Kane Read Free

things that could embarrass him. Still, he avoided her gaze now, and she had the distinct feeling he disliked having her see his fleeting susceptibility to his grandfather’s disapproval.
    He recovered quickly. “I suppose,” he drawled to the older man, “that your guest has a name?”
    â€œShe does. Miss Dalton, allow me to introduce Kane Benedict, my daughter’s son. He also happens to be my lawyer, and a good one. The lady you’ve been mistreating, Kane, is a visitor from New York. Miss Regina Dalton is here in her capacity as an appraiser of fine jewelry.”
    The man beside Regina turned slowly to face her. His gaze was intent as he took in the indeterminate hazel of her eyes behind turquoise contacts, the disheveled, coppery abundance of her hair, and the scattering of freckles that masked the bridge of her nose.
    â€œA jewelry appraiser,” he repeated in blank disbelief.
    â€œShe was giving me an estimate on the collection left by your grandmother before we were interrupted.”
    â€œIs that what she was doing? And she came all the way from New York for it.” Kane’s firm lips curved in a slow, enigmatic smile. “It explains the accent, at least.”
    Wariness squeezed Regina’s throat as she met hissteady regard. It was habit that made her put her hand to the heavy pendant of Baltic amber that she wore there, still she drew confidence and courage from it.
    She was used to sizing up people at first glance. From both intuition and practice, she was good at estimating their strengths and weaknesses so she could guard against them, keep her distance. This man was different. He had gotten dangerously close before she could throw up her defenses. She didn’t like it.
    He was dangerous, period.
    He was a man who believed in the law he defended, she thought, one who expected the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so-help-you-God. He spent his days with absolutes, guilt or innocence, right or wrong, no excuses allowed. He would cut little slack for someone who feathered the edges of facts, skirted the peripheries of legality. It was all there in the hard lines of his mouth and the razor-edged alertness of his gaze.
    He would make no allowances for someone like her.
    She scrambled away from him, rising to her knees at the coffin’s edge. Lewis Crompton reached out to place a hand under her elbow. Even with his help, however, clambering down in her suit skirt was going to be about as graceful an operation as a toddler escaping its crib.
    â€œWait,” Kane commanded. “I put you in. The least I can do is get you out.”
    â€œYou don’t have to—” Regina began.
    It was too late. As his grandfather stepped back out of the way, Kane put a hand on the high wooden side and vaulted to the floor. Turning at once, he slid one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, then lifted with easy strength. He swung around, lowered her feet. The toes of her sensible pumps touched the floor while she rested against the taut, unyielding body of Lewis Crompton’s grandson.
    She glanced up, and her gaze was snared by the mesmerizing blue of his eyes. His hold was firm, possessive. In his face, marked by the red flare of her handprint on his cheek and the scratch left by her nails across the bridge of his nose, was a host of inclinations only half-suppressed.
    He was a man who knew women, she realized, knew their reactions and weaknesses and wasn’t above using them to make a point. He was well aware of what he was doing to her and deliberately prolonging it. She pushed away at once as she recognized another attempt at intimidation.
    â€œThank you,” she said in tones as cool and measured as she could make them.
    â€œMy pleasure, ma’am.”
    He tilted his head briefly as he released her. That gesture had the same careful courtesy and hint of deferential charm that had so impressed Regina in Kane’s