Jarrod's breath caught in his throat. He coughed. "Sarah, did it ever occur to you that you might be a little too bold for your own good?"
"It occurred to me," she admitted, "but I'm only bold with you because you aren't very good at reading between the lines. I decided it was best to tell you what I want."
"I excel at reading between the lines." Jarrod took exception to the fact that she considered him too dull-witted to see through her game of seduction. "When it's a book I'm eager to read. But this…" He raked his fingers through his hair. "Sarah, I'm only human and you're driving me to distraction."
"It's time someone did," she told him. "You've been alone too long."
"I'm alone because I prefer it," he said. Because it was less dangerous. As long as he was alone, his heart was safe. He couldn't be hurt. He couldn't have his heart trampled or fall prey to the madness that was love. "And because I've no room in my life for distractions."
"No room?" She pretended not to understand. "You've an awfully big house," she said. "And Aunt Etta and I don't take up much room."
"You know what I mean."
"That you would rather be alone than share your empty life with a woman?"
"Yes," he said firmly.
Sarah bit her bottom lip. "Any woman or am I the exception?"
"Any woman," he said.
Sarah exhaled. "I'm relieved to hear it."
"And while we're on the subject, you would do well to learn that when it comes to women, I, like most gentlemen, prefer to do the chasing."
Sarah stuck her tongue out at him as she'd done when she was a child and knew he was saying things he didn't mean in order to drive her away. "Liar."
Jarrod blinked. It had been years since anyone, male or female, had had the audacity to call him a liar to his face. "What did you call me?" he asked in a haughty tone designed to make her cower in fright before turning to run.
But Sarah was made of sterner stuff. "I called you a liar, Jays."
"If you were a man, I'd call you out for such an insult."
"If I were a man, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Sarah reminded him. "And you wouldn't feel the need to lie."
"I am not lying," he ground out.
"Yes, you are," she said, waving off his sputtered denials. "I could always tell when you were lying."
"How?" he demanded.
"You don't look me in the eye when you're trying to lie and your actions always betray you," she explained. "You say one thing, but do another."
Jarrod frowned at her logic.
"When was the last time you chased a woman?"
He couldn't answer.
"There are plenty of women in London who are a lot bolder and prettier than I am," she continued. "If you enjoyed the chase, as you call it, as much as you want me to believe, you'd be out doing it. Instead of staying home at night."
"I'd be a fool to chase women during the London season," Jarrod countered. "When I've no interest in marrying and when every single young woman in town is looking to find a husband. Preferably a rich, titled one."
"Then chase the married ones." Sarah glanced around. "I'm quite sure there are any number of married ladies who would be glad for you to chase them."
Jarrod looked affronted. "I don't dally with other men's wives."
"So, you don't chase unmarried ladies and you don't dally with other men's wives… " Sarah pursed her lips. "So, what does that leave? Widows? Servants? Women of dubious character? Actresses? Dancers? Opera singers?"