from the right corner of his mouth, halfway uphis cheek.
With his wavy hair and dark eyes, he gavethe impression of some sort of golden demon, but she hadn’t beenafraid. No, much to her private embarrassment, she had beenintrigued. For what sort of man could look so wicked and beautifulat the same time?
Even now, she knew fear was the furthestthing from her mind when she watched him.
“No,” she said, hating how her voice soundedsuddenly sultry. “Nothing about your face bothers me.”
The glint in his eyes shined as he watchedher, as if seeing something for the first time.
“You know, you’re one of the few people whocan bear to stare at me,” he said. “Most people turn away bynow.”
“Most people are, as you said, afraid ofyou. It’s hard to look someone in the eye when they scare you.”
“Especially when they’re beastly.”
“You’re not beastly, Mr. Archer,” Meredithsaid decisively.
