Page 13 of Daredevil Lady and the Mysterious Millionaire (The Hidden Hearts Collection #3)

Rory seated herself behind the massive desk and reached for a sheet of the paper, fine cream-colored vellum with the monogram of J.

E. Morrison printed on the top in letters as bold as the man himself.

As Rory picked up the pen, she tried to think how she was going to explain all of this to Tony, why she wouldn’t be here waiting when he arrived.

He wasn’t going to like it, the idea of her going off to supper with a strange man.

But Tony often presumed too much on the basis of old friendship, acting at times as domineering than her father had been.

She was Tony’s employer now, certainly not obliged to account to him for her movements.

Thus assuring herself, she dipped her pen into the inkwell and began to scratch out her plans for the evening in the most unvarnished terms, directing him to convey the balloon to the warehouse, where she would meet him later.

As she wrote, it was impossible not to be aware of Morrison’s presence.

He was so preoccupied with his telephone call, he appeared to have forgotten she was there, making it safe to steal peeks in his direction.

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop on his conversation, but it was hard to help it, Morrison was talking so loudly into the speaking piece.

It was not Zeke’s intention to shout, but as usual he was finding the new-fangled invention he had installed in his home a less than satisfactory means of communication. Addison sounded far away, as if he were at the end of a tunnel, with static causing even more interference than usual.

“I said Decker came by to see me this evening,” Zeke bellowed. “I think he’s scared. Things could get damned unpleasant.”

“What?” Addison’s voice crackled.

“Things could get ugly.” Zeke’s voice vibrated with annoyance at his inability to make himself understood. “Your windows could get smashed.”

Addison’s reply came in a garbled fashion that left Zeke barely able to distinguish every other word.” ... not surprised ... been uncovering something new ... will embarrass more ... not just Decker. Wait until you hear?—”

To Zeke’s frustration, he heard nothing but more static. “This is hopeless. Why don’t you just plan to meet with me tomorrow? The bar at Hoffman House. Four o’clock”

For a moment, Zeke thought he had been disconnected. Then he heard Addison repeat, “Hoffman House. At four.”

“Yes.” Recollecting the absentminded Addison’s habit of forgetting appointments, Zeke added, “And you damn well better be there.”

When he rang off, he slammed the receiver back onto its hook. The noise startled Miss Kavanaugh, and Zeke vented his irritation by complaining to her.

“Telephones! The most useless device ever conceived. You might as well try to shout across town.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said somewhat wistfully. “I’ve never used one.”

“They will never replace the telegraph or even a hand-delivered note. Speaking of notes, how is yours coming?”

“I’ve finished it,” she said, folding the paper in half.

“Good. Just leave it there on the desk and I’ll instruct Wellington to make sure your friend gets it when he arrives. Are you ready to go?”

Was she? Rory still wasn’t sure, but she nodded and rose to her feet. His bold gaze raked over her in an appraising stare. She lifted one hand to the neckline of her gown in a self-conscious gesture.

“Do I look all right?”

“You look just fine.” The words were simple, but he pitched his voice to a low timbre that caressed her as surely as if he had run the warm rough tips of his fingers along her bared flesh.

When Rory shivered, he added, “Of course, I know the temperature is dropping, so I thought you might be glad of this.”

Turning, he reached behind him for a lady’s garment that had been left draped over a chair.

It was a black velvet cloak with two shoulder capes, trimmed with braid the shade of primroses.

Rory had never seen anything so dainty or so elegant, but she eyed it dubiously.

She couldn’t imagine how a bachelor like Zeke Morrison would have such a thing in his possession unless it had been left here by that friend of his.

When Zeke moved to drape the cloak about Rory’s shoulders, she demurred. “No, thank you. I really don’t think I ought to borrow anything that belonged to her.”

“Her?” Zeke looked puzzled then understanding appeared to dawn on him.

“Mrs. Van Hallsburg?” He laughed. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have the brass to lend you anything of hers either. No, this cloak is merely a trifle I bought my niece for her birthday. She’s a very good-hearted girl and wouldn’t mind in the least your using it.”

His niece? Even she was not naive enough to swallow that one. But she made no further protest as Zeke settled the cloak about her, merely speculating on how many “nieces” a man like Morrison was likely to have.

But he was behaving like a gentleman so far, offering her his arm in a courtly fashion. Only the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. Rory prided herself on her ability to handle any situation, but maybe for once she had strayed out of her depth. Yet no Kavanaugh had ever backed down from a challenge.

She allowed Zeke to link her arm through his, meeting his bold stare with an equally direct look of her own. She had had a most eventful day, but she had a premonition. It wasn’t going to be anything compared with her night.