A Most Dangerous Profession by Karen Hawkins Page B

for his sixteenth birthday.
    Since you are so enamored of travel tomes, I have sent you these. Consider them your birthday gift, as I ate the Turkish delight I had purchased for you last month from a London confectionery shop.
    I’m sure you will prefer the books anyway, so enjoy your dry, dusty tomes and I hope they sweeten that soured disposition of yours.
    M oira couldn’t breathe. How had he guessed the truth?
    He cocked a brow at her. “Well? Do we have a child or not?”
    “Don’t be silly.” She dipped the sponge into the water to give herself time to think. “Us, with a child? I can’t even imagine it.”
    He frowned, his gaze narrowing. “There is no child?”
    “No. I’m not a very maternal sort of woman. What would I do with a brat?” Even saying the words seemed a betrayal to Rowena.
    “I don’t know if I believe you.”
    She forced a chuckle. “Feel free to search my luggage, my apartment, whatever you wish. I prefer my life unfettered, as do you, I thought.”
    He was silent a moment, his gaze assessing her. “So you tricked me into marrying you because . . .”
    “It was a challenge. I just wished to see if I could do it.”
    “
Ma chère
, allow me to disabuse you of the notion that that makes any sense. You tricked me and left me for some purpose. The only purpose you could have is that you were with child.”
    For one wild moment Moira thought about telling him the truth, but even as she had the thought, her sponge slipped from her fingers onto the floor. The splash brought her back to her senses. She was so close to getting Rowena back; all she needed was that damn onyx box. There was no need to deal with this complication.
    What if he decides he wants to keep her?
Moira’s heart stuttered.
I can’t get her back only to lose her again!
    The courts would never be kind to a woman alone, especially with her dubious history. Robert had connections in the government and he would use them to his benefit.
I can’t chance it. He must never know about Rowena.
    Moira leaned over the edge of the tub for the dropped sponge, stretching to reach it. When she slid back into the water, she caught the faint flush on Robert’s face.
    So you aren’t immune to me.
    Watching him from under her lashes, she pulled her hair to one side and laid an arm on the rim of the tub, baring her breast.
    His lips tightened slightly, a significant responsefor a man who was always in control. Satisfaction buoyed her. “Perhaps I married you because I knew it would inflame you,” she said calmly, rubbing the lavender soap on the sponge and then circling it around her breast.
    This time he visibly caught his breath.
You aren’t made of stone, are you?
    “Stop that right now.”
    “Stop what?”
    “Distracting me. I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work. If you don’t wish to discuss why you tricked me into marriage, then let’s talk of something else.”
    “Please, let’s.”
    “Good. Tell me about George Aniston. Why is that scoundrel in your life? And don’t pretend you’re in his employ. I know you and if there’s one thing you possess, it’s pride. You’d never work for a worm like him.”
    Suddenly, Moira was tired . . . tired of dissembling, tired of always being wary, tired of hating George Aniston and yet having to be polite to him while having to be hateful to Robert, when all she really wanted to do was—
    No, don’t,
she told herself severely. “As you’ve already guessed, I’m assisting Aniston in collecting the onyx boxes.”
    “That tells me what, not why.” Robert leaned forward and she was struck by his strength. Despite his lace and fine clothing, there was no mistaking that he was a man through and through. He’d proven that to her between the sheets and in other ways as well. He might look a dandy, but he was hard-bodied, cool-mannered, and deadly when the situation warranted it. Anyone who thought differently was a fool.
    He fixed his blue, blue gaze upon her now.