He knew when a woman was looking him over. There was no doubt Miss Priess had definitely just perused his form. And, he might add, she had done so in a manner that spoke of some experience and skill in the art of the discreet scan.
She was taking his measure, quite literally. It had been awhile since a woman had bothered. Most of them had already decided he’d pass muster before they even met. Reputations were handy things that way. She pulled her hand away with the slightest of tugs and he let her. She could feign indifference all she wanted with that haughty tone of hers but he’d caught her at her wicked little game and he knew better. “Is everything to your liking?”
Her fabulous eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her posture stiffened at the reprimand or perhaps at the insinuation behind it. To her credit, her gaze never wavered in embarrassment or in acknowledgement of having been found out. “I’ve come to offer you a proposal.”
Hayden flashed her a grin. “Is that so?” He let his eyes roam her form, deliberately copying her actions. This was becoming more interesting by the moment. “Carry on then, Miss Priess. I find I’m quite in the mood for being propositioned.”
The lovely Miss Priess did blush at that but her tone remained firm. “A business proposition.” Her blue eyes flicked briefly in Logan’s direction, making a discreet request for privacy. He would take that as a good sign and if she wanted to refer to her proposition as ‘business’, that was fine with him too. The outcome would be the same and that was all that mattered in the end.
Ever the master of nuance, Logan took the hint, making excuses about returning to the gentlemen next door. “Refreshments are available, if you desire anything.” Logan nodded towards the side table set against the wall. It was his way of indicating Hayden was free to pursue whatever course of action he wanted. There would be no interruptions from the inn staff delivering food.
“Ah, mulled wine. Shall I pour you a mug?” Hayden offered to ease the transition of Logan’s departure. It was just the two of them now. Perhaps a little courtesy would thaw her frosty tone, the wine wouldn’t hurt either. Heaven forbid she actually be here to discuss real business. She had the wrong man for that. That was Logan’s specialty.
“No, thank you. This won’t take long.”
Hayden raised an eyebrow and helped himself to the wine. “I’m in no hurry. I have all afternoon.” Clearly, she didn’t know him very well. He liked speed, but not in bed where it was all about slow and steady winning the race. “Please, have a seat, Jenna.” He took a chair near the fire and gestured for her to do the same. Lord, she was a beauty. He watched her arrange her skirts. There were long legs beneath them, he’d wager. He was a breast man himself, but long legs never hurt.
Hayden settled back in the chair, stretching his legs out until his boots rested on the fender of the fire place. It was time to get comfortable. “What is it that you’ve come to, ah, ‘discuss’? The race? Did you see it? There was quite the situation out there on the turn. That can be dangerous when a horse goes down, it puts all the riders in jeopardy.”
Her features settled into a frown of impatient tolerance. “No, Mr. Islington, I’m not here to talk over the race. I’ve come to discuss something else entirely.” “Well, that’s alright by me. We don’t have to discuss anything at all, if you’d prefer not to.” Maybe what she meant was that she was eager to get down to business and not waste time on small talk. Hayden yanked on his cravat and pulled it free. Now they were getting somewhere. “Perhaps you might give me a hand with my boots?” He could already imagine that derriere of hers bent in his direction as she tugged at his boots.
Unfortunately, Miss Jenna Priess didn’t share his enthusiasm for the activity. “Mr. Islington, let me be blunt. I am not one of your swooning ladies who are dying to get into bed with you. I’m not even here about racing. I’m here because you were once an investigator and I have need of one.”
Hayden froze. The past had finally reared its ugly head, here in this remote industrial town. He’d not been expecting it, not here, not now, not from this woman he didn’t know. She might as well have said she needed an escort to the moon. Hayden took a swallow of wine to hide his surprise, to marshal his thoughts.
“I’m an ice racer now, Miss Priess.” His investigation days were long behind him. His celebrity on ice had long since eclipsed any public recollection of what he used to be and for the better, if you asked him. That she even knew he’d been an investigator was nearly as big of a surprise as the initial request. It provoked a host of questions, not the least being how did she know? Perhaps it had been mentioned in passing in an article promoting the race. He’d have to tell Logan to watch the releases more carefully. The other question was how to play this? He had two choices, give in to the curiosity and shock of her request and ask his questions or brush it off with flirtation and innuendo. Perhaps if he flirted hard enough, she would forego her intentions and forget all about wanting an investigator.
Always err on the side of discretion. It had been his motto during his investigatory days and it had kept him alive more than once. If he’d always heeded that advice, things might have turned out differently. Hayden let slip the slightest of wicked grins and decided to play a little in the hopes of drawing her out. “So you do need me?”
He got the reaction he wanted. He’d rather expected he would. Even if she wasn’t indifferent to him, she’d come for real business. She had her pride and she would choke on it before she admitted to the possibility of anything more sensual between them. Miss Priess rose abruptly and pulled on her gloves with short, forceful motions, jamming her fingers into them. “Not in the way you are insinuating, Mr. Islington.”
“I’m not insinuating, I’m clarifying. Do you need me or not?” He rose too, putting himself in close proximity to her, too close to be decent. But he wasn’t a decent man and it was time she knew it.
“I need an investigator.” Her green eyes flared but to her credit she did not back away. “While we’re clarifying, I understand your naughty innuendo perfectly well, and to that I say, not in a million years.”
She might have made a striking exit at that point but she’d forgotten where she’d placed her cloak. Hayden spied it first. His grin widened. Her eyes narrowed as she divined his intent and she moved fast to pre-empt it but his legs were longer and he moved faster. Hayden picked up the cloak and held it out for her, knowing full well it would gall her to take even this small gentlemanly gesture from him.
His hands lingered at her shoulders deliberately as he bent his mouth to her ear, breathing in the welcoming scent of her. “Never is a long time. You might want to keep your options open, Miss Priess.” Lord, she smelled wonderful, like cinnamon and spice, all the good things of a winter kitchen, like a home; nothing at all like the smells he was used to — the sour smell of taprooms, of stale, spilt ale.
Her neck curved forward as she focused her attention on the fastenings of her cloak — too much attention for a task she’d performed a thousand times before and could likely do blindfolded. Hayden smiled. She wasn’t unaffected by him. He could change her mind about leaving. All he had to do was drop a kiss on the nape of her exposed neck, run his hands down the length of her arms. He shouldn’t. It would not be in his best interest in the long run. There was only trouble and ghosts down that path. It didn’t matter what she wanted him to investigate. He simply wasn’t in that line of work any longer. She would be the persistent sort if he let her stay. What he needed, what he wanted was for her to leave and take
