“Let me go, you autocratic jackass,” she hissed.
“Just because your brother doesn’t care about you—”
The words cut into her like shards of ice. “He cares. ”
“He lets you traipse around like a girl on the town, meeting with men—”
“We’re not wealthy. We don’t take carriages. I have to go out and work. He’s a gentle, quiet man, except when he’s angry. Believe me, if he knew I was seeing a man, he would be outraged. That’s why I have to be so careful.”
“And you’re very good at being careful, aren’t you? Like a cunning little cat. You’ve so much experience.”
“You’ve certainly enjoyed the benefit.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “We’re getting deep here, Beth. I want our relationship to be defined.”
“We’ve met three times and neither of us has any claim on the other.”
“By God, you’re in serious need of taming.” His hands tightened on her, his eyes darkened and dangerous. “Are you so unaware of how the world is? What perils you flirt with, with your reckless behaviour? I could detain you. I could take you to my yacht and take you with me to New York. I daresay a week at sea would prove ample time to tame a vixen.”
Encircled by his powerful arms, she had no doubt he could follow through on his threats.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze steadily. “If you do, I promise you I’ll get free the first moment your back is turned, and I’ll never, ever come back.”
His eyes widened and his grip loosened. Clutching her reticule, she dashed for the door.
“Beth!”
The anguish in his voice made her stop, her hand frozen on the doorknob.
“I wouldn’t really,” he said.
“You said it.” She would not turn around.
“I lost my head. Forgive me.”
At his contrite tone, a hot, metallic dryness filled her mouth. Fear of herself. Fear she would turn and run into his arms. Her hand shook upon the knob. She turned it, wrenched the door open and fled down the hall and into the night.
Chapter Five
Beth came out of the back room of her family’s Southwark cobbler shop, transfixed by the wavy patterns swirling in the creamed coffee she was taking to Charlie. She’d spent the past week sleepy and distracted.
“Mr Sexton, my sister, Miss Elizabeth McConnell,” Charlie said.
She jerked her gaze up. Sure enough, there he stood. Her breath caught and she set the mug on the counter with a heavy crash. Dressed in a plain, brown broadcloth jacket and nankeen pantaloons, he could have been any tradesman from the neighbourhood. Yet his height and arrogant bearing set him apart.
Those silver eyes focused on her, the momentary heat there reminding her of being abed with him. After a week spent aching with loneliness in her bed and staying away from City Tavern, tingling warmth suffused her belly. Her eyes traced the familiar contour of his angular jaw. She remembered their last meeting. When he had made her come over and over and how she had pressed a frantic rain of kisses upon that jaw. Remembered the taste of his sweat, the scent of their mutual arousal. Now wetness began to flow between her legs.
Her eyes flickered to her brother’s bland, pumpkin-shaped face and she prayed he could not read the ardent hunger on her face.
Grey was insane to have come here.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss McConnell.” Grey’s tone was cool and polite. A distant half smile curved his mouth.
“Entertain Mr Sexton for a moment, will you? I need to see how much cordovan leather we have in the back.”
She watched Charlie’s massive back as he departed, then she turned on Grey. “How did you find me?”
“There are only so many cobbler shops in Philadelphia. And certainly only one woman with such pale blonde—”
Outrage stunned her. “You were asking about me?”
“Don’t worry. I am the soul of discretion.”
“Ha! More like the soul of arrogance.” She glanced at the back room door, searching for Charlie’s huge shadow, then
“Just because your brother doesn’t care about you—”
The words cut into her like shards of ice. “He cares. ”
“He lets you traipse around like a girl on the town, meeting with men—”
“We’re not wealthy. We don’t take carriages. I have to go out and work. He’s a gentle, quiet man, except when he’s angry. Believe me, if he knew I was seeing a man, he would be outraged. That’s why I have to be so careful.”
“And you’re very good at being careful, aren’t you? Like a cunning little cat. You’ve so much experience.”
“You’ve certainly enjoyed the benefit.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “We’re getting deep here, Beth. I want our relationship to be defined.”
“We’ve met three times and neither of us has any claim on the other.”
“By God, you’re in serious need of taming.” His hands tightened on her, his eyes darkened and dangerous. “Are you so unaware of how the world is? What perils you flirt with, with your reckless behaviour? I could detain you. I could take you to my yacht and take you with me to New York. I daresay a week at sea would prove ample time to tame a vixen.”
Encircled by his powerful arms, she had no doubt he could follow through on his threats.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze steadily. “If you do, I promise you I’ll get free the first moment your back is turned, and I’ll never, ever come back.”
His eyes widened and his grip loosened. Clutching her reticule, she dashed for the door.
“Beth!”
The anguish in his voice made her stop, her hand frozen on the doorknob.
“I wouldn’t really,” he said.
“You said it.” She would not turn around.
“I lost my head. Forgive me.”
At his contrite tone, a hot, metallic dryness filled her mouth. Fear of herself. Fear she would turn and run into his arms. Her hand shook upon the knob. She turned it, wrenched the door open and fled down the hall and into the night.
Chapter Five
Beth came out of the back room of her family’s Southwark cobbler shop, transfixed by the wavy patterns swirling in the creamed coffee she was taking to Charlie. She’d spent the past week sleepy and distracted.
“Mr Sexton, my sister, Miss Elizabeth McConnell,” Charlie said.
She jerked her gaze up. Sure enough, there he stood. Her breath caught and she set the mug on the counter with a heavy crash. Dressed in a plain, brown broadcloth jacket and nankeen pantaloons, he could have been any tradesman from the neighbourhood. Yet his height and arrogant bearing set him apart.
Those silver eyes focused on her, the momentary heat there reminding her of being abed with him. After a week spent aching with loneliness in her bed and staying away from City Tavern, tingling warmth suffused her belly. Her eyes traced the familiar contour of his angular jaw. She remembered their last meeting. When he had made her come over and over and how she had pressed a frantic rain of kisses upon that jaw. Remembered the taste of his sweat, the scent of their mutual arousal. Now wetness began to flow between her legs.
Her eyes flickered to her brother’s bland, pumpkin-shaped face and she prayed he could not read the ardent hunger on her face.
Grey was insane to have come here.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss McConnell.” Grey’s tone was cool and polite. A distant half smile curved his mouth.
“Entertain Mr Sexton for a moment, will you? I need to see how much cordovan leather we have in the back.”
She watched Charlie’s massive back as he departed, then she turned on Grey. “How did you find me?”
“There are only so many cobbler shops in Philadelphia. And certainly only one woman with such pale blonde—”
Outrage stunned her. “You were asking about me?”
“Don’t worry. I am the soul of discretion.”
“Ha! More like the soul of arrogance.” She glanced at the back room door, searching for Charlie’s huge shadow, then
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