Don't Bargain with the Devil Read Free Page A

gaze slid down her body in an intimate and decidedly wicked perusal. It paused at her breasts before moving to where her gown dipped between herparted legs. After casting her stocking feet a pointed look, he smiled, his thin black mustache quirking up.
     
“A goddess, most assuredly,” he said in faintly accented English. “No local seńorita would walk about without her shoes.”
     
Seńorita? Oh, no. He wasn’t her dream sultan. He was very real. And foreign. And a complete stranger.
     
Belatedly, she scrambled to a sitting position. Lord, what must he think of her? Before she could struggle to stand, he held out his hand. She hesitated half a second before taking it, although the moment she was on her feet, she snatched her hand free.
     
A chuckle escaped him. “I should beg your pardon for disturbing your siesta, but I do not regret it. You make an enchanting picture lying in the cherry blossoms.”
     
His amusement sparked her temper. “Who are you, sir, and why are you on private property?”
     
He arched one finely groomed black brow. “I could ask the same of you.”
     
“I’m a teacher at the school that adjoins this orchard.” She smoothed her skirt, trying to make herself look more teacherly. It was woefully hard to do with her hair tumbled down about her waist.
     
“Ah, yes, the girls’ academy.” He cast her a speculative glance. “But that is what you are, not who. What is your name?”
     
Oh, dear, she wasn’t supposed to be here, and if he were to mention it to Mrs. Harris…“I shan’t give my name to a stranger. Especially when you haven’t given me yours. You are the intruder here.”
     
“Intruder! What a suspicious little thing you are,” hesaid without rancor. “As it happens, you already know my name. It’s on my calling card.”
     
The comment threw her into confusion. “I-I…haven’t seen your calling card. If you left it with our schoolmistress—”
     
“No need to dissemble, seńorita. You have it right there.” He reached up to pull something from behind her ear, then held it out with a flourish.
     
Caught off guard, she took the gilt-edged calling card from him. “How did you…” She trailed off as she read the printed card.
     
Diego Javier Montalvo, Master of Mystery .
     
Master of Mystery? She lifted her gaze to him, seeing nothing in his half-smile to enlighten her. It didn’t sound like anything a normal person would put on a card. It almost sounded like…
     
The truth dawned. “Oh, Lord, you’re a magician.”
     
“Indeed, I am.” He gave her a mock frown. “You don’t seem very pleased to hear it.”
     
Hardly! She had a weakness for magicians—their swirling black capes, their intriguing smiles, their astonishing ability to surprise at every turn. Coupled with her weakness for devastatingly handsome Continental gentlemen, Diego Javier Montalvo was the perfect temptation.
     
But Peter would never eat his words if he learned she’d been flirting with a stranger.
     
“Why is a magician wandering around Rockhurst?” she demanded. As a teacher, she would be most irresponsible if she didn’t find out.
     
“Are you worried I have come to steal your neighbor’s valuables?”
     
“Have you?” she asked archly.
     
That made him grin. “I would hardly tell you if I had.” The words rolled off his tongue melodically, turning her knees to butter.
     
None of that! she chided herself as she glanced about for her shoes, which were nowhere to be seen. You must be responsible. Mature. Not swayed by good-looking men. Not the sort of woman a man only dallies with.
     
“Perhaps I am here to steal something else.” His voice had turned calculating. “The heart of a beautiful lady like you, for example.”
     
She burst into laughter. That sort of nonsense she could handle perfectly well. “Do you rehearse such compliments when you rehearse your tricks? Or do flatteries simply come naturally to you?”
     
He looked genuinely surprised. “You are very jaded for one so young.”
     
“Young! I’ll have