What Price Love? Read Online Free PDF Page A

Register.”
    â€œNo.” He smiled, deliberately a touch patronizingly, when she frowned. “If you wish to know if a particular horse is approved to race, you need to apply for the information.”
    â€œApply?”
    At last a straight, unadorned question; he let his smile grow more intent. “You fill out a form, and one of the register clerks will provide you with the required information.”
    She looked disgusted. “A form.” She flicked the fingers of one hand. “I suppose this is England, after all.”
    He made no reply. When it became clear he wasn’t going to rise to that bait, she tried another tack.
    She leaned forward, just a little. Confidingly fixed her big green eyes on his face, simultaneously drawing attention to her really quite impressive breasts, not overly large, yet on her slight frame deliciously tempting.
    Having already taken stock, he managed to keep his gaze steady on her face.
    She smiled slightly, invitingly. “Surely you could allow me to view the register—just a glance.”
    Her emerald eyes held his; he fell under her spell. Again. That voice, not sultry but something even more deeply stirring, threatened, again, to draw him under; he had to fight to shake free of the mesmerizing effect.
    Suppressing his frown took yet more effort. “No.” He shifted, and softened the edict. “That’s not possible, I’m afraid.”
    She frowned, the expression entirely genuine. “Why not? I just want to look.”
    â€œWhy? What’s the nature of your interest in the Breeding Register, Miss Dalling? No, wait.” He let his eyes harden, let his deepening suspicions show. “You’ve already told us you have no real interest in such things. Why, then, is viewing the register so important to you?”
    She held his gaze unwaveringly. A moment ticked by, then she sighed and, still entirely relaxed, leaned back in the chair. “It’s for my aunt.”
    When he looked his surprise, she airily waved. “She’s eccentric. Her latest passion is racehorses—that’s why we’re here. She’s curious about every little thing to do with horse racing. She stumbled on mention of this register somewhere, and now nothing will do but for her to know all about it.”
    She heaved an artistic sigh. “I didn’t think those here would appreciate a fluttery, dotty old dear haunting your foyer, so I came.” Fixing her disturbing green eyes on him, she went on, “And that’s why I would like to take a look at this Breeding Register. Just a peek.”
    That last was said almost tauntingly. Dillon considered how to reply.
    He could walk over to the bookcase, retrieve the current volume of the register, and lay it on the desk before her. Caution argued against showing her where the register was, even what it looked like. He could tell her what information was included in each register entry, but even that might be tempting fate in the guise of someone allied with those planning substitutions. That risk was too serious to ignore.
    Perhaps he should call her bluff and suggest she bring her aunt into his office, but no matter how intently he searched her eyes, he couldn’t be sure she was lying about her aunt. It was possible her tale, fanciful though it was, was the unvarnished truth. That might result in him breaking the until-now-inviolate rule that no one but he and the register clerks were ever allowed to view the Breeding Register for some fussy old dear.
    Who could not be counted on not to spread the word.
    â€œI’m afraid, Miss Dalling, that all I can tell you is that the entries in the register comprise a listing of licenses granted to individual horses to race under Jockey Club rules.” He spread his hands in commiseration. “That’s really all I’m at liberty to divulge.”
    Her green eyes had grown crystalline, hard. “How very mysterious.”
    He smiled