Dangerous love

Risky

Irene ignored the collective sound of astonishment that one

from the men behind her; her attention remained fixed on Travis Grant. He regarded her with speculative, grey-green eyes

that revealed nothing.

"I don't remember when I've received such an ... unusual business proposition," he said.

Irene hid her humiliation, wrapping that formidable Reyes pride around her like a cloak. She'd used a reckless ploy to

catch his interest; now she would find out exactly what kind of man he was.

"Do you find my proposal interesting?"

"Interesting, yes. And risky."

"If you don't like risk, you shouldn't oppose Joel Robertson."

"Touché, madam," he said with a grin.

"Send her away, Travis," snarled the blond woman.

"Don't be rude, Sofia," he said evenly, as though things like this happened every day. "Mrs Robertson is our guest."

"Don't you know who she is?" Sofia demanded. "Didn't you hear about her? Why, people say that once she ran through her husband's fortune, she started bedding almost anyone with the money to keep her in clothes and jewellery,"

Irene retreated into that quiet place inside herself, the one she'd created to shield her soul from the torment of her life with Noel. Nothing could touch her there, not insults nor threat

"You forget yourself, Sofia," Travis said. His tone hadn't changed, but his gaze had turned flinty,

"Is that what you want?" she cried, pointing at Irene, "She might look like a lady, but she's nothing more than an expensive w***e,"

Travis slammed his fist down on the table with enough force to make the plates jump. "Enough!"

"You'll be sorry you ever met her!" Sofia's voice broke as tears began to roll down her cheeks, "She'll squeeze you dry, Travis Grant, just as she did her poor husband, Mark my words!"

She swiped her whiskey glass from the table, then whírled and stalked out.

Travis didn't watch her go; his gaze was riveted on Irene Robertson. She stood unmoving and unmoved, her face remote.

He yearned to touch her, perhaps make her come alive for him alone.

"I'm sorry," he said. “I had no idea she would say such a thing."

Irene looked up. "It was my fault for not giving more thought to her feelings."

"Sofia has no hold on me."

Suddenly conscious of his men's avid stares, he held out his hand. "Mrs Robertson, I think we'd best continue our, ah, negotiations in private."

A few of the men snickered. Irene ignored them, even as she ignored her dread. She stepped past Grant's outstretched hand and headed for the door behind him.

She found herself in a richly furnished sitting room. Warm shades of burgundy dominated the chamber, with touches of

gold and cream. A thick Persian carpet cushioned her feet, and flames leaping the fireplace. She stopped in the centre of the

room, well away from the large, comfortable-looking sofa.

Behind her, she could feel him moving about, although the

walked too silently to be heard

"Do I frighten you, Mrs Robertson

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you look as though you expect me to leap upon you like some wild beast."

His tones were as warm as the room and tinged with amusement. She turned toward him, clasping her hands in front of

her to hide their trembling. Truly, she thought, he was a beautiful man, strong and straight, his skin and hair gleaming bronze in the firelight. And yes, he did look rather like a beast just now, a tawny lion of a man whose eyes burned with desire,

It did frighten her, knowing that he wanted her.

"About that bargain," he said.

"It's a simple enough barter."

His lips curved upward. "I doubt anything about you is simple, Mrs Robertson."

"Must you call me that?"

"Does it bother you?"

It did. But she turned inward, where he couldn't see. "it seems inappropriate under the circumstances."

Travis studied her, wishing he could reconcile her eyes with her reputation. Strange that a woman of such notoriety

should have qualms about a prospective lover calling her by her married name. She piqued him, attracted him, and irritated

him at the same time; he preferred uncomplicated women, those easily understood and easily set aside.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked,

He blinked, "You're a very beautiful woman."

"That is not a factor in my value to you," she countered to be business.

Again, she astonished him. "Touché again," he said. "So it's "It was never anything else." But she couldn't help but notice the firm curve of his bottom lip, and the creases that bracketed his mouth. So, he was also a man who could laugh. That doesn't mean he'll be less cruel to you. True enough

"Very well," he said. “Business it shall be. Why don't we sit?”

Irene hesitated, then chose the big wing chair nearest the door. Clasping her hands in her lap, she waited with outward

composure as he walked around her before moving onto the sofa. He sat down, relaxing his big, lean body into a seemingly

indolent sprawl that didn't fool her for a moment.

“I'm sorry to have interrupted your evening," she said.

He waved his hand in a careless gesture. "My men work hard, and deserve a bit of fun for their trouble."

"True. But I doubt many business owners would offer their own homes for the celebration."

"I've never played by the rules, Mrs Robertson." His gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth, then back again. “You were

born into privileged circumstances?"

"Yes. My father was a Vale, my mother a William.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “A very closed circle, the one from which you come."

“Our families were among the first to settle here,” she said.

"We've known one another for many generations, and share a common way of life. We don't often reach outside of those

boundaries."

Travis watched her, wishing he could see behind those calm, guarded eyes. She'd been born to a noble family and married

into a still nobler one. What would she think, he wondered, if he told her his mother had been a mistress, his father Mr Charles?

"Why have you come to me instead of appealing to one of your own?" His tone was harsh, harsher than he'd intended.

"Because they will not help me."

"Why not?”

She met his gaze levelly. “You know why not."

Irene regarded her with narrowed eyes. So, decent people wouldn't have her. That was why she came to him, thinking

he would be less fastidious. Even knowing this, he wanted her with an intensity he'd never felt for another woman. It made him

angry and made him harsher than he intended to be.