Page 6 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
He crossed one long leg over the other, resting his ankle on the opposite knee, and studied her intently. Ellie felt her body heat.
“Quite the contrary. I’ve decided to go straight.”
“Because you’ve realized the error of your ways?”
“Of course not. I’d do precisely the same again, given the chance.” He sent her an unrepentant grin. “But a good player knows when it’s time to quit the game. One can possess extraordinary talent, but the element of chance can never be discounted. A single, unexpected event can ruin the best-laid plans, which is why the most successful criminals are the ones you’ve never heard of. They’re the ones who stopped before they were caught, whose executions never made the news sheets, who lived out their days in blissful obscurity.”
Ellie shook her head, even as she smiled. “You’ve decided to stop before your luck runs out?”
“Precisely. I have no desire to be the richest man in the cemetery. Wise men do it for the money. Dead men do it for the fame.”
“But why are you here?”
“For the same reason you’re working for ‘Charles King.’”
“Which is…?”
“Stimulation.”
Her brows shot up and he chuckled. “Let me clarify that. You, Ellie Law, have a brilliant, enquiring mind. You need to fill your days with something challenging, something rewarding, or you’ll go completely mad.”
Ellie’s heart gave an odd little twist. This man was a stranger, a criminal, the complete antithesis of everything she stood for, and yet he could read her as easily as if she were an open book. She felt exposed,seen, as if he’d delved into the deepest part of her soul and pulledout all her frustrations and desires, her drive and ambition, and laid them out on the floor.
His lips curved as he watched her face, and he tilted his head. “And besides, you need me.”
She didn’t hide her instinctive snort. “How have you arrived at that conclusion?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase ‘it takes a thief to catch a thief’?”
“Of course.”
“It comes from an Ancient Greek chap called Callimachus. He said, ‘Being a thief myself, I recognize the tracks of a thief.’”
“You’re very well-read, for a criminal.”
“The two are not mutually exclusive. I’m sure you’re very well-read, too, for an investigator. Either way, you must see there are obvious benefits to having an ex-criminal by your side in a professional capacity. Someone who knows every trick in the book.”
It was Ellie’s turn to laugh. “You want to work with me? At King and Company?”
“Precisely. You’re successful now, but just think how muchmoresuccessful you could be with my help.”
“So you want a job? A salary?”
He waved his hand in an elegant, dismissive gesture. “Pfft, no. I’ve enough money to last me two lifetimes. Three, probably. What I need is a vocation. A reason to get up in the mornings.”
“You could do what most other rich, bored gentlemen do. Buy a stable of racehorses, join a club like White’s or Brooks’s, spend a fortune at the tailors and bootmakers on Bond Street.”
He indicated his beautifully fitted boots. “Ialreadyspend a fortune on Bond Street. Horse racing is dull. Andmost of the men who drink and game their days away in the clubs are even duller.”
“With your particular skills, you should become a politician,” she said cynically.
“And be surrounded by even more crooks? No thank you. I might as well take lodgings in Newgate.”
He sent her a pathetic, pleading look, like that of a puppy begging for a morsel of ham. “Think of me as a rehabilitation project. If I’m not helping you solve crimes, I’ll be so bored I’ll start committing them again, which is not a good outcome for anyone.”
Ellie rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness.
“Saving me from a sticky end on the gallows would be an act of mercy,” he pressed. “Employing me would practically be a public service. You’ll be preventing as many crimes as you’ll be solving.”