Magnate Read Free Page A

ticker—shared what must be Cavanaugh’s office. The space smelled of cigar, lemon polish, and big business. A thrill slid through her as she imagined the deals and fortunes this room had witnessed.
    â€œColin, leave us,” Cavanaugh said, and a young man stood up from a smaller desk in the corner. He wore round glasses, his eyes curious behind the frames as he hurried to the hall. Lizzie guessed not many ladies had ever crossed into this masculine domain.
    Cavanaugh continued to the stock ticker, which was churning and spitting out a long white strip. He ripped off the paper, returned to her side, and held out the tape. “Read it. The last five updates.”
    Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself into a chair, set down her ledger, and smoothed the thin strip of paper between her fingers. Cavanaugh sat as well, thankfully saving her from craning her neck to see him. “Deere and Company down seven and three-eighths. State Street Corporation up two points. Seneca Textiles down twelve points. PPG Industries up six and one-eighth points. Kimberly-Clark up three and five-eighths.”
    â€œVery good,” he said, though he hardly sounded impressed. “But interpreting the tape is the skill. So tell me, based on what you read, what would you advise your clients to do?”
    She didn’t even need to ponder it. “I would advise them to buy Seneca Textiles.”
    â€œWhy, when they’ve been down steadily since September?”
    â€œBecause Easter is three months away, and in a few days, the ladies will begin ordering their bonnets, dresses, gloves, and the like. I also know that Seneca will soon announce an exclusive agreement to import the same Honiton lace as supplied to Queen Victoria.”
    Cavanaugh glanced away, his brow furrowed. She held utterly still, watching and awaiting his decision. Blunt fingers stroked the rough skin of his jaw, and her attention was drawn to the small indentation in his chin. She imagined tracing it with her finger....
    â€œNot bad, Miss Sloane. Not bad at all. But my answer must still be no.”
    * * *
    Emmett studied her carefully as the news sank in. Christ, she was beautiful. How did a bastard like Will Sloane have such a breathtaking sister?
    In a high-necked, blue-and-white-striped shirtwaist and matching skirt, Miss Sloane possessed a cool, untouchable beauty, the kind far removed from the type of women he usually fraternized with. She had the flawless skin found only in the top tier of society—people who’d never worked, toiled in a field, or sweat in the heat of a steel mill. Emmett felt dirty just sitting across from her.
    Still, his blood stirred all the same. How could it not? Blond hair, perfect poise, slate-gray eyes, the fair Miss Sloane would cause a dead man to sit up and take notice.
    And the way she’d read that ticker tape, with such confidence and skill, had almost knocked him on his ass. He hadn’t met a woman that quick with numbers since Fannie Reid, owner of the most successful bordello in Five Points.
    â€œI’m sorry, you said no?” Her blond brows pinched, and he had the ridiculous urge to smooth his thumb over the tiny creases that dared mar her immaculate forehead. “Why?”
    He forced his gaze to hers. “I said no for two reasons. First, I have no interest in owning an investment firm. And second, while it seems you have a knack for speculating, I cannot see how this is a good idea. I wish you luck, however.”
    Her shoulders went rigid, and he knew he’d offended her. “I have more than a ‘knack.’ Why do you think I will not succeed?”
    How could he explain it to her, that talent only got one so far in business? More important were cunning, a lack of scruples, and an ever-ready supply of favors you could call upon at a moment’s notice. This woman was far too well-bred to play in the street with the other vermin.
    â€œThe world you think to involve