Page 47 of A Rogue to Ruin
“Because it reminded me of you.” She took another sip. “Just don’t ask me to like caviar, because I don’t think I can do that.”
The merriment in her eyes was intoxicating. It reminded him of a time before things had felt so heavy upon him. Before he’d lowered his defenses too much. It was a fine balance to feel just the right amount—enough to be thrilled but not so much as to become obsessed. He feared he was already on the edge. Or perhaps even past it. “I won’t. The coffee is a delightful surprise.”
She looked down at her cup as she ran her fingertip along the rim. She wore gloves, and they were too large for her hands, so he couldn’t see her femininity. He could in her face, however. The long sweep of her lashes and the plump curve of her lips declared her womanhood. It wasn’t as if he needed to see any of it, for he was all too aware of who she was and the effect she had upon him.
“I know you don’t want to talk about your past,” she said quietly. “At least not today. But will you tell me how you came to help children such as Annie?” She gave him a tentative look, and he wasn’t able to deny the earnest curiosity in her gaze.
He chose his words very particularly. For some reason, he wanted to share things with her. Perhaps because of the way she saw him, the manner in which she didn’t make assumptions but truly tried to know him. As if anyone could.
“Selina and I didn’t grow up with much,” he said slowly. “I’ve worked very hard to get where I am.”
“How?”
That was the part he wouldn’t reveal, no matter how good she made him feel or how much he thought he could trust her. Did he? Trust came hard to him, almost as hard as it did for his sister.
“I was fortunate to inherit that bookstore and a small amount of money, which I invested carefully. I will never forget how difficult it was when I was young, however.”
“After you were kidnapped from your home.” She reached across the table to touch him, but swiftly snatched her hand back. “I suppose I can’t really touch you looking the way I do.”
“No.” At the mention of his kidnapping, he stiffened.
“Well, I think it’s lovely that you help children like Annie.”
“Will you really visit her?” He sipped his coffee.
“I want to. You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Perhaps you’ll bring me,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
He shook his head. “If you are trying to entice me to continue our acquaintance—”
She leaned forward, her eyes glowing. “Is it working?”
“Yes.” The word slipped between his lips before he could stop it. He leaned slightly forward too.
“I have a room upstairs,” she said rather breathlessly.
“How on earth…” He couldn’t even finish the thought, let alone the question.
“It’s under my name, Mr. Dazzle.”
Rafe stifled a sharp laugh. “You didn’t really use that name.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I did. And now I’m going up to that room. If you would care to meet me, it’s on the second floor in the back, facing Paul’s Alley.”
“Your capability is terrifying.”
“Is it?” She arched a blonde brow as she rose. “Or is it exciting?” She waggled both brows before going to the back corridor where the stairs were located.
How in the hell had she done this? How did she know where to go? Had she come yesterday and made the arrangements? She was terrifyingly exciting.
And he had no idea what he was going to do about her.
Chapter 8
By the time Anne reached the room upstairs, she was shaking. After she closed the door, she strode into the center of the small room and took a deep breath.
