Page 35 of A Little Bit Dangerous
She clasped his hand as it rested on her arm and squeezed gently. “I’ve never been able to depend on anyone. Forgive me if I ever seem disbelieving or ungrateful.”
The merest touch of her hand heated his blood. This woman did things to him no other woman ever had. He should run a mile. But he wanted her. He wanted her more than he cared to admit.
Christian reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small blade encased in a leather sheath. “Keep this in your reticule. Wield it with confidence, even if you have no intention of using it. Remember, the person you wish to portray to the outside world does not have to reflect who you are in private.”
She stepped closer and took the knife, their fingers brushing so intimately his abdominal muscles hardened. “That explains it, then.”
“Explains what?”
“Why people step aside for you and avoid meeting your gaze. They fail to notice you’re the perfect gentleman.”
“I’m different with you,” he said, giving a mischievous wink. It was true. Despite everything he’d said when she laid down the gauntlet and challenged him to seduce her, with Miss Lawton, he didn’t have to be anything but himself. “To his peers, a man’s persona is the measure of his success.”
“Did your brother tell you that?”
He laughed. “We’ve built an empire on that very philosophy.”
She frowned while considering her reply. “As a woman who can barely afford her next meal, perhaps I should adopt the same strategy.”
“On the contrary. I urge you to be yourself, Miss Lawton. I find I likehera great deal.”
She tapped him playfully on the arm. “Is this a ploy to seduce me or settle my nerves, Mr Chance?”
“Both. Is it working?”
She gave a half-shrug. “A little.”
Though they laughed, he kept his eyes secretly peeled. Something was wrong. Every instinct warned him to be on his guard.
“I fear Gibbs is growling at us again.” Christian gestured to the ogre atop the box. Keen to relax amid the safety of the carriage, he cupped her elbow and escorted her across the street. “Somerset House, Gibbs.”
“You’re cutting it fine if you mean to make your one o’clock meeting. Happen you think this carriage has wings or it’s being pulled by Arabian thoroughbreds.”
“You underestimate your ability to get the job done, Gibbs.”
“You overestimate my patience, Mr Chance.”
Miss Lawton smiled. “We won’t keep you waiting again.”
Gibbs ushered them into the carriage and covered the mile to the Strand with minimal delays. They arrived at Mr Woodrow’s office in the North Wing of Somerset House with less than a minute to spare. Indeed, the loud chime of a bell somewhere in the vicinity confirmed as much.
A well-dressed clerk made them wait ten minutes before escorting them into Woodrow’s lavish office. “Your one o’clock appointment, sir. Mr Chance and Miss Lawton.”
The gaunt, grey-haired man seated behind the walnut desk dragged his gaze from his ledger, quick to observe Miss Lawton’s alluring countenance. “Any relation to Sir Geoffrey, madam?”
“He is my father, sir.”
Daventry had urged them not to hide their identities when dealing with the Society’s respected members. Based on the predatory way Woodrow looked at her, Christian wondered if they’d made a mistake.
Woodrow leant back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I spent many months with your father in the Orient. He’s an excellent cartographer with unrivalled attention to detail.”
“I wouldn’t know, sir. I’ve not seen him for sixteen years. Indeed, I’m here with my colleague in a professional capacity to discuss a recent incident at the British Museum.”
Colleague?
One day soon, Christian hoped to be her lover.
Christian stepped forward and produced the letter from the Home Secretary, permitting them to investigate the death of a woman found in the Thames. “The lady in question had knowledge of stolen artefacts. Artefacts sold to the museum from your recent haul in Amarna.”
