Suddenly You(16)

“I’m hardly surprised that you exhibit pride rather than shame at that fact.”

He raised his brows at her prudish tone. “I’m certainly not ashamed at having the good fortune to acquire and publish a work that the public obviously likes.”

“The public doesn’t always know what is good for it.”

He smiled lazily. “And I suppose your books are appropriate for the public diet?”

Amanda flushed, clearly embarrassed and incensed. “You can’t put my work on the same level as the vulgar memoir of a notorious madam!”

“Of course I can’t,” he said at once, relenting. “Obviously Mrs. Bradshaw is no writer…reading her memoirs is like listening to a few hours of below-stairs gossip. You, on the other hand, have a talent that I sincerely admire.”

Amanda’s expressive face clearly registered her conflicting emotions. Like most writers, who shared the universal need for praise, she took reluctant pleasure in the compliment. However, she could not allow herself to believe he was sincere, and she threw him a glance of ironic suspicion. “Your flattery is unnecessary and wholly ineffective,” she informed him. “Spare yourself the effort, please, and go on with the explanation.”

Jack continued obligingly. “During a recent conversation with Mrs. Bradshaw, I mentioned my acquisition of Unfinished Lady and my plans to become acquainted with you. And then Mrs. Bradshaw surprised me by evincing a friendship with you. She suggested that I should come to call on you at the specific hour of eight o’clock on Thursday night. She seemed certain that I would be well received. And as it turned out,” he couldn’t resist adding, “she was correct.”

Amanda shot him a discreet glare. “But what reason would she have for making such an arrangement?”

Jack shrugged, unwilling to confess that the same question had bothered him for days. “I doubt that reason had anything to do with it. Like most women, she probably makes decisions that don’t conform to any pattern of logic known to man.”

“Mrs. Bradshaw wanted to make sport of me,” she said in a sullen tone. “Perhaps of us both.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that was her intent.”

“What else could it be?”

“Perhaps you should ask her.”

“Oh, I will,” she said grimly, making him laugh.

“Come, now,” he said in a gentle tone, “it didn’t turn out all that badly, did it? No one was hurt…and I feel compelled to point out that most men in the same circumstances wouldn’t have acted with my gentlemanly restraint—”

“Gentlemanly?” she whispered in seething outrage. “If you had possessed any manner of integrity or honesty, you would have identified yourself as soon as you realized my misunderstanding!”

“And spoil your birthday?” He adopted an expression of mock solicitude, and grinned when he saw the way her small gloved hands clenched longingly. “Don’t be angry,” he coaxed. “I’m the same man I was that night, Amanda—”

“Miss Briars,” she corrected him instantly.

“Miss Briars, then. I’m the same man, and you liked me well enough then. There’s no reason we can’t cry pax and be friends.”

“Yes, there is. I liked you better as a prostitute than as a thieving, manipulative publisher. And I cannot be friends with a man who intends to blackmail me. Furthermore, I will never allow you to publish Unfinished Lady. I’d rather burn the manuscript than see it in your hands.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do about it. However, you’re welcome to visit my offices tomorrow and discuss the plans I have for the book.”

“If you think I would even entertain the notion—” she began heatedly, then clamped her mouth shut as she saw their host, Mr. Talbot, approach.

Avid curiosity was stamped all over the lawyer’s face. He regarded them both with a smile of appeasement that caused his round cheeks to push up beneath his merry eyes. “I’ve been called forth to intercede,” he said with a low chuckle. “No quarreling between my guests, if you please. Allow me to point out that the two of you are hardly well enough acquainted to regard each other with such animosity.”

Amanda seemed to bristle at the attempt to make light of their brewing argument. She spoke without taking her gaze from Jack’s face. “I’ve discovered, Mr. Talbot, that a mere five minutes’ acquaintance with Mr. Devlin is sufficient to try the patience of a saint.”

Jack replied softly, allowing his simmering amusement to show in his eyes. “Are you claiming to be a saint, Miss Briars?”

She colored, and her lips thinned, and just as she was ready to unleash a barrage of furious words, Mr. Talbot interceded hastily. “Ah, Miss Briars,” he exclaimed with an overly hearty laugh, “I see that your good friends the Eastmans have just arrived. I beg you to act as my hostess and assist me in greeting them!” Throwing a warning glance at Jack, he began to steer Amanda away.

Before they left him, however, Jack bent to murmur close to Amanda’s ear. “I’ll send a carriage for you tomorrow at ten.”

“I won’t come,” Amanda muttered, her body rigid except for the slight, luscious quiver of her br**sts, encased snugly in beaded black silk. The sight gave Jack an immediate shock of awareness. Heat seemed to dance beneath his own skin, until his body began to awaken in dangerous places. Some unknown emotion surfaced in him, something like possessiveness, or excitement…or even tenderness. He wanted to show her whatever small scrap of goodness he might find at the bottom of his soul, to entice and tempt her.