Someone to Watch Over Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

thinking of somehow forcing Miss Duvall’s memory to return.—”
    “Point taken,” Grant muttered, offended. “Christ. One would think I went about kicking dogs and frightening small children.”
    Linley chuckled in the face of his annoyance. “I only know your reputation, man. Good evening—I’ll be sending you a bill soon.”
    “Do that,” Grant said, making no secret of his impatience for the sawbones to leave.
    “One more thing…a patient with a concussion is quite vulnerable. A second trauma to the head, perhaps caused by a fall, could prove harmful or even fatal.”
    “I’ll take care of her.”
    “All right, Morgan.” The doctor sent a warm smile toward Vivien. “ Au revoir, Miss Duvall. I’ll visit again in a few days.”
    Mrs. Buttons popped her head around the door, her gaze fixed on Grant. “Sir? Is there anything you require?”
    “Nothing right now,” Grant murmured, and watched as the housekeeper accompanied the doctor to the main staircase.
    “What is your reputation?” Vivien asked feebly, apparently having caught the last of the doctor’s comments.
    Grant went to her and sat in the bedside chair. He wove his fingers together and extended his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. “Damned if I know.” He shrugged irritably. “I’m a Bow Street Runner. In the course of my work people are alwayslying, hiding things, evading questions. I just have a way of cutting to the truth, and that makes them uncomfortable.”
    Despite her weariness, a spark of amusement appeared in Vivien’s blue eyes. “You ‘have a way,” she repeated drowsily. “What does that mean?”
    He grinned suddenly, unable to keep from leaning forward and smoothing a straggling tendril away from her face. “It means I do whatever’s necessary to find out the truth.”
    “Oh.” She yawned, fighting to stay awake, but her exhaustion was clearly overwhelming. “Grant,” she whispered, “what is my reputation?”
    She fell asleep before he could reply.

Three
    G rant awoke as the weak morning sunlight began to filter through the windowpanes. Perplexed, he stared at the ice-blue ceiling of the guest room, expecting to see the wine-colored canopy over his own bed. Suddenly he recalled the events of the previous evening. There had been no sound from Vivien’s room. He wondered how she had fared the night. After all she had been through, she would likely sleep for most of the day.
    Fitting his hands behind his head, Grant lay there for another minute, pondering the knowledge that Vivien was here, in his house, only a few rooms away from him. It had been a long time since a woman had slept beneath his roof. Vivien Duvall, at his mercy…The thought entertained him prodigiously. The fact that she didn’t rememberwhat had happened between them only heightened his enjoyment of the situation.
    Yawning, Grant sat up and scratched his fingers through the pelt of dark hair on his chest. He rang for his valet, padded to a nearby chair, and dressed in the linens and pale gray trousers that had been laid out for him. His morning routine had been established by years of habit. He was always out of bed at sunrise, had finished his personal ablutions and dressed within twenty minutes, spent the next half hour devouring a huge breakfast and scanning the Times , and left on foot for Bow Street. Sir Ross Cannon required all Runners who weren’t on duty to report by no later than nine.
    In fewer than five minutes, his valet, Kellow, appeared with a ewer of hot shaving water and all the necessary implements. At the same time, a housemaid quickly laid the fire and tidied the grate.
    Grant poured steaming water into a washbowl and sluiced handfuls of it onto his face, trying to soften what had to be the most obstinate beard in London. When his shaving was concluded, Grant put on a white shirt, a patterned gray waistcoat, and a black silk cravat. The official uniform of the Bow Street Runners included a red waistcoat, blue coat and