Don't Bargain with the Devil Read Free Page B

you know I’m more than twenty years old.”
     
His eyes seemed to mock her. “Ah, then you are clearly a woman of the world. My mistake.”
     
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m certainly worldly enough to tell when a man is trying to turn me up sweet for his own purposes.”
     
Some unreadable emotion swept his angular features. “And what purposes would those be?”
     
“I have no clue.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”
     
“Very well, if you must know, I am the new tenant at Rockhurst.”
     
Pure shock kept her motionless. “Oh, dear,” she murmured, mortified anew.
     
Laughter glinted in his gaze. “So you see, Seńorita Schoolteacher, you are the intruder. I saw you from the window upstairs as I was dressing and came down to learn who was invading my property.” He reached up to pluck a leaf from her disordered hair. “Now will you allow me the pleasure of your name?”
     
Definitely not. For one thing, just the brush of his fingers over her hair had already quickened her pulse most dangerously. For another, it would be a great deal easier for him to complain of her to Mrs. Harris if he knew her name. “I-I didn’t think the house was even habitable.”
     
“It will suffice until I decide if I want to buy the estate.”
     
But weren’t conjurers nomads, living in inns and lodging houses? He was too young to retire, and even London theaters couldn’t pay well enough for him to afford a property the size of Rockhurst. “What would you do with it?”
     
His gaze grew shuttered. “It depends.”
     
Something in his evasive manner sparked her concern. “On what?”
     
“Whether it and its environs meet my stringent requirements.”
     
Its environs? Did he mean the school? “What sort of requirements? Surely, once it is put into shape, Rockhurst would be sufficient for your family.”
     
“I am not married.” He cocked his head, dropping one raven lock over his eye, then smoothed it back with the nonchalance of a man sure of his exotic appeal. “And you? Does your position as a teacher mean you have no husband?”
     
She caught herself before answering. “Why are you avoiding my question?”
     
“For the same reason you are avoiding mine, I would imagine.” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “To prolong this intriguing conversation.”
     
A laugh bubbled up inside her that she struggled to tamp down. “Actually, I find it less intriguing than frustrating. You are purposely being mysterious.”
     
“As are you, Seńorita Schoolteacher. Indeed, your reluctance to divulge your identity fascinates me.” He bent his head close enough that she caught a whiff of soap and hair oil. “You stand in my orchard and interrogate me bold as brass, yet you will not tell me something as small as your name. Are you hiding a secret? Acting as a spy?” Seeing the smile rise to her lips despite her struggle to prevent it, he lowered his voice to a throaty murmur. “Waiting for a lover, perhaps?”
     
She jerked back as an unfamiliar heat rose in her cheeks. Good Lord, did she give off some scent that led people to make assumptions about her character?
     
Then again, he had found her shamelessly lolling about on the ground of his orchard. She would have to set him straight.
     
“That’s a very impertinent suggestion, sir,” she answered in her loftiest tone. “Especially when we haven’t been properly introduced.”
     
A slow smile curved up his finely carved lips. “And do such trivialities matter to you, carińo? ”
     
Carińo? Oh, but that was too wicked of him. Her Spanish was rusty, but she did remember that carińo was an endearment. A trill of pleasure skirled along her nerves. He should never have used it with her, whether he thought she understood it or not. And she certainly shouldn’t let it do funny things to her insides.
     
She answered sharply, “This is not the Continent, sir. ‘Such trivialities’ matter to everyone in England. So if you hope for success in