What You Propose (Anything for Love 2)

Damn it. He couldn't just stand there staring. He was going to have to say something.

"Madame Labelle. Let me welcome you."

She glanced at him briefly, not bothering to look at his unconventional choice of attire. As a woman skilled in the art of seduction and titillation, he expected a flirtatious comment or a suggestive wiggle of the hips. But he received neither.

"You are Mr. Danbury, I presume?" she asked raising her chin.

Her voice sounded too haughty, too lofty for his liking. She could stop with the pretence. He was not a randy lord seeking proof she ran a higher class establishment.

"I am," he replied, intrigued by the smile that touched her lips as she scanned the exterior of the ancient stone building.

"And this is a monastery?"

"It was a monastery, but now it is my home."

"Is there still a chapel?"

"A small one."

Why did she ask so many questions?

"Excellent," she beamed, her face alight with pleasure and he had to blink from being blinded by the sheer brilliance of it all.

Marcus shuffled uncomfortably on the spot.

Perhaps it would have been easier if she had been an old hag with a crude mouth and a saggy bosom. The thought forced him to focus on her petite frame. In stark contrast to her steely composure, she appeared delicate and fragile, and he guessed her small breasts would fit nicely into his warm palms.

Roused by a sudden suspicion that this was a trick concocted by Dane for his own amusement, Marcus chose to be rude. "You seem eager to visit the chapel. Have you come here to repent?"

"Perhaps." She eyed him suspiciously but showed no sign she had taken offence. "In any given situation, one must make the most of the opportunities presented before them."

Marcus considered her cryptic words. Was she referring to her scandalous past? Did she consider him an opportunity to line her pockets? By God, he'd be tempted to pay just to satisfy his curiosity.

He stepped closer. It had been years since he'd felt such a strong pulse of desire.

"Perhaps I should follow your philosophy and make the most of the opportunity standing before me," he said with a smirk. He decided it best to be blunt for he had no intention of playing her mind games. "It's been a while since I've had the opportunity to bed a woman as fetching as you or with half the skill when it comes to pleasing men."

The slap came quick, sharp, stinging his cheek, albeit temporarily.

Tristan gasped but then raised a brow to suggest Marcus deserved nothing less.

That did not stop his blood boiling and bubbling away inside, and he clenched his jaw for fear of growling.

Who the hell did she think she was? Perhaps the woman had forgotten that she spent all of her working hours on her back.

"Let me make a few things clear, Mr. Danbury, before we proceed any further." Her blue eyes flashed a hard frosty stare. "My name is not Madame Labelle. That name was given to me, forced upon me and I have borne it for far too long. I do not know what Lord Danesfield has told you. But from your crude and presumptuous manner, I can only guess. You should know I have left that world behind me, too." She exhaled deeply, a tired, weary sound and a frisson of guilt coursed through him. "Now, let me thank you for your hospitality and for offering me a place to stay."

She held out her hand. He didn't know whether to kiss it, turn his back or drop to his knees and swear undying loyalty.

He took her bare hand, ignoring the sparks of desire flitting through him and brushed his lips against the soft skin. It took a tremendous effort not to linger over it as the sweet smell of almonds flooded his nostrils.

"Forgive me, if I caused any offence. If you no longer wish to be known as Madame Labelle, how would you prefer to be addressed?" He could not hide the note of contempt in his tone.

As she glanced up at Haines, the coachman offered a reassuring smile and nodded his head as though encouraging her to continue.

"My … my given name is Anna." The words stumbled from her lips but then she repeated with a little more confide

nce, "My name is Miss Anna Sinclair."