Spoiled Evelyn (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 4) by Carré White Page B

you going to do?”
    “I don’t know,” I said miserably.
    “Are you worried about a kidnapping?”
    We had entered the hotel, strolling across the foyer, which had thinned out. “Yes, I am.” I stopped by the steps, facing him. “Mrs. Hershey knows about my past. I didn’t tell her before I arrived. I told her after. I lied to her. I lied to Percy. I don’t know if I can marry him.” Withdrawing my hand from its glove, I began to chew on a fingernail, which was unladylike, but my anxiety had reached new heights. I needed a distraction.
    Mr. Brittle stared at me thoughtfully. “Why did you agree to marry this Joseph person?”
    “My father forced me. He’s terribly rich and connected, but he means to keep me as one of his possessions. I can’t live like that.”
    “You’d rather work at a grocers?”
    “I don’t mind work, sir. I know you think little of me, but I came here to start fresh. I want to marry someone, but I feel nothing for Percy. He’s really just a boy.” Why was I telling him all of this?
    “Then he can offer you little protection. You need someone to manage things now, so you can find the husband of your dreams.” He grinned.
    “You’re incorrigible.” I had to smile, because it was difficult not to.
    “Why not hire me?”
    “You?”
    “Yes, me. I’m waiting on my house to be built and a shipment of cattle. I’ve got little to do but drink and chase women. I’m free to take the odd job.” He winked. “It might keep me outta trouble.”
    “I’ll think about it.” To my consternation, I glimpsed the man again, because he had entered the lobby. “I’m meeting Percy for lunch. It’s a little early yet. Why don’t we go in and talk?”
    He beamed enthusiastically. “That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all year.”

Chapter 8
    T he dining room had not filled in yet, because the noon rush hadn’t begun. We were seated near the back, towards the kitchen, but I did not mind. A wall and a large fern offered a fair amount of privacy. Feeling disordered, I had chosen a glass of wine, not caring if it were chilled or not.
    “You’re gonna chew that nail right off, if you’re not careful.”
    I glanced at Mr. Brittle. “What am I going to do? I can’t stay here, if they’ve found me.”
    “Did you tell your first fiancé you’re not gonna marry him?”
    “In the letter I left with the ring.”
    “Some men need a little more closure than that. I’d get the message straight away, but rich men tend to be pigheaded. They need everything explained to them in detail.”
    “That’s because they are used to getting their own way. Everything normally falls into place for them.”
    “I think you’re used to that too. You seem awfully picky about men. None of ‘em seem good enough for you.”
    “You don’t know me well enough for such a generalization, Mr. Brittle.” My tone sounded harsh, but that had hit a nerve. “I’d appreciate not being judged by the likes of … of … someone’s who’s wanted by the law.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve paid for whatever transgressions I’ve perpetrated on society. I did go to jail for a few months. My name is free and clear now. You’re judging me too, honey.”
    “Don’t call me honey.”
    “Do call me Chuck.”
    “Mr. Brittle,” I said sternly. “Why on earth would I hire you? What exactly would you do for me, besides trying to seduce me?” I glared at him pointedly, challenging him to disagree with that assessment.
    He leaned back in his chair, fighting a smile. “There’s something about you I like. I can’t quite put my finger on it. You’re beautiful to be sure, but there’s a fire there that appeals to me. I love spirited women.”
    I lifted my chin fractionally. “I can see straight through your flattery.”
    “I know my reputation precedes me. I know Mrs. Kelly isn’t happy with how I’ve behaved. I confess to it all and then some, but even a blackguard such as myself has to settle