From Chapter 4

Jess stepped across the threshold.

As she climbed the stairs in Lord Trask’s stylish home, she made certain to keep her back straight and her steps confident.

Pretend to be a lady for the next three days. Mingle with England’s elite. Steer them toward financing McGale & McGale, but it must be done subtly. She could do this.

“You are enjoying your time in Town, Lady Whitfield?” the duke asked behind her.

“I am now,” she said—which was true. She’d pull off this coup and then, when Lady Catherton healed, they’d be off to the Continent. Jess need not worry about seeing the duke, or anyone else from the Bazaar, again. In the interim, she’d at last have the chance to do what she’d always desired: to be a viable player in the game of business.

“As for myself,” he said, “I consider London suddenly quite delightful.”

“I’m certain you find everywhere delightful.” She reached the landing and waited for him to join her.

“Well, everywhere finds me delightful.” He reached the landing, and while he kept a respectful distance, her head spun at having him so near, without the protective span of a Bond Street sidewalk between them. “People are inclined to become excessively agreeable in my presence.”

He was spectacularly attractive, and his eyes managed to be both flirtatious and insightful, so astute that she wouldn’t be surprised if he could see her all the way down to her shift and drawers.

“An understandable reaction to a duke.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Madam, are you suggesting that it’s my title that makes me so welcome wherever I go, and not the excellence of my person?”

“Your Grace likely receives bounteous flattery from all and sundry. Surely you can’t be so desperate for a compliment that you thirst for mine.”

A laugh burst from him, intimate and velvety, and heat unfurled within her.

“But you do have my thanks,” she murmured. “It was kind of you to gain me entrance to the Bazaar.”

“Nothing to thank me for.” He waved his hand dismissively. It was a rather beautiful hand, large and veined and masculine, and she had a quick image of that hand stroking up her back. “The Bazaar will benefit from your presence. We need sharp minds. And I’m nothing if not motivated by pure self-interest. I wanted you here.”

A small explosion of pleasure went off in her chest, though it was dangerous to feel it. “Again,” she said, “you are excessively kind.”

“I’m not excessively anything.” He shrugged, but the movement was sleek and drew attention to his superbly tailored coat, and the shoulders that filled it.

“That is untrue, and we both know it. You are the definition of excess.”

He laughed again, and the world narrowed so that it contained only them. “You are indeed a hawk. No one but a bird of prey can strike with such cutting accuracy.”

“And wolves take particular delight in the hunt.” She was freed from the cage that being a hired companion had locked around her. And he seemed to enjoy her own pleasure in being unchained. “I do agree with you that adding me to the Bazaar will benefit it.”

“A bold claim. Some of the country’s most esteemed financial minds are within that room.”

“They don’t know what I know.” She tapped a finger to her temple.

“I do not doubt that.” His gaze was equal parts sensuality and intelligence. And entirely admiring. “My lady.” He bowed and then moved into the drawing room.