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“That’s impressive.” Mason sat too.

“What’s even more impressive is that over the course of an hour, our duke who cares about nothing and no one appears to be completely smitten.”

The words irritated him to no end and he sat up straighter, glaring at Menace. “Try to touch her again and I’ll rip your fingers off one at a time.”

“See?” Menace said by way of response.

Baxter raised both his brows. “I do.” Then he cleared his throat. “And I’m glad.”

“What?” Bash asked, looking at his brother. “You want me to return to being that angry man who resembled our father?”

Mason shook his head. “Of course not. But you’ll never be him. I know that for certain. And besides, caring for a woman brings out the best in a man and not the worst.”

Bash frowned. Mason didn’t know for certain what was in Bash’s heart. And sometimes he felt the anger bubbling in his that he’d seen seething within his father. It frightened the hell out of him.

In terms of women bringing out the best in men…Mason had recently gotten married so Bash could forgive him his ridiculous notions. “All ladies can’t be like Clarissa.”

Mason smiled. “True. What do you know about this woman?”

“Nothing,” he answered with a shrug. “Which is how it will stay. These lugheads want to have her work here. But all the profit in the world isn’t going to convince me that it is a good idea.”

“Why not?” Menace asked, leaning back in his chair. “You could make a pile of money and you would have a beautiful woman in your bed.”

Bash grimaced. For a brief second he considered that bedding Isabella might scratch the itch, but he rejected the notion.

Somehow, he got the impression that would make him more protective, not less. “I’ve dallied with enough women to know when one has the potential to get under my skin. There will be no bedding.”

Menace shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Bash leaned forward, his hands coming down on the desk as he half rose from his chair. “But to be clear, you are not to touch her. Ever.”

“You’ve been clear,” Menace replied with a knowing grin.

“Good.” He sat down again. “I’ll stay away from her and so will you.”

Mason rubbed his chin. “So our partners wished to strike a deal with this woman, but you said no and then sent her away?”

“No.” Bash furrowed his brow. “She wanted to leave. She’s not interested in becoming a dealer.”

“Then why was she here?”

“I told you. I don’t know.” But something cold slid down Bash’s back. She’d been nervous the entire time. She’d never wanted to be here. Gambling here had been Eliza’s idea. But why would Eliza bring her unwilling sister to a place like this?

The only answer was for the money. But why?

Chapter Five

Isabella stood in her dressing gown and braid, her arms wrapped about her waist as she assessed the street below, nervous knots twisted in her stomach.

He was here.

By he Isabella meant their Uncle Malcolm. Lord Pennington.

His visits were becoming more frequent. She pressed her fingers to her te

mples. This was not a good sign.

Was Eliza up? She hated for Abigail and Emily to have to face the man alone. He was relentless.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Lords of Scandal Historical