Sylvia Day: Pride and Pleasure

The man with the frightening hair intruded. “Eliza, marry Montague and be done with this farce.”

With the voicing of that one name, Jasper knew why he’d received the referral and how little chance Eliza Martin had of dismissing him.

“I will not be bullied, my lord,” she said firmly.

“Invite Mr. Bond to sit, then.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Skirting her, Jasper settled into the pew behind the one they occupied.

“Mr. Bond…” Miss Martin gave a resigned exhalation. “My lord, may I present Mr. Jasper Bond? Mr. Bond, this is my uncle, the Earl of Melville.”

“Lord Melville.” Jasper greeted the earl with a slight bow of his head. He knew of Melville as the head of the Tremaine family, a lot renowned for their eccentricities. “I believe you will find me to be highly suitable for any task in want of a thief-taker to manage it.”

Miss Martin’s blue eyes narrowed on him in silent reproach for attempting to circumvent her. “Sir, I am certain you are capable in most circumstances. However-”

“About the many points…?” he interjected, circling back. He disliked proceeding when there were still matters left unaddressed.

“You are overly tenacious.” She remained standing, as if prepared to show him out.

“An excellent trait to have in my profession.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mitigate the rest.”

“What rest?”

The earl’s gaze darted back and forth between them.

She shook her head. “Can we not simply leave it at that, Mr. Bond?”

“I would rather we didn’t.” He set his hat on the seat beside him. “I have always taken pride in my ability to manage any situation put before me. How will I provide exemplary service if I can no longer make that claim?”

“Really, sir,” Miss Martin protested. “I did not say you are unsuitable for your trade as a whole, only in regards to our situation-”

“Which is…?”

“A matter of some delicacy.”

“I cannot assist you if I am ignorant of the details,” he pointed out.

“I do not want your assistance, Mr. Bond. You fail to collect that.”

“Because you refuse to explain yourself. Mr. Lynd thought I was suitable and you trusted his judgment enough to arrange this meeting.” Jasper would pay Lynd handsomely for the referral. It had been far too long since he’d felt this level of interest in anything beyond his need for vengeance.

“Mr. Lynd does not have the same considerations I do.”

“Which are…?”

“Sir, you are exasperating.”

And she was fascinating. Her eyes sparkled with irritation, her right foot tapped against the floor, and her fisted hands moved often as if to rest on her hips. But she resisted the urge. He found her resistance most appealing. What would it take to break it and see her unrestrained? He couldn’t wait to find out.

“I will compensate you for your time today,” she said, “so all is not a complete loss to you. There is no need to continue this discussion.”

“You overlook the possibility that I might have intended to assign a member of my crew to you, Miss Martin. I would, however, need to know what your situation is so I can determine whose skills would best suit your requirements.” He intended to service her himself, but he wasn’t above a little subterfuge when the prize was this delicious.

“Oh.” She bit her lower lip again. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“So I noted.”

Miss Martin finally sank back onto the pew in a movement of eminent grace. “Just so we are clear you won’t do.”

“It isn’t clear.” He set his cane between his legs and placed his hands atop it, one over the other. “At least, not to me.”

She glanced at his lordship, then-reluctantly-back to Jasper. “You force me to say what I would rather not, Mr. Bond. Frankly, you are too handsome for the task.”

He was stunned into momentary silence. Then, he relished an inner smile. How delightful she was, even when cross.

“Mr. Lynd was less conspicuous than you,” she continued. “You are quite large and, as I said, far too comely.”

Lynd was a score of years older and average in height, features, and build. Jasper looked to the earl and found the man staring at his niece with confusion. “I fail to see what bearing my face has on my investigative skills.”

“In addition-” her voice grew stronger as she warmed to the topic of his faults, “-it would be impossible to disguise the air about you which distinguishes you.”

“Pray tell me what that is.” He was beginning to find it difficult to hide his growing enjoyment of the conversation.

“You are a predator, Mr. Bond. You have the appearance of one, and you carry yourself like one. To be blunt, you are clearly capable of being a dangerous man.”

“I see.” Fascination deepened into captivation. Perhaps she wasn’t so innocent, after all. He spent obscene amounts of coin on his attire, deliberately crafting an appearance so polished very few saw past it to the rough edges underneath.

“I doubt you would be effective at your profession if you were not possessed of both predatory and dangerous qualities,” she qualified in a conciliatory tone.

“And many others,” he offered.

Miss Martin nodded. “Yes, I suspect the trade requires you to be well versed in a multitude of skills.”

“It certainly helps.”

“However, your masculine beauty negates all of that.”

Jasper was ready to move forward. “Would you get to the point, Miss Martin? What-exactly-did you intend to hire me to accomplish?”

“Quite a bit, actually. Protection, investigation, and…to act as my suitor.”

“I beg your pardon?” Bond’s voice rumbled through the air between them.

Eliza was flustered and out of sorts, and her state was entirely his fault. She had not anticipated that he would be so persistent or so curious. And she had certainly not expected a man of his appearance. Not only was he the handsomest man she had ever seen, but he was dressed in garments fit for a peer and he carried his large frame with a sleek, preda-ceous grace.

He also regarded her in a manner that would only lead to trouble.

To receive such an examination from a man who looked like Jasper Bond was highly disconcerting. Men such as he usually dismissed women of average appearance the moment they saw them. That was why she took such pains to be as unobtrusive in her attire selections as possible. Why encourage responses she was ill-equipped to deal with?

Perhaps his interest was engaged by the color of her hair? Her mother had posited that some men had a peculiar preference for specific parts of the female body and for tresses of a certain hue.

“Repeat yourself, please, Miss Martin,” Bond said, watching her with those dark and intense eyes.

It was her curse to feel compelled to gaze directly at the person with whom she was speaking. She found it difficult to think quickly when awed by Jasper Bond’s perfection. Stunning as he was from the shoulders down, he was more so from the shoulders up. His hair was as thick and dark as her favorite ink, and blessed with a similar sheen. The length- slightly overlong-was perfect for framing his features: the distinguished nose, the deep-set eyes, the stern yet sensual mouth. It was a testament to the way he carried himself that he could be so formidable with such a pretty face. He was very clearly not a man one wished to cross.

“I need protection-” she said again.

“Yes.”

“Investigation-”

“I heard that part.”

“And-” her chin went up, “-a suitor.”

He nodded as if that were a mundane request, but the glitter in his eyes was anticipatory. “That’s what I thought you said.”