Evelyn D’Orsay’s pale, beautiful image came to mind. He tensed. Damn it, why couldn’t he dismiss her from his thoughts?
“What’s wrong?” Lucas asked.
“You will be pleased to know that I have turned down a beautiful damsel in distress—that I have decided not to risk my life for a woman seeking to reclaim her family’s fortune.” And he was careful to sound mocking, when he did not quite feel that way.
“Oh, ho. Have you been rejected?” Lucas was incredulous. “You sound very put out.”
“I have never been rejected!” he exclaimed. “It is incredible that her wealthy husband left her so destitute, but I have no time now to play the knight in shining armor to save her.”
Lucas laughed, standing. “You are in a twist because of a woman! This is rich! Are you certain she did not reject you? And whom, pray tell, are we discussing?”
“I rejected her,” Jack said firmly. But suddenly he recalled the way he had left Roselynd—and how shocked and hurt she had been. “We are discussing the Countess D’Orsay. And Lucas? I am not interested in becoming ensnared.” He added, “No matter how beautiful and desperate she is.”
“Since when have you ever been ensnared by a woman?” Lucas asked, surprised.
Jack looked grimly at him. Maybe it was time to be honest, not with his brother, but with himself. “I got her out of France four years ago, with her husband and her daughter. And the problem is that I could not forget her then, and I am afraid I cannot forget her now.”
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