Tycoon Read Free

amount of work and his less-than-fashionable clothing, he did not strike her as a wealthy bon vivant or captain of industry. Certainly not someone who could afford to lease a private rail car. His company must have paid for his accommodations, she guessed.
    After a stretch, her curiosity got the better of her. “Are you a salesman of some kind?”
    For some reason, this seemed to amuse him, though he kept the focus on his work. “Yes, something like that.”
    â€œI said you may call me Clara, but you never told me your name.”
    â€œTed. You may use that name as well. There’s no need to be formal when it’s just the two of us.”
    Ted Harper. She liked that name. He looked like a Ted. Hardworking, industrious. A man who said what he meant and meant what he said.
    At Hoyt’s, she could usually tell what a customer would buy just from their name. Someone with a common, practical name, like John or Mary, tended to purchase perfume without even smelling the bottle. Then there were the odd names, like Orpha or Erline, who tested every perfume until landing on the precise one.
    But those with formidable, smart names would stop, describe the person for whom they were buying the perfume, and ask Clara’s opinion on the scent. She liked those people best of all.
    â€œHave you ever bought perfume?” she asked Ted casually.
    His head snapped up, and he pierced her with a confused stare. “Good God, no. Why?”
    â€œNo reason. Just wondering is all.”
    â€œIs there any chance you could stop wondering? About anything? Or at least refrain from wondering aloud?”
    Her hands went up in apology. He must be concentrating very hard on his work. Clara didn’t want to distract or irritate him, since he’d been so charitable. “I will try not to interrupt.”
    â€œWhy don’t you freshen up for dinner? We’ll head to the dining saloon as soon as they attach it in Poughkeepsie.”
    She turned toward the window instead, content to watch New York, as well as her troubles, disappear.

Chapter Two
    Remarkable. The woman had not a change of clothing, nothing to do, no personal effects of any kind. Not a penny to her name and someone chasing her about New York City. And not once had she broken down in tears or even complained.
    Damned impressive, Ted thought. He’d never had a sham wife before, but he was grateful this one wasn’t of the hysterical variety.
    Perhaps she truly was a swindler. Hard to believe she’d approached him on the platform by chance. He was a man who dealt in numbers, in facts. Had since he was a boy. So odds were she had not plucked him out of the crowd at random.
    That hardly mattered. As long as she played her part tonight, he didn’t care about her intentions. Many had tried to cheat Theodore Harper over the years and each one had failed.
    As they entered the dining saloon, he couldn’t help but notice how her patterned brown dress hugged her slim curves. The long, graceful arms and small waist, with hips that rocked back and forth, mesmerizing him. Do not think about her hips. Not when they had to sleep in the same enclosed space—alone—for two nights.
    He’d tried his damnedest to ignore her the hour before dinner and failed. Neglecting her proved impossible. Between her loud red hair and even louder personality, she caught his attention . . . even when she remained silent.
    Along the length of the dining car, bench seats faced one another, tables between them. Waiters dressed in black suits hurried by with trays of drinks and plates of food. Ted and Clara were shown to where the Webbers, their dinner companions, had already been seated.
    Erik Webber rose as they approached. “Good evening, Mr. Harper. I didn’t realize you would have a guest with you.”
    Ted shook his hand. “Yes, I’ve brought my fiancée, Miss Dobson.” They had decided to introduce Clara as his betrothed,