“I do. I know why you wish to reform, and I understand your desire to keep the appearance of such. I have no need to expose myself.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “My lord, may I be frank with you?”
He halted and spun to face her. “You haven’t been thus far?”
She leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs, though her mother said it was not ladylike. But Josie was wearing trousers and a man’s coat. What was the point of being ladylike now? “I have been forthright to a point,” Josie told him. “I am eighteen, and I am ready for my life to begin. I am ready to take a lover, and I thought you might suit.”
He blinked at her. “What in bloody hell gave you that idea? We’re enemies.”
“Precisely! No emotional attachment. No chance of a marriage proposal. Really, Lord Westman, can you think of a woman who would make a less suitable bride for you than me?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go.” She folded her arms triumphantly over her chest.
“Oh, no, we don’t.” He leaned his hands on his desk, palms spread over the documents. “Just because you offer to be my mistress doesn’t mean I have to agree. I don’t want or need a mistress.”
Josie sighed. “You have one already. Don’t you?”
Oh, now why hadn’t she considered that possibility? She was much too impulsive by far. She should have spied on him for several days instead of leaping over here at the first chance she had.
He opened his mouth then, appearing speechless, shook his head. “That’s not your concern. Not to mention, a lady like you has no business talking of lovers. You should be looking for a husband.”
Josie yawned and waved her hand. “Oh, now you’re being tiresome. I don’t want to be told what to do.”
“That’s too bad because you obviously have need of a great deal of guidance. What are you about, sneaking into my house, offering to be my mistress? If your parents knew—”
Josie clutched the threadbare arms of the chair. “Leave my parents out of this. They know I am not a conventional miss, and they long ago ceased giving me advice I don’t need.”
Well, her father had anyway.
“Perhaps I should have a word with them.” Josie’s heart skipped. Her mother would murder her, slowly and painfully, if she knew Josie had even looked at Westman. To cover her fear, Josie laughed. “You speak to my parents?” her laugh was brittle. “Oh, yes, because you are the paragon of wisdom and good sense. I came to you because I thought you were the kind of man who could appreciate a woman like me. I did not come to be lectured and scolded.” She rose.
“Then I am afraid you have sorely misjudged me.”
“Obviously.” She moved back toward the window. Just like a man to prefer lecturing to lovemaking. And now how was she supposed to get hold of the map? Angry and more than a little embarrassed, she made one last swipe at him. “But before you pass judgment on me, take a look at yourself. Who are you to give me advice? Your family is so deep in debt that I’m surprised you haven’t fled to the Continent yet.”
He jerked to attention and glared at her. “Who the bloody hell are you? What do you know about it?”
“I know plenty, and if you’d been nice, I might even have helped you.”
“You? You help me?” He was coming toward her now, his long legs making quick work of the distance between them. Josie thought about ducking back out the window. She still had time to get away.
On the other hand, she rather liked the flash of his blue eyes and the color temper brought to his cheeks. Perhaps she should stay put just to see what happened. But he approached so fast, her instinct for self-preservation took over and she backed up until she felt the hard, flat wall graze her shoulder blades.
And still Westman came closer, stopping only when his face was mere inches from her own. He imprisoned her, one hand on either side of her neck. Josie felt her pulse kick and the heat flood into her face. Or perhaps it was his heat that was making her so warm. He was so close she could smell the sweet brandy on his breath and feel the tension radiating from his legs and chest.
“And how exactly is a little girl like you going to help me?”
“I—I—”
He shot her a pitying look and stepped back. “Get out.”
But Josie wasn’t going anywhere. “You don’t scare me,” she said. “Nor do you intimidate me. Is that the best you can do?”
“Stick around and find out.” The contemptuous look in his eyes let her know he thought she’d run if he said boo!
“Very well, then,” she spat, half out of anger and half from too much pride, “Mock me, but you’ll never know if the treasure could have saved you.”
He frowned. “Treasure? What treasure?”
