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She poured his tea and since he hadn’t answered her question, she pushed the cup and saucer in front of him. Let him fix it himself. She offered her own bright smile. “However, I must agree with your assessment. You have been behaving like a bloody ass.” She smiled and politely poured her own tea.

Dante threw his head back and laughed so hard he drew attention to them from the other customers. “Miss Sanford, I believe we will get along just fine.”

She dipped her head and took a sip of tea.

Dante put a drop of cream and a teaspoon of sugar into his tea, still smiling at the set-down Miss Sanford had given him. He hated being wrong, but it appeared this woman was not what he’d expected.

When he’d first seen her, he’d been sure her only contribution to the assignment would be her knowledge of languages. Otherwise, he’d expected her to be merely a bit of fluff on his arm to garner invitations to where he would conduct the investigation.

He might hate being wrong, but he was wrong. This woman was not going to allow him to lead her around, merely asking her to translate something. She had fortitude and determination. This assignment might just work.

He watched her delicate han

ds pour tea, fix her own cup, select two pastries to add to her own plate, all the time ignoring him. It was up to him to smooth things over between them.

“Miss Sanford,” he began. “Perhaps we need to start over. I must admit I was stunned by Sir Phillip presenting me with a female partner. ’Twas not something I was expecting.”

“Clearly.”

“However, I am anxious to proceed with the assignment, as I am sure you are as well. I have a business to run and no doubt you have other interests to take care of as well.” There. That should do it to smooth her ruffled feathers. Just to make certain he’d done the right thing, he smiled at her.

Miss Sanford grinned back. “Don’t try that on me, Mr. Rose. That smile all of the ladies in London are familiar with is not going to sway me.” She took a sip of tea. “However, I accept your apology—” She stopped. “I assume that was an apology?”

He nodded.

“Excellent. I suggest we finish our tea and then begin our plan.”

They were even able to have polite conversation while they enjoyed their tea. The typical subjects of weather and road conditions took up some of the time, as well as observations on those strolling past the window.

Once the waiter had cleared their things away, Miss Sanford whipped out two pieces of paper from her reticule. “I have a list here—actually two lists of the same events—for which I have accepted invitations. In case you are wondering, I have already mentioned when I sent my acceptance that I will be escorted by a friend.”

He lowered his eyelids and tilted his lips up in a soft half-smile. “Is that what we are, Miss Sanford. Friends?”

“Stop that!”

He jumped. “What?”

She waved her finger at him and spoke in a heated whisper. “I am not one of your potential conquests, sir. I am here to do a job with you. I want to be treated with respect. If you want our pretend courtship to appear real, then save your heated looks and lazy smiles for when we are at social events.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he snapped. This was probably not the best time to tell her that when she grew angry like that, with her eyes flashing and her bosoms heaving, everything male in him emerged and all the methods he’d honed over the years to placate a woman and get her into a more amorous mood rose up.

She gave a curt nod. “Just so.” She slid one of the pieces of paper across the table. “Here is your list. I have noted the type of event, so you may dress appropriately, the date and time. I will expect you to arrive at my home in your carriage to escort me. If you can arrange to use the Earl’s carriage, that would be even better.”

“And the Ambassador will be at all these events?”

“As far as I know, yes. He is known to converse in French, German, Spanish and English. Since he spent part of his childhood in Russia, he has been known to slip into that tongue if he feels he’s being overheard.”

“And those are all languages you are familiar with?” Dante let out a low whistle. “Which is why you were selected for this assignment.”

She nodded.

“Sir Phillip mentioned seven languages. What else?”

Without any sort of superciliousness, she rattled off, “Italian and Arabic.”

Beautiful, charming, intelligent and gracious—when not goaded. Yet she came out with swear words he would never expect to hear uttered from that sweet, plush mouth. He had to admit she fascinated him.

“Tell me about yourself.”


Tags: Callie Hutton The Rose Room Rogues Historical