Love, Come to Me(66)

“We could forget about dinner.”

“Why, Mrs. Rayne . . . ,” he drawled, affecting shock, and she blushed as he gave her a beguiling, riverboat-gambler smile. “I wish we could. But I mentioned to Damon that we’ll be eating out for the next few days until we can organize a household staff, and he insisted that we meet him for dinner tonight at the Parker House.”

Sighing heavily, Lucy felt genuine regret as she pictured the long evening ahead of them. It would be hours and hours before they would be alone together, and she discovered that she desperately wanted to be alone with him. She was anxious to find out exactly how far this new beginning was going to go.

“We’ll have to go,” he said, tapping her under the chin with a gentle forefinger, his eyes gleaming with a teasing light. “But I’ll make it up to you later—I stake my word on it.”

“Your word as a gentleman?”

“Of course.”

“I’d prefer something more reliable,” she replied, giving him a flirtatious glance that elicited a delighted smile from him.

“Later,” he murmured, and let go of her reluctantly.

Damon Redmond was more or less what Lucy had expected. She got her first good look at him as she and Heath were brought to a discreet, well-placed table in the Parker House dining room. Parker’s was the meeting place for people of means and influence, one of the few places in the country that served à la carte at any hour of the day, on the premise that its customers had the right to eat their meals at times other than the regularly scheduled hours.

Damon took her hand, lifted it to his lips in a practiced gesture and politely uttered all of the appropriate remarks. His breeding and arrogant self-confidence, carefully developed through several generations of Redmonds, would have been evident even if he had been dressed in sackcloth. Clad as he was in perfectly tailored clothes, immaculately shined shoes and a narrow necktie, he possessed a certain glamour that held its own against Heath’s polished charm. He was tall—another two inches and he would have matched Heath’s height—and his coal black hair and hard-featured face gave him an aloof but handsome appearance. When he smiled, he was doubly attractive, but not once during the entire meal did his smile ever seem to reach his snapping black eyes. Although he had an appealing sense of humor, there was something calculating about his manner, as if he were constantly weighing, judging, and assessing, which, Lucy decided, was an unsettling quality in a dinner companion, but not a bad quality in a newspaper editor.

After they had exchanged small talk about Boston and ordered from the menu, Damon turned to Lucy. “I hope that moving from Concord and establishing residence in Boston has not been overly taxing for you, Mrs. Rayne.”

“Not at all. It has been very easy, as a matter of fact.” Throwing Heath a teasing smile, she added, “I only hope the two of you will be able to put the Examiner in order as quickly as I intend to put the house in order.”

“Unfortunately it’s going to take some time,” Damon said dismissively, taking a sip of wine and casting a disinterested glance around the room. Lucy realized that he had no intention of discussing business matters in front of her or talking about anything at all concerning the newspaper. Belatedly she remembered Heath’s earlier warning on the way to Parker’s, that Damon had a tendency to regard women as empty-headed creatures. She turned to Heath, who gave her an almost unnoticeable shrug and an “I-tried-to-tell-you” look.

“Has it been necessary to fire many of the former employees so far?” she asked, now determined to pursue the subject of the Examiner.

Heath smiled slowly before replying, aware of what she was attempting to show Damon. “Mostly on the editorial staff. And we’ve had to let several of the reporters go. We need to find new ones, who won’t be afraid to take a few risks.”

“Where are you going to get them?”

Damon seemed uncomfortable with her questions. “Here and there,” he said evasively.

Heath was amused. “There’s no need to keep anything from my wife, Damon.” His gaze slid to Lucy’s expectant face. “Reporters are usually dug up from backroom printing shops, Cin. But I have a feeling we’ll have more luck finding the kind we want if we look in other places.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially and winked at her. “If we’re lucky, we’ll manage to steal a few from the Journal and the Herald.”

“Really? Isn’t that unethical?”

“Very. But cheaper and less trouble than training someone ourselves. There’s no such thing as formal training for reporters . . . just experience. The more we can get who already have experience, the further ahead we are.”

“What are you going to offer them to leave the newspapers they’re already working for? More money?”

“That and reasonable working conditions. And also a few challenges.”

“What kinds of challenges?”

Damon cut in smoothly. “It’s a long list, Mrs. Rayne. I’m certain that you don’t wish to be bored with it.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Redmond.” She met his dark eyes squarely. “I am interested in everything pertaining to my husband’s business—”

“An interest,” Heath said, “which I am happy to encourage.”

“Apparently,” Damon murmured, and withdrew into a cool silence.