A Thoroughly Compromised Lady Read Free

Calisto Ortiz, of the Venezuelan diplomatic delegation. I had the good fortune to meet him at a Royal Geographic Society dinner a few days ago. Señor , allow me to present Viscount Wainsbridge.’
    The Spaniard bowed smoothly and introduced two other gentlemen in turn, a Señor Adalberto Vargas, who was clearly the august leader of the delegation, and SeñorDias, whose mediocre clothing clearly marked him as the hanger-on.
    Ortiz was all handsome manners and Jack disliked him immediately. Younger than his Venezuelan counter parts by over a decade, darkly handsome with inky hair, and expensively dressed, Calisto Ortiz radiated a rather obvious appeal of the kind women found charming. He did not endear himself to Jack further when he turned that charm on Dulci.
    For tonight, he’d tolerated enough of the man’s covert ogling of Dulci’s bosom, as deliciously displayed as it was in the tight bodice of her gown. Like recognised like, and Jack recognised Ortiz to be a womaniser of the highest order.
    It was time to throw down the gauntlet, in the politest of fashions, of course. A little competition always brought one’s true colours to light and he did not expect Ortiz to prove the exception to the rule. Instead he fully expected Ortiz to prickle in response to a few well-placed remarks. It wasn’t Jack’s job to make friends. His orders were very clear: take the measure of the delegation. There wasn’t a single word mentioned about befriending them.
    Jack inserted himself into the general conversation during a lull, casually launching his first sally. ‘Señor Ortiz, como le gusta Londres ?’
    His fluent command of the language had the desired effect. Ortiz looked momentarily surprised at hearing Spanish. Jack wanted him to be surprised and warned. The Venezuelans might be thou sands of miles from home and those who knew the territory, but the English were not without their re sources here. The Venezuelanswould not be dealing with London-based politicians ignorant of the New World’s geography.
    Ortiz favoured him with a cold smile. ‘I assure you my English is quite fluent.’ His terse answer imbued a level of tension into the group. Touchy young man, Jack thought, to be so thoroughly insulted on the acquaintance of six words.
    â€˜Je parle français, aussi,’ Ortiz went on, his steely gaze fixed intently on Jack.
    â€˜Très bien. J’aime parler français,’ Jack smoothly switched into French. He could play this game for a while if Ortiz was so inclined. He might not have the formal degrees of a polyglot scholar, but Jack could bed a woman in six different languages.
    Señor Vargas intervened swiftly. ‘Señor Ortiz has been educated at the finest of schools. He’s the nephew of one of the viceroys posted to our region.’
    â€˜Ah,’ Jack exclaimed with all the appreciation he could summon. Señor Ortiz’s role in the delegation was becoming clearer. ‘Are you considered to hold an official diplomatic post, then?’
    His enquiry hit the mark. It was petty gratification to see the handsome man’s smile fade into a grim line. ‘I’m an ombudsman.’
    â€˜I see. That’s quite an impressive title .’ Jack’s steely tone conveyed the rest of the message to Ortiz. They both knew an ombudsman operated in a limited capacity. The title was honorary at best, a sop to one’s ego.
    Ortiz’s dark eyes flashed dangerously. Jack answered with a cool smile. The man fully under stood his allusion and had the good grace to be insulted. But the flare in his eyes suggested he did not have the good grace to be defeated. Ortiz would bear watching. His tempersuggested he was a man quick to anger, quick to take impulsive actions that might later be regretted.
    Dulci placed a hand on Jack’s sleeve. ‘It is time for that dance you promised me.’
    Jack gave her easy compliance. There was no