Burke's Rules. Pat Tracy
you take this kind of interest in all Denver’s fledgling businesses,” she pressed determinedly.
“I’d be lying if I said so,” he admitted. “Do you always know the reasons behind everything you do?”
“Of course. One can’t blunder through life.”
“Ah, so I’m dealing with a woman of logic.”
“You’re dealing with a woman who wants to know why you’re willing to invest time, effort and money on her behalf.”
“I assume the suspiciousness I’m detecting is based upon your late aunt’s dire warnings about accepting favors from men.”
“Aunt Euphemia’s philosophy about the male gender has nothing to do with this. Credit me with enough intelligence to recognize you could very well have an ulterior motive for assisting me. I have no intention of placing myself under your influence without knowing what you expect in return.”
Jayne knew she was pink-cheeked, but she needed to know what lay behind his sudden desire to help.
“I approve of your cautious attitude. A number of men might expect certain favors in exchange for their help. A wise woman pays attention to such things. I assure you, though, I have no ulterior motives.”
His eyes held an almost whimsical expression that weakened her resolve to challenge him. She was amazed by the degree of energy it took to withstand his charm. “Trust has to be earned.”
“Life’s taught me the same lesson,” he said quietly. “The reason I’m willing to put my resources at your disposal are twofold. First, I have this character quirk of rooting for underdogs.”
Even though she fit the description, she didn’t appreciate being compared to a four-legged animal. “There has to be more to it than that.”
“There are dozens of businesses I’ve supported through their uncertain beginnings. My basis for consideration is that the owner be absolutely committed to his course and willing to pour all his time and energy into his enterprise. You possess that determination, correct?”
She stared at him, trying to gauge whether his offer carried hidden strings. She was uneasy at accepting his help and just as uneasy about losing it. “There’s nothing I want more than to establish my school.”
He nodded. “I thought as much.”
“I want to make it clear, though, that ours is to be a strictly business relationship. I’ll repay all monies advanced, with interest.”
His eyes held an alarming gleam. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“About my spending the night in a hotel.” She would resist any unreasonable authority he chose to exert. “I have no intention of—”
Two gunshots fired in quick succession startled a shriek from her: Only when Burke’s arms closed around her did she realize she’d hurled herself at him. His scent, at once familiar and mysterious, teased her senses. The security of his embrace, unwelcome as it was, had her heart hammering against her ribs. No, it was the sound of gunfire that had her palpitating.
“You were saying?”
His deep voice rumbled in her ears. It became imperative to return some distance between them. She pulled free. He made no effort to restrain her.
“I was saying that I have no intention of staying more than a couple of nights at a hotel. Since I’m repaying all the money you’re advancing me against my uncle’s bank draft, I refuse to squander my limited resources.”
“Again, I applaud your wisdom.”
She looked for a sign of amusement in his gaze, but found it unreadable. “I would appreciate your waiting downstairs while I gather my things.”
“I’ve seen ladies’ unmentionables before.”
“Such comments will end our association before it begins.”
He shrugged. The casual gesture was at odds with the subtle tension he radiated. She looked into his eyes and wished she could be blessed with the ability to read his mind. Was he as he portrayed himself, a banker and businessman, interested only in helping her establish her school? Or did he hope to extract a hidden payment from her in the future?
A shiver stole down her spine. She couldn’t pretend that feeling his strong arms close around her moments before had been a loathsome experience. His rugged masculinity touched something inescapably feminine within her.
“Only time will prove whether you can trust me.” He moved to the doorway, then paused, looking over his shoulder. “I’ll wait downstairs.”
Left to her confused thoughts and the mayhem floating up from the street, Jayne resisted the impulse to call out that she’d changed her mind. Only a fool would reject Burke Youngblood’s help.
She fetched the valise she’d stored beneath her bed, deciding she felt like the sovereign of a small kingdom forced to accept aid from a more powerful principality. If she wasn’t careful, her borders would be breached and her authority to act usurped. It was a history lesson she’d taught countless times.
It didn’t take long to pack her personal things. Descending the stairs, she was struck by the unpalatable realization that Burke had gotten his way without resorting to force. He’d used logic to sway her. Logic and the sound of blasting guns.
I think I could be in a bit of trouble, Aunt Euphemia.
How did one deal with a man of power and remarkable persuasiveness who’d mastered the skills of applied charm and reason?
Very carefully, a distant voice seemed to caution.
Chapter Five
It wasn’t surrender. By linking forces with her pushy benefactor, she was exercising good sense. Jayne joined Burke at the bottom of the stairs. Burke... It unnerved her at how quickly she’d begun to think of him by his first name.
“That didn’t take long,” he observed, hardly more than a shadow in the muted light provided by a single low-burning oil lamp. He stepped forward. “I’ll take that for you.”
He reached for the valise. She was tempted to make an issue of carrying it herself. True wisdom, however, lay in knowing which battles to wage with the overbearing banker. She released the handle without comment.
His palm curved around her elbow as he guided her to the door. “Do you have the key?”
“Of course,” she replied, resenting being treated like a child.
“Wait here while I douse the lamp.”
Evidently giving orders was as natural to him as breathing.
Moments later a cloak of darkness claimed the room’s interior. Sufficient light from an outside street lamp filtered through the front windows and glass door panels. He had no difficulty making his way back to her. His unerring approach had her fumbling to get the key in the lock. She attributed her uncustomary awkwardness to his disembodied presence and the almost palpable tension he projected. Mentally, she commanded the stubborn key to turn.
There was an audible click. In the room’s subsequent stillness, her sigh of relief was clearly heard. A strong arm came around her, crowding her into a tiny pocket of space. It took a half second to comprehend that he was turning the knob and shoving open the door. In that minuscule fragment of time, her heart stopped beating, and her stomach curled into a tight ball.
She couldn’t get across the threshold quickly enough. It did nothing for her peace of mind to realize her knees had been reduced to insubstantial globs of melted butter. She wanted him to cease his disturbing behavior, but she didn’t know precisely what he was doing to annihilate her composure.
Just