Page 3 of The Beauty and the Boxer
Alone in his presence, Meredith felt warmthbeneath her collar as he slowly stood up. It would be consideredimproper for a woman to be alone with a man, particularly behind aclosed door, but then Meredith was firmly on the shelf. She was anold maid as far as society was concerned, and Jack was so farbeneath her social standing that it was comparable to being alonewith a footman.
Of course, since Sarah had remarried, itmight not be so wild an idea to think that Meredith was in somesort of danger of being compromised by a working-class man. Even ifJack Archer was notorious for only having courtesans as lovers, orso it seemed.
The thought of his love life made Meredith’scheeks hot. She certainly didn’t care one way or another who Jackspent his time with and she wasn’t going to think about it.Instead, she focused on the man before her.
He pushed himself away from the desk, hislarge forearms flexing as he did and, heaven help her, she couldn’tstop staring, her eyes greedily taking in the strength before her.Really, she should look away, but then what were a few moreprecarious moments? Half his arms were covered in sleeves, and shecould see the bicep muscles bulge beneath the fine white fabric. Hewore tan pants and tall black boots as he came around the edge ofhis desk. He leaned against it as his arms folded before his widechest and Meredith couldn’t help but imagine what sort of power hisarms held.
“Goodness gracious,” she said to herself asshe glanced down at her hands.
“Pardon?” He spoke.
“Nothing,” she said, staring back up athim.
He was dreadfully handsome, in a dangeroussort of way. His dark, coffee-colored eyes were filled with acalculating heat and his hair hung around his face in anunfashionably long sort of shag. It should be brushed back withpomp, but then she assumed that Jack Archer never cared for whatwas fashionable.
Still, her fingers twitched at the idea oftouching the curling, tawny locks.
Her gaze shifted down his face once more tothe deep scar on his cheek. Had she such a scar, she might feelugly or ashamed, but he didn’t seem to lack any sort of confidence.It was rather dashing in a treacherous sort of way, like how sheimagined a sun-kissed pirate might appear, if she ever thought ofone. Which she certainly did not.
His head dipped slightly as if to catch herattention and she knew she had been caught staring. Mortified, shefelt her cheeks heat up as she began to blink.
“What can I do for you then, MissTaylor?”
Shaken from her thoughts, she took a stepforward.
“I had asked your brother if he might helpme invest a modest amount of money, but he said that you werebetter with personal investments.”
One dark brow lifted over his eye.
“Did he?”
“Yes, and while I know the sum will seemrather paltry to you both, I had hoped that you could help directme so that I might be…” She trailed off.
“What?” he asked.
“Financially independent,” she saidquietly.
“Is that so?” he said, not moving. “Simonmentioned the amount you were hoping to invest. Two hundred poundsisn’t going to have the return you want.”
“It’s actually only one hundred andthirty-nine,” she said, apologetically. “But it is all I have andI’m eager to see if there isn’t some sort of investment I can maketo see a return.”
“What return would you like to see?”
“I need three times as much.”
“In how long?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Jack laughed, arms unfolding as they came tohis sides, resting on the edge of his desk. Meredith watched as hischest expanded with air as he did. There was no doubting how stronghe was, but that was to be expected of someone who had spent solong fighting in the ring. She noted the dozens of white scars onhis knuckles and arms as his fingers flexed against the desk,before her eyes came up to meet his.
“So, if I have your return in twenty years,that won’t matter?”
Meredith hadn’t thought that it would takethat long. She shook her head.
“Oh, no. What I meant was perhaps a year orso, if that were at all possible.”
“And what do you need this money for?”
