Page 48 of Single Desire
“And if she does not?” Her tone was honeyed.
He slanted her his most disarming smile. “Well, then, I shall simply have to go about making her reappear.”
Maura’s guard went up threefold. So did the beat of her heart.
“Now come, Duchess, let us go out for a stroll.”
She blinked. “I thought you had business here.”
“And so I do, so let us be about it.” He walked smoothly to one of the double doors and held it wide. “After you, your grace.”
Maura was left with no choice but to precede him.
Their “stroll” consisted of exiting the hotel and turning to the right at the corner. She sucked in a breath. Her gaze slid from one side of the street to the other. There was no question it was a street of exclusive shops. When he tried to lead her into the nearest one—the sign above saidMADAME ROUSSEAU—Maura hung back.
“Your grace,” she said tartly, “I thought this was settled yesterday. There is nothing that I require. My wardrobe is quite satisfactory.”
Alec’s eyes narrowed. “Irish, I would advise you not to cross me,” he stated bluntly. “Once I’ve made up my mind, there is no changing it. I agree it may cause many a head to turn, but if you will not enter Madame Rousseau’s shop—my mother, a woman of utmost fashion, favors it above all others, even those in London—then you leave me no choice. I’ve no aversion to pitching you over my shoulder here and now.”
He didn’t particularly intend to follow through, but her expression made him itch to carry out the threat.
Several people passed by. Maura remained where she was, her gaze damning him with emerald fire. Faith, but the chit was stubborn!
“Which shall it be, Duchess?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said from between her teeth.
“Are you prepared to take that chance?”
Maura’s mouth opened, then closed. Alec read in her expression a mounting uncertainty.
“It is not a demand I make,” he pointed out. “It is merely a question that requires one of two answers, either yes or no. Now what shall it be, your grace? Will you enter under your own power? Or will you enter under mine?”
Maura glared.
“I see in your eyes the inclination to do me bodily harm,” he said lightly. “Pray do not. At least not here. I should much prefer that it occur”—there was an unholy gleam in his eyes—“in private.”
The ice reflected on her lovely features should have frozen him solid, but she entered the shop.
Behind the counter was a petite, fashionably dressed woman of perhaps fifty or so. Only a few streaks of gray at her temples declared her age. Slanted dark eyes lit up with pleasure as soon as she saw Alec.
“Your grace! A pleasure to see you!”
She must have been quite a beauty in her day, Maura decided. She quickly revised it when Madame Rousseau stepped out from behind the counter, as slim as she must have been in her youth. At the sound of her voice, several girls slipped from a curtained area, carrying tape, scissors, and pins.
“Madame,” Alec greeted. Lightly, he kissed her fingertips. “May I present my wife, Duchess of Gleneden.”
Madame gave a little curtsy. “Enchanté,your grace,” she said with a laugh. She glanced back at Alec. “Oh, but many a heartwill break when it is learned that the Black Scotsman has taken a wife!” Her manner became brisk. “How may I help you today?”
Alec slid an arm around Maura’s waist and brought her close. “Madame, would you allow me to confer with my wife in private for a moment?”
“Mais certainement.”Madame bowed her head and gave a low curtsy. She clapped her hands, and her assistants disappeared behind the curtained area. “Please ring ze bell whenever you are ready.”
“I thought we settled this yesterday.” Maura was tense, her tone very low.
“Did we?”
“We did,” she said levelly.
