Leisurely, he propped his long legs on the planks that formed the top of the improvised table and crossed his feet at the ankles. If his posture was any indication, the enemy was issuing his challenge. She was more than willing to engage the opposing forces, provided she had the right ammunition. And that meant outwitting him.
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SHE TOOK A MOMENT TOgather her thoughts, allowing her gaze to roam the tack room from the saddles to the harnesses, all gleaming from the grooms’ religious care.
Every inch of her—down to the smallest pore and hair follicle—was uncomfortably aware that he watched her.
It seemed he was always watching her. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he’d placed the table on which he’d propped his feet facing the window an unobstructed view of the hospital. Far too convenient for coincidence, Francesca thought. If nothing else, he was vigilant in his self-appointed task of protecting her.
And she appreciated that vigilance. She really did. But therewasa limit.
Releasing the reins she held, she turned to him and accidentally jounced the table with her hip. With the addition of the temporary desk the tack room was crowded. Just what she needed, considering his presence alone crowded a room. But she would try not to think of that now.
She took a step back, mustering her resolve and her indignation. “I spoke with my parents after we parted this morning.” She kept her voice level. He merely blinked, his amber eyes unreadable. “I understand you’ve proposed a betrothal ball.”
“You don’t approve.” It was a statement, and he followed it with an indifferent wave.
She prickled with annoyance at his apparent lack of concern but forced herself to give him an icy smile. “A lady might hope to be consulted on the matter of her own betrothal ball.” She stepped to the edge of the plank serving as his desk, forgetting she’d wanted to keep some distance between them.
“It’s my task to find your attacker. I’ll decide how to go about it. All you need do is cooperate.” Across from her, he locked his hands behind his neck and leaned back in the chair.
As if that was an acceptable response! She narrowed her eyes. Time to send in the infantry. Let him know she wasn’t always so sweet and biddable. She moved around the edge of the desk, stood next to him and braced her hands on the plank.
“All I need do is cooperate?” She said each word slowly and with emphasis. His mouth quirked, a small tick she wouldn’t have caught if she hadn’t been so close, so intent on his face. She glared at him, hoping the effect was menacing. “Are youtryingto humiliate me?”
He didn’t speak for a moment, and he didn’t look away. In his gold-flecked stare she saw something flicker, a flash of anger in his amber eyes. She wondered, too late, if perhaps a temporary retrenchment and reformulation of strategy might be advisable.
Before she could step away, he put a hand over hers. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Heat shot through her skin where he touched her, and she inhaled sharply. Her hand looked small and pale against the bronzed corded flesh of his muscular forearms. Staring at his strong hand and feeling his warmth against her, she wanted to give in. How could shenotwant this man to protect her?
Then she remembered the ball. “You’ll have to think of another way. My reputation—”
His thumb moved in a circle on the back of her hand and her thoughts went muzzy for a moment.
“Your reputation will not be damaged. You will call off the wedding after you catch mein flagrante delicto. Everyone will take your side.”
“In flagrante...” Her muddled brain was slow to comprehend. “Oh. Oh!” She tried to snatch her hand away, but he had it neatly trapped. “Is there no other way to catch the attacker?”
He leaned forward, the material of his shirt grazing her fingers. “The ball gives me the advantage. And Francesca?”
She looked into his eyes, now more brown than golden.
“I prefer the advantage.”
For a moment she could only stare at him. It wasn’t until he leaned back that she caught her breath again.
“It’s a mistake to allow the man who assaulted you to choose the battlefield,” he said. “So far he’s picked the time and place.”
“And you think my attacker will be foolish enough to make an appearance at a ball filled with hundreds of people?”
He gave her a hard stare. “He’ll find a way to be there.”
She tried to ignore the tingles coursing along her flesh from the feel of Ethan’s warm hand on hers, tried not to notice how good it felt to touch him—her skin against his.
“How do you know? Did one of the servants see something?” Her voice was husky, made more so when she looked into his dark, liquid gaze. She was falling under his sensuous spell again.
“No. But the timing of Nat’s attack last night is such that he must have attacked while we were together in the hospital. There’s a chance he’s still nearby and keeping watch.” As Ethan spoke, he lifted her hand, drew her closer. “I think he was after you last night. He won’t give up an opportunity to be near you.”
