What You Propose (Anything for Love 2)

Her gaze drifted to the bronze skin and defined contours on his chest. Most gentlemen gracing the rooms of Labelles were pasty-white, an obvious paunch indicating their wealth and status. Mr. Danbury's muscled physique supported her comment that he was a man willing to work if need be. Standing in such close proximity she felt a warm heat radiate from his skin, and she wondered if all men possessed a similar quality. Indeed, her personal experience lacked such intimate knowledge, as Victor had been the only man she'd ever been close to.

"Don't look so downcast," Mr. Danbury said with a hint of arrogance. "Now what was it you wanted to discuss?"

Anna couldn't think while he was standing there half naked. "Would you mind putting on your shirt? I think I prefer the peasant to the golden-skinned Lothario."

He chuckled. "I assumed you would be comfortable in the presence of a naked man. You must have seen more than your share."

Anna felt her face flush. "Must I slap you again, Mr. Danbury, in the hope you will learn to hold your foolish tongue." He really did let himself down when making such childish remarks.

His heated gaze penetrated her steely composure. When he stepped closer, she wasn't sure if he was about to unleash the wrath of the Devil or pull her into an embrace and plunder her mouth like the savage pirate his unconventional dress implied.

Both thoughts were unnerving. But, after what felt like a lifetime of cowering in the corner, she refused to relinquish control.

"You cannot intimidate me," she continued, raising her chin in defiance.

With a gleam in his eye, Mr. Danbury smiled as his gaze drifted to her lips. "And why would I want to do that, Miss Sinclair?"

"Because you like to dominate everyone and everything. Because you despise appearing weak and vulnerable."

He smirked at her honest appraisal. "That's where you're wrong. You err when you compare me to most men of your acquaintance. I am happy to admit I am weak." He inhaled deeply as his gaze travelled over her face and hair. "I am happy to admit that in your company I am vulnerable. You need only say the word, and I would yield to the power of your intelligence and beauty."

A strong masculine force penetrated the air around them. It was not the threatening or fearful sensation she was used to, and she was shocked to feel a tiny frisson of desire spark in her ice-cold body.

Believing herself immune to such feelings, it shook her to her core.

Anna Sinclair really was naive and foolish. Marie Labelle would think her pathetic for responding so easily to any man's fake protestations. Yet she could not shake the thought that there was a grain of truth hidden within his words.

"Flowery overtures often hide the worst of lies," she said, her tone bitter in a bid to reinforce the iron vault safeguarding her heart. Marie would be proud.

"You may call me what you will, but don't ever call me a liar."

His words were blunt but lacked the poisonous venom that usually paralysed her with fear. Victor would have grabbed her chin or squashed her cheeks together with his long bony fingers. It seemed Mr. Danbury possessed at least one quality of a true gentleman.

"Forgive me," she said. "Perhaps I am too used to the cunning devices employed by a skilled seducer."

There was no mistaking her veiled insult and Mr. Danbury jerked his head in response. He stepped back and the distance brought with it the familiar coldness that shrouded her wherever she went.

"The hour is late or early depending how one looks at it," he said with indifference. He shook out his shirt and threw it over his head, thrusting his arms violently into the sleeves as though they had wronged him in some way. "You should retire to your chamber."

Anna swallowed deeply. "But you have not answered my question."

"I did not realise you had asked one."

"You have an assignment," she said finding the courage to broach the subject as she would not rest until she knew the truth. "I heard as much earlier while you were arguing with Tristan."

"We were not arguing." Mr. Danbury perched on the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. "What else did you hear?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. Everything else had sounded like incoherent mumbles. "But you rode out again this evening."

"What of it?"

"Well, it cannot be a coincidence. Lord Danesfield must have uncovered new information relating to the Comte de Dampierre." Just saying his name aloud caused the fine hairs at her nape to stand on end. Her stomach felt hollow; her heart wormed its way up into her throat. "Have you found his accomplice? Is he here, in France? Tell me, Mr. Danbury. You cannot hide it from me. I deserve to know the truth."

He stared at her and narrowed his gaze. "Dane mentioned your association with a Frenchman. This comte you speak of, is he your lover?"

"No," she cried. Heavens, the thought caused her to shudder. "He was many things but never that."

"He is your partner in business, then?"