After setting her brandy on the table beside her, she ignored his hand as she stood and smoothed her hands down the bodice of her black gown. “I shall give you until the end of the year.”
“That’s in twelve days.”
Callista shrugged and moved to step past him. “If you doubt your methods...”
“I’ve no doubts.” The weight of promise in his voice brought her to a stop. Their gazes met at an intimate distance.
“You’re rather sure of yourself.” The husky tone of her voice could not be fully disguised.
“With good reason.”
Callista narrowed her gaze to disguise the effect his words had on her. “If you fail to prove anything beyond your own hubris, you will close your doors and leave London.”
It was bold move.
“Agreed,” he replied easily. “Are you available tomorrow evening?”
“Evenings are difficult for me,” she replied as she slipped past him with a swish of her black skirts and started across the room to the door. It was time for her to leave before she started to regret coming in the first place. Or he thought to demand something in return if he should happen to succeed. Not that it would have mattered what boon he demanded since she had no doubt he would fail quite fantastically.
“I’ll arrange something,” he replied, undaunted by her evasion.
Callista lifted her hand in a wave over her shoulder. “You do that, Mr. Maxwell. I’ll see myself out.”