Scout's Honor Read Online Free PDF

head. “Try again,” she prompted.
    “Okay.” His voice lifted both syllables in a
long sigh. “How about this one? I need you . . . your services, Ms.
Lange, for just a few hours, but I’m willing to pay for a whole
night if that’s what it takes.”
    There was nothing like good breeding to keep
your mouth from falling open. His outrageous proposition astounded
her, but no telltale flush of anger marred the cool serenity of her
face, and no whitening of her cheeks displayed her shock. Her
delicate grasp on the wineglass turned into an icy grip and for a
few seconds she was incapable of bodily movement, but other than
that she was okay. Insulted, but okay.
    Maybe the dress was too much—or too little,
depending on how you looked at it, she thought. If she’d given him
the impression she was a hooker, then she needed to reevaluate her
wardrobe.
    No, she decided, she was being ridiculous.
Any mistakes had been made by him in his naïveté. She had
impeccable taste. Of course, it was almost flattering to think a
man would follow her halfway around the world just to take her to
bed. Almost, but not quite, especially when he seemed unsure of how
long it would take for her to satisfy him. All night indeed!
    She set the wineglass on the table and
refocused her attention on the man patiently waiting for her
reply.
    “You have made an error in judgment, Mr.
Summers, obviously not your first.” She spoke in her most
condescending manner, looking up at him from under long, sooty
lashes. “I don’t sell the kind of services you need.”
    The smile slipped off his face, and his
eyebrows pulled together across his smooth forehead. He was so
transparent, she had to force herself to keep from laughing. No
wonder he’d lost his shirt to Jacques Dumonde. Even a straight
dealer could have cleaned him out.
    “I know it’s an unusual request,” he said,
his voice taking on a surprising urgency as he leaned forward. “But
if you’ll just hear me out, maybe you’ll change your mind. This is
important to me.”
    Where in the world was he coming from? she
wondered. It sounded as if he needed a sex therapist, not the
high-priced call girl he’d taken her for. She instinctively sat
farther back in her chair, putting extra distance between herself
and the insistent Mr. Summers.
    “I’m not the woman you want . . . Um, let me
rephrase that. I’m not the woman you’re going to get.” She lowered
her eyes meaningfully. “You should have held on to the blond lady
at the baccarat table. She at least seemed willing.” Anna put it as
delicately as she could, hoping he would take the hint and leave.
If he didn’t, she was going to signal for the maitre d’ to get rid
of him, and if he showed up again, she would reconsider St. John’s
offer.
    Her words were met by a quizzical look that
slowly changed to understanding, and a teasing grin slowly curved
his lips
.
    “You have made the error in judgment, Ms.
Lange . . . obviously your first.” His grin broadened.
“The services I’m willing to buy are your gambling skills,
specifically your poker game.”
    Anna felt the flush of embarrassment spread
across her chest and run up her neck to her cheekbones. He’d
surprised her
, and she knew it was written all over her face. How had she made
such a stupid mistake? Mitch, or Stephen, or
whatever-his-name-was-Summers had crossed her wires but good this
time. The guileless face wasn’t as easy to read as she’d been
giving herself credit for tonight. So far he hadn’t done anything
but surprise her.
    Good breeding told her to excuse herself
politely from the table and forget she’d ever had this
conversation, to wipe it out of her memory. “My apologies for
misunderstanding.” She forced a tight smile to her lips and moved
to stand
up.
    But before
she
was halfway out of her seat
, he reached over
and grasped her hand.
    “I’m sorry. . . . Please stay,” he said. “I
apologize for giving you the wrong impression. I should have