Lone Wolf's Woman. Carol Finch
You weren’t who I was expecting.”
Julia blushed furiously, remembering the feel of his hand on her breast. She had reacted instinctively, unaware that he had mistaken her for Harvey Fowler. “You’re right,” she admitted. “You didn’t deserve those hard slaps. I apologize. It was just my self-preservation instinct kicking in.” She returned to the matter at hand. “You will be using my suite during your employment. No argument.”
He scowled.
Julia lurched around to stride down the hall before he had the chance to protest again. “I want you next door to Adam. On the same side as the balcony, in case someone sneaks up on him. That is sensible and practical.”
“And where will you be sleeping while I’m lounging in your bed?” he asked, close behind her. “What makes you think this mysterious sniper isn’t coming after you next—because you can identify him. I need to know exactly where you are if trouble arises.”
The comment caused her to jerk up her head, and she noted his grim countenance. He might be right, but she refused to cower, even if she and her brother might be targets of Sol’s revenge.
“I’ll be in the guest room across the hall,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder.
Lone Wolf opened the door then gave a low whistle as he surveyed the palatial suite that surpassed anything he had ever seen. Expensive furnishings lined the walls. Velvet drapes cascaded beside floor-length windows that provided a view of the moonlit gallery and the rolling hills beyond. These were definitely accommodations fit for royalty.
But he was as far from royalty as you could get.
“Nice place, Julia. I always wondered what the lap of luxury looked like.”
“You’re going to know what it feels like, too,” she told him determinedly. “You are staying here. We will speak of it no more. I already told you that you could name your price for helping Adam and me.” Her arm swept out in an expansive gesture. “These are the fringe benefits. A nice room and home-cooked meals. This is what Preston hospitality looks like, so get used to it.”
Lone Wolf chuckled. He didn’t have reason to laugh very often. But Julia had provoked his amusement twice in a matter of minutes, not to mention the reluctant smiles she had drawn from him since they’d met.
Obviously she was as generous as she was spirited and intelligent. He liked that about her. Liked the fact that she knew her own mind and stood up for what she believed in. That separated her from the ordinary masses and drew his respect. He wondered, however, how she was going to react when he named the fee he intended to charge for taking this assignment.
He predicted her attitude toward him would change drastically when she was asked to pay his price.
“Very well, I’ll bunk here if that’s what you want,” he acquiesced.
“Good. I’m glad we don’t have to waste time arguing over that issue.” She pivoted around to fetch her nightgown and a clean set of clothes from the marble-top dresser and intricately carved wardrobe closet.
“As for your fee, I don’t know how you prefer to conduct business. Am I to pay a partial sum now and the remainder later?” She clutched the pile of clothes to her chest, then strode up in front of him. “I have cash on hand, but if it isn’t enough I will make a withdrawal from the bank tomorrow.”
Lone Wolf stared down into her vibrant green eyes and watched the lantern light gleam on that mass of shiny gold hair. She was cooperation and good cheer right now, but that was about to change.
“Name your price,” she offered generously.
“I will take this assignment,” he affirmed. “But if I’ve learned nothing else in life it is that there is always a catch.”
She shrugged, unconcerned. “My brother is still alive and you’re here to make sure he stays that way. Whatever this catch is, I’m sure Adam and I will abide by it.” She smiled wryly. “Unless you want the deed to our property in exchange. Which, incidentally, is what I think Sol Griffin ultimately wants. But he is not going to get it and neither are you.”
“I will forgo the usual traveling fee since I’ll be staying here. But I insist on marriage. The pretense of it. With you,” he stated firmly and succinctly. “Or the public announcement of our betrothal at the very least.”
Sure enough, her eyes popped and her jaw sagged on its hinges. The clothes she had clutched in her arm dropped to the toes of her boots.
“That is the catch, Julia.” He stared challengingly at her. “Take it or leave it.”
He knew she couldn’t possibly understand his reasoning and he wasn’t in the habit of explaining himself to anyone. She hadn’t a clue what had prompted his unexpected stipulation and he was anxious to hear her response. He was forcing her to put her noble ideals on the line. Right here. Right now. She claimed that she didn’t judge a man by his mixed heritage and less-than-respectable occupation.
This was the decisive moment when he found out if she meant what she said. He really expected her to fail the test.
She stood there staring up at him so intently that he felt the urge to squirm. She sized him up for a long moment then frowned. No doubt, she was trying to figure his angle.
“A pretend marriage. To me,” she repeated pensively. “That’s the catch?”
“Yes,” he confirmed with a sharp nod.
She cocked her head, appraising him from another angle. “Just what is the reason behind this?”
“Smart as you are, you’ll figure it out for yourself after you’ve given it some thought.”
“You’re giving me too much credit.”
No, he gave her all she deserved. He’d seen her in several telling situations tonight and she’d held up remarkably well. “You’re bright and you’re gutsy and that counts for a lot in my book,” he said.
“Am I? Did you notice that between the humiliating moments while I was ranting, desperate and bawling my head off?”
He shrugged lackadaisically. “That was just about letting off steam. You were entitled.”
He waited while she mulled over his request. He couldn’t help but wonder how she saw him. Half-civilized? Unattractive? Unworthy of the pretense of a romantic involvement with her? Just what did Julia Preston see while she was looking him over so critically?
Not that he cared, of course. He was just curious.
Julia bent at the waist to scoop up her clothes, then tossed him another contemplative glance. “I’m assuming that I will have the night to consider this stipulation.” She arched a challenging brow. “A woman shouldn’t be too hasty when accepting or declining a marriage proposal, should she?”
She didn’t mention that she had rejected the last three proposals in two minutes flat.
“The pretense of marriage,” he corrected quickly.
“Or the announcement of a betrothal.”
“At the very least.”
She ambled to the door, then glanced back at him. “If you were one of the three suitors who asked for my hand recently, I would know your angle immediately.”
“Only three?” His thick brow arched. With her brains, beauty and wealth, he would have guessed more.
A mischievous grin pursed her lips. “According to my suitors, I’m not society’s traditional female. Much too unconventional when it comes to fashion,” she added as she gestured toward her attire. “Too headstrong and willful. And that was the catch they hadn’t counted on.” She stared pointedly at him. “Beware, Lone Wolf, you might get more than you bargained for.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He chuckled, finding that he enjoyed negotiating with