Love's Portrait Read Online Free PDF Page A

her absence would not go unnoticed.
    “I explained that an important business matter required my immediate attention, and that I would return momentarily. Eventually they’ll realize we’re both missing and come to the conclusion that we’re both occupied with the same business matter.” His voice softened as he spoke and he eyed her in the same manner a wolf does its supper.
    “Unfinished business?” She frowned for a brief second before her stomach lurched violently. “But everyone will think—”
    Appalled, she struggled to suppress the panic rising up into her throat. His gaze unreadable, he folded his arms across his chest.
    “I’m not in the habit of caring what others think.”
    “Naturally. But at the moment, it’s not your reputation in jeopardy,” she snapped.
    “Perhaps you should have considered the risks more carefully before visiting my room.”
    She winced at the hint of steel in his voice. He was right. She’d been so certain it would be an easy task to steal a simple handkerchief. She’d been wrong, and it was incredibly irritating to have to admit that he was right. Well, there was little she could do about having been caught. What mattered now was extracting herself from the current situation.
    “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re correct Mr. St. Claire. I erred in my risk calculation. I apologize for intruding. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll rejoin the others.”
    In a quick movement, she tried to skirt him, but he was faster. Once more, he blocked her way, but this time his body was mere inches away from hers. Heat radiated from his hard, lean body, and it created a frisson across her skin that alarmed her. She swallowed her dismay as she met his penetrating gaze.
    “You’ve yet to explain why you need one of my handkerchiefs, Julia.”
    The way he said her name sent dozens of butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. There was a possessive sound to it, and she wasn’t quite certain what it meant. Worse, she didn’t like the delicious sensation that skimmed down her spine. One thing was perfectly clear to her. The resolute line of his lips said she wouldn’t leave the room until she’d given him an explanation for her behavior. She clenched her jaw in frustration.
    “If you must know, I wish to auction off the silk at a luncheon for the Society for Lost Angels. We’re trying to raise money for a new orphanage.”
    “And you think my handkerchief would draw a large sum?” He frowned with skeptical puzzlement.
    “Yes, I do,” she said with indignation. “Unfortunately, there are a number of women who think it romantic that you offer an abandoned lover a handkerchief with which to dry their tears.”
    He studied her with that mesmerizing gaze of his for a long moment before he smiled. It was a smile of dangerous charm, and she sucked in a sharp breath at the power it held over her.
    “And you don’t subscribe to the idea that it’s romantic.”
    “No, I do not.”
    “Interesting, although I’m still not convinced any of your Society’s members will buy this small trifle.”
    She trembled as his fingers glided along the side of her forearm before flicking the silk square she held tightly in her hand. Even through her evening gloves, his fingertips singed her skin. The amused skepticism in his eyes infuriated her. The man knew little about the women in the Society. The handkerchief she held would bring a tidy sum to the orphanage fund.
    “Shall we make a wager on that, Mr. St. Claire?” she said through clenched teeth. His gaze narrowed at her biting tone
    “Hmm, an interesting notion. What do you propose we wager?”
    A shiver of trepidation skated down the length of her spine. God in heaven, she was a reckless as Catherine said she was. But she was in the pond now. There was nothing for it, but to swim for shore with what little decorum she had left.
    “If I sell the handkerchief, you must offer up an equal sum for the orphanage fund.”
    Folding his arms,