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have some holdings here and there. All in all, I have about two hundred put away.
Silently Lottie reflected that two hundred pounds in savings was not bad, but it did not offer the kind of
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security one could have wished for. She only hoped that his investments would not depreciate in value.
 Well, that seems quite satisfactory, she said, not wishing to hurt his feelings.  I think we shall do fairly
well if we economize. But I do not think the circumstances allow for a wedding trousseau. Not at this
time. Perhaps in the future 
 Lottie, he interrupted,  we don t need to economize.
 Two hundred pounds is a fine sum, but it will be difficult to maintain a household with 
 Lottie. He glanced at her with an odd expression.  I was referring to thousands. Two hundred
thousand pounds.
 But& but&  Lottie was astonished. It was an immense sum, a fortune by anyone s standards.
 And about five thousand a year from investments and private commissions, he added, stunning her
further. His face darkened.  Although it seems my days of private commissions are over.
 Why, you must be as rich as Lord Radnor, she said dazedly.
He made a choppy gesture with his hand, as if consideration of money was completely irrelevant,
compared to his far greater problem.  Probably.
 You could afford a dozen houses. You could have anything you 
 I don t need a dozen houses. I can only sleep under one roof at a time. I can only eat three meals a
day. And I don t give a damn about impressing anyone.
Lottie was surprised by the realization that he was not motivated to acquire wealth. His fortune had
come as a consequence of his need to outwit everyone from the underworld to Bow Street. And now
that the profession of law enforcement had been taken from him, he would be in urgent need of
something to do. He was a tremendously active man, not at all suited for the cultivated indolence of
aristocratic life. How in heaven s name was he going to adjust to living as a peer?
His thoughts must have mirrored hers, for he gave a groan of hopeless anger and raked his hand roughly
through his hair. A stray lock fell on his forehead, and Lottie was startled by her sudden urge to play with
the thick chocolate-colored strands, smooth them back, slide her fingers into the warm silk.
 Lottie, he said gruffly,  I m going out for a while. I probably won t be back until morning. You have a
reprieve for tonight.
 What are you going to do?
 I don t know yet. He stepped back from her with a restlessness that contained an edge of panic, as if
a heavy net had dropped over him.
Lottie knew that she should not care if he went out and drank, or struck up a fight with someone, or did
any of the numerous foolish things that men in search of amusement did. She should not want to soothe
his barely contained fury. But she did.
Without allowing herself time to consider her actions, Lottie approached him, touching the fine
broadcloth of his coat with her palm. Her hand smoothed over the fabric and eased inside. His waistcoat
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was the same inky black as his coat, but the material was silkier, slipping a little over the hard delineation
of his chest muscles. She thought of how hot his skin must be, to impart such warmth to the thick
garment.
Nick was suddenly motionless, his breath changing to a slower, deeper rhythm. Lottie did not look at his
face but concentrated instead on the knot of his gray necktie as her fingers explored the snowy, fragrant
folds of his shirt.
 I don t want a reprieve, she said eventually and tugged at the knot until it slid loose.
As the necktie unraveled, it seemed that his self-control became similarly undone. He breathed more
heavily, and his hands clenched at his sides. Inexpertly she unfastened the stiff collar of his shirt and
spread it wide to reveal the amber sheen of his throat. She glanced up at his face and saw with a quake [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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