Chapter 5 #2
Now that he was face-to-face again with Beatrice Rowe, all of his carefully plotted plans flew out of his head. And who in the hell was the other honey-blonde woman in the corner sending evil glances his way? He gave one of his ears a tentative rub. The stressful situation had just escalated.
Beatrice smoothly intervened. "Mister Dyer, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my sister, Miss Anneke Van Dijk, who's here to help me with my son who adores her.
" He wondered at the way she pounced at the startled look on her sister's face.
"And she loves him so much, she was just about to join him in the family parlor. ..weren't you, Anneke?"
"Why, erm, yes, that's right. I'm off to join my darling Willie. And you said he's in the family parlor?"
Beatrice nodded in assent whilst giving Warrick a look over the top of her reading spectacles. He imagined he saw gratitude in her eyes for showing up and frightening off her sister. When it came to the fairer sex, he was always eager to please, no matter what it took. Not really.
She stared at his gleaming boarding axe with a tiny smile.
He never went anywhere without his handy weapon, and he'd slung the axe over his shoulder that morning when he'd left the warehouse.
He stiffened in anticipation of a lecture about gentlemen bringing weapons to call on a lady, but she merely motioned for him to sit across from her whilst she sank into the chair behind her desk.
He finally could no longer bear the suspense. "Why are you smiling?"
"Because you are the veritable image of the kind of dangerous man my sister has always loved to warn me about. She was prepared to ruin an entire day with her endless lectures on what a disappointment I was as a proper wife, and now as a mother. You, Mr. Dyer, have saved me from that."
"I'm always glad to be of service." He smiled at his nemesis, forgetting his vow never to trust her, never to allow her the upper hand. He tried to remember his brother Con's words early that morning when he'd visited him to form a strategy to clear their names.
"Don't let yer bollocks take over yer brain." Con had been blunt in his words.
Warrick had been angry with his older brother at the time, but now that he was in the presence of the soft, sweet-scented woman across from him, he realized his brother was right.
He was having trouble avoiding staring at the outline of her perfect curves straining against the bodice of her latest black silk dress whilst she leaned forward to make some point about something new she'd discovered from her records.
He knew he should be focusing on the words coming out of her mouth, not her tempting body, but he couldn't. He was lost.
Wait a minute. What had she just said?
"Let me get this straight." Warrick rubbed hard at one of his ears, more out of habit than pain.
"You're saying the dates we were supposedly stealing more than our fair share from your shipments.
..and using small children to do the heavy lifting.
..were the same dates your brother-in-law was in town deviling you about how you're managing Rowe Shipping? "
She gave him a bleak look. "That's exactly what I've been saying. Where has your mind been?" She let that question sink in for a few moments before adding, "Wool gathering?"
After a few moments' consideration, Warrick stood and paced in front of her desk, throwing out suggestions as he went.
"Here's how I see we proceed. We can work together to solve this messy business, but we might as well give up right now and go our separate ways if we can't agree on one main thing. "
Her eyes widened. "I'm listening. Tell me more."
"We have to trust each other...completely...if this alliance is to succeed." He extended a hand across her desk, and she took it in a firm grip of assent.
Beatrice tried to ignore the heat and tingling in the hand she'd just pressed into Warrick's.
She gazed directly into his gray-blue eyes and insisted, "If we're going to form an.
..um, alliance, then we'd better dispense with formalities.
Please call me Beatrice, and I'm hoping I may address you as Warrick? "
He didn't break their connection across the space between them but simply shook his head in assent.
She had to hold herself back from walking around the desk to meet him halfway.
She wasn't yet ready to expose that much vulnerability, although the mere act of grasping his hand had nearly done her in.
Her sister was right. Beatrice had exhibited very little restraint where men were concerned over the years. As the youthful, spoiled daughter of a wealthy merchant captain in Amsterdam, she'd believed the world belonged to her. She could take what she pleased.
She'd been wrong. Wilfred had been young and handsome when they'd met whilst he was conducting business with her father, but drink and dissipation had taken their toll on her husband over the years.
When the magistrate had notified her of his demise in the bed of his current whore, she hadn't been surprised, or scandalized.
Warrick Dyer was not handsome in the classic way. But he was rugged, feral, built like a solid rock, and the warmth of his body whenever he touched her did butterfly things to her naughty quim.