Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1) by Gaelen Foley Read Free Book Online Page B

frightened her.
    Good God, was she really this boring? Or just locked in a cage of her own making?
    No, she realized. Her heart refused to suggest any grand wishes because, deep down, she thought, What’s the point? Why let yourself long for anything when it’ll never happen?
    She glanced at him. That was the lesson you taught me, Jason.
    Floundering, she hid her teeming inner conflict from his searching gaze with a polite smile and just shrugged. “I hardly know.”
    “Well, you’d better think of something, because I don’t recommend you spend it all. A wise schedule of investments will preserve it for future generations and help to make it grow. That is one reason it was wise of your aunt not to split the money up and dole it out among you and your cousins. Lesson one in being rich: a large sum is much easier to grow.”
    She tilted her head. “You actually sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
    He snorted and leaned back in his chair, slanting her a wry smile, then he read on.
    “You’re looking better than before,” she remarked after a moment, studying him.
    “You shouldn’t stare at someone while they are reading. It’s considered rude,” he said.
    “Who were they?” she ventured in a confidential tone.
    He went very still, but his glance shifted uncomfortably from the page to her face and then back again. “I presume you mean the girls.”
    “Yes.”
    He avoided her gaze. “They were no one.”
    “Which one is your lover? Or…surely not both ?”
    His cheeks actually colored a bit as he sent her a brief scowl. “Neither!”
    “Don’t lie to me. I’m not a child.”
    “I’m not lying! I wouldn’t use the term lover for women of their sort,” he mumbled.
    “Oh. I see.”
    He shot her a glower and then looked away, clutching the papers in both hands as he stared very hard at them, sinking down a bit in his seat.
    Wickedly, she was rather enjoying his discomfiture. “So…what would you call them, then?” she asked after a while.
    He refused to look at her. “If you must know, they told me their names were Ginger and Velvet. So that’s what I call them.”
    She stifled a snort of ridicule. “ Ginger and Velvet ?”
    Jason eyed her, clearly hearing the humor in her voice and apparently relieved she had not fainted. He returned his gaze resolutely to the papers and mumbled, “I’d wager their real names are closer to Fannie and Jane, but, you know, I didn’t really ask.”
    “You mean you didn’t care,” she needled.
    “Obviously.”
    “Jason!”
    “What?” he bit out, tossing the folio aside. “I suppose you want me to apologize for something that doesn’t concern you. Fine, if it makes you feel better. I am sorry. Though for what, I am not sure.”
    “I don’t want your apology!”
    “What, then? What do you want from me, Felicity Carvel? Please tell me, because I’ve no blasted idea.”
    She knew exactly what he was talking about and shut her mouth abruptly.
    He waited as though daring her to admit something she never would.
    “I want you to be happy,” she managed at last. “And sane. And to stop killing yourself bit by bit and racing full tilt down the road to perdition.”
    There. It was close enough to telling him that she still cared. And frankly, she’d been dying to say those words to him for years—tell him what she really thought of his wild mode of life.
    “I see.” He tapped the pencil he’d been using as a pointer through the legal pages on the table a few times, then chucked even that aside.
    “See what?”
    “You’re going to sort me out, are you, my darling?” he taunted, the most cynical of challenges in his midnight eyes. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard this speech from well-meaning women?”
    She looked at him for a long moment, taken aback by the tactic. What could she do but shrug and deny it?
    “I’m not going to do anything with you, Jason. I tried that, as you’ll recall. It didn’t work.”
    “Oh, yes, I do