The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ Andrew was a very new, very junior waiter at the time. But the letter I sent to his supervisor commending his handling of an embarrassingly inebriated presidential aide helped catapult him to his present exalted position.”

      How could Sarah possibly respond to that? Swept along on a relentless tidal wave, she gripped the phone as the duchess issued final instructions. “Talk to Devon, dearest. Make sure the first weekend in May is satisfactory for him. And tell him I’ll take care of everything.”

      Feeling almost as dazed as she had when Elise Girault’s smarmy ex-lover manhandled her into that white van, Sarah said goodbye. Her meal forgotten, she sat with her phone in hand for long moments. The call to her grandmother had left her more confused, more torn.

      Dev had risked his life for her. And that was after he’d confronted the photographer from Beguile. As angry as he’d been about her magazine stalking him, he’d still raced to her rescue. Then, of course, he’d accused her of being party to the ruse. As much as she wanted to, Sarah couldn’t quite get past the disgust she’d seen in his face at that moment.

      Yet he’d also shown her moments of incredible tenderness in their short time together. Moments of thoughtfulness and laughter and incredible passion. She couldn’t get past those, either.

      Or the fact that she’d responded to him so eagerly. So damned joyously. However they’d met, whatever odd circumstances had thrown them together, Dev Hunter stirred—and satisfied—a deep, almost primal feminine hunger she’d never experienced before.

      The problem, Sarah mused as she paid her check and walked out into the deepening dusk, was that everything had happened so quickly. Dev’s surprise appearance at her office. His bold-faced offer of a deal. Their fake engagement. This trip to Paris. She’d been caught up in the whirlwind since the day Dev had showed up at her office and tilted her world off its axis. The speed of it, the intensity of it, had magnified emotions and minimized any chance to catch her breath.

      What they needed, she decided as she keyed the door to her room, was time and some distance from each other. A cooling-off period, after which they could start over. Assuming Dev wanted to start over, of course. Bracing herself for what she suspected would be an uncomfortable discussion, she picked up the house phone and called his room.

      He answered on the second ring. “Hunter.”

      “It’s Sarah.”

      “I got your message. Did you have a good dinner?”

      She couldn’t miss the steel under the too-polite query. He wasn’t happy that she’d gone to eat without him.

      “I did, thank you. Can you come down to my room? Or I’ll come to yours, if that’s more convenient.”

      “More convenient for what?”

      All right. She understood he was still angry. As Grandmama would say, however, that was no excuse for boorishness.

      “We need to finish the conversation we started earlier,” she said coolly.

      He answered with a brief silence, followed by a terse agreement. “I’ll come to your room.”

      * * *

      Dev thought he’d done a damned good job of conquering his fury over that business with the photographer. Yes, he’d let it get the better of him when he’d accused Sarah’s magazine of staging her own abduction. And yes, he’d come on a little strong earlier this evening when she’d questioned whether he’d hold to his end of their agreement.

      He’d had plenty of time to regret both lapses. She’d seen to that by slipping out of the hotel without him. The brief message she’d left while he was in the shower had pissed him off all over again.

      Now she’d issued a summons in that aristocratic lady-of-the-manor tone. She’d better not try to shove the emerald at him again. Or deliver any more crap about their “arrangement” being over. They were long past the arrangement stage, and she knew it. She was just too stubborn to admit it.

      She’d just have to accept that he wasn’t perfect. He’d screwed up this afternoon by throwing that accusation at her. He’d apologize again. Crawl if he had to. Whatever it took, he intended to make it clear she wasn’t rid of him. Not by a long shot.

      That was the plan, anyway, right up until she opened the door. The mottled purple on her cheek tore the heart and the heat right out of him. Curling a knuckle, he brushed it gently across the skin below the bruise.

      “Does this hurt as bad as it looks?”

      “Not even close.”

      She didn’t shy away from his touch. Dev took that as a hopeful sign. That, and the fact that some of the stiffness went out of her spine as she led him into the sitting area.

      Nor did it escape his attention that she’d cut off the view that had so enchanted her before. The heavy, room-darkening drapes were drawn tight, blocking anyone from seeing out...or in.

      “Would you like a drink?” she asked politely, gesturing to the well-stocked minibar.

      “No, thanks, I’m good.”

      As he spoke, an image on the TV snagged his glance. The sound was muted but he didn’t need it to recognize the amateur video playing across the screen. He’d already seen it several times.

      Sarah noticed what had caught his attention and picked up the remote. “Have you seen the news coverage?”

      “Yeah.”

      Clicking off the TV, she sank into an easy chair and raised a stockinged foot. Her arms locked around her bent knee and her green eyes regarded him steadily.

      “I took your advice and thought more about our...our situation.”

      “That’s one way to describe it,” he acknowledged. “You come to any different conclusions about how we should handle it?”

      “As a matter of fact, I did.”

      Dev waited, wanting to hear her thoughts.

      “I feel as though I jumped on a speeding train. Everything happened so fast. You, me, Paris. Now Grandmama is insisting on...” She broke off, a flush rising, and took a moment to recover. “I was afraid the news services might pick up the kidnapping story, so I called her and tried to shrug off the incident as the work of bumbling amateurs.”

      “Did she buy that?”

      “No.”

      “Smart woman, your grandmother.”

      “You might not agree when I tell you she segued immediately from that to insisting on a May wedding.”

      Well, what do you know? Dev was pretty sure he’d passed inspection with the duchess. Good to have it confirmed, especially since he apparently had a number of hurdles to overcome before he regained her granddaughter’s trust.

      “I repeat, your grandmother’s a smart woman.”

      “She is, but then she doesn’t know the facts behind our manufactured engagement.”

      “Do СКАЧАТЬ