“I would not give you the satisfaction.”
“Well, that is disappointing.” He lifted his glass and took a drink, then set it down before him. “Now, what’s all this about? What has spurred this sudden distrust?”
“Everything about this night.” She indulged in another draught of wine, then dabbed her mouth with her serviette.
“You believe I’ve something in mind other than recovering my father’s treasure?”
“Absolutely.”
“And yet, you’ve offered no rationale that led you to this conclusion.”
“Is that truly necessary?” She held his piercing gaze. “You have made a mockery of this process.”
“Am I to understand I’ve wounded your spirit guide’s tender feelings? In that case, please be good enough to offer Esme my apologies so we might get on with the evening’s agenda.”
Despite his earnest tone, an almost boyish amusement brightened his sapphire eyes. By Minerva’s garter, the man was impossible.
“Esme has certainly indicated her displeasure with your attitude, but I am speaking for myself.”
“So, you do not believe I was truthful about my intentions. In that case, what do you think I wished to accomplish in bringing you to this place?” He leaned closer, those clever blue eyes of his narrowing as if in scrutiny. “Do you believe this was an attempt at seduction?”
Seduction.On his lips, the word seemed an undeniable temptation. Something in his tightly controlled voice unleashed a tendril of heat through her core.
“No,” she said truthfully. “I’d considered that possibility, but a man—much less a man who possesses your wealth and vigor—would not need to go to such lengths to persuade a woman to warm his bed.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. There’s no telling what a man would do to coax a beauty like you between his sheets.”
Sophie resisted the urge to look away, to focus her attention on something far less enticing than Stanwyck’s sly smile. No, she would not let him rattle her composure. At least, she would not let him see how well he’d succeeded.
She pulled in a breath, regarding him with the same dispassionate expression she’d perfected while interviewing high-browed socialites about their latest Parisian finery for theLadies’ Pages.
“I’ve little use for flattery. As for tempting a woman into a passionate encounter, I presume you’ve had ample experience in the matter. Judging from the talk about town, it seems reasonable to conclude that you are somewhat of an expert on the subject.”
He shrugged. “Ah, the gossips do love to speculate now, don’t they?”
“I am a modern woman, Professor Stanwyck. I know when a man is intent on sensual persuasion. Your actions at the hotel seemed a spontaneous gesture, not a calculated strategy, much less the tactics of a man well versed in seduction.”
“Well, then, you’ve figured me out. I won’t deny it. Kissing you was an act of impulse rather than deliberation. Should I regret taking that small liberty?”
“I am no worse for the experience. If you’ve convinced yourself my uneasiness is the result of some perceived threat to my virtue, you’re mistaken.”
“Good to know,” he said with a lightness that failed to reach his eyes. “Now, shall we get on with our chat with Esme? I presume the old gal is still hanging about.”
Did the man truly believe she’d be so easy to manipulate? She’d set him off base, just a bit. The tense set of his jaw betrayed that she’d gotten under his skin. She’d stay the course. For now, at least.
“Seeking contact with your father is no longer an option. Not tonight. Esme demands implicit, mutual trust.”
He leaned back against his chair and regarded her over steepled fingers. “So, do you care to inform me what has stirred this unexpected distrust? I do not tolerate false accusations, even from someone who’s been dead for a century or two.”
She straightened her spine. If he thought to intimidate her, he would find out he was mistaken. “No accusations have been leveled against you, neither by Esme nor myself.”
“Then what is the blasted problem? I’ve no patience for games.” His voice was low and even, but a hint of exasperation colored his tone. Good. Perhaps she was close to breaking through his cool facade, to uncovering some hint of his true purpose in seeking out Trask. She’d press him a bit more. She’d speak the truth, though crafted to suit her own purposes. And then, she’d put this charade to rest before he sabotaged her disguise and her mission.
“You’ve offered no reason for trust. I have tried to reconcile your remarks with your intent to lay claim to some lost family treasure—an heirloom that may or may not exist. I will not be drawn into a maddening goose chase. What is it you truly seek?”
Stanwyck went silent, appearing to mull her question.
“Goose chase, is it?”
