Free Tall, Dark and Disreputable by Deb Marlowe

Portia Tofton. It could only be dangerous, given the awkwardness in their past and the volatility of their present. The old ease that they’d felt together was gone. Long ago they had taken comfort in each other’s company, had often ridden out together like this, in companionable silence. But everything had changed.
    Everything about their current situation rang problematic, but it was more than that. He was acutely aware of her, in a manner he had not expected. Like a man was aware of a pretty, vibrant woman. Or like a man on top of a powder keg warily eyed a burning brand.
    Mateo spurred his mount to a faster pace. He would set aside his emotions, make the necessary transactions and he would be gone. As she said, in this fashion they would both get what they wanted. And then they would move on.
    Horatio Rankin kept them waiting. It had to be a calculated move on his part, for his dour clerk had at first assured them that Mr Rankin was free. When he’d come shuffling back from his master’s office, though, the clerk had sourly informed them that they would have to wait. And wait they had, for nearly an hour.
    Portia was not annoyed in the slightest. She was feeling quite in charity with the world, and most particularly with Mateo Cardea. It seemed nothing had changed between them, and everything had. Out of the pack of her brothers and their friends, he’d always been the one to treat her with consideration, the one who had taken her seriously. It was the reason why she’d pinned her hopes for Stenbrooke on him, and he had lived up to all of her expectations.
    She watched him wander from one corner of the dingy office window to the other and back again, the embodiment of restless motion, and she knew that Mateo had not changed. Worse, she knew that the feelings she’d once harboured for him had.
    She’d been a girl all those years ago, and she’d wanted him with a girl’s vague yearnings for a boy. Now she was a woman, a widow. Her eyes followed him, alive and vibrant with suppressed energy and impatience, the only thing worth watching in this bleak and barren space, and this time she knew just what she yearned for.
    It would not do. There was too much unsaid between them, and in any case she could feel the resentment simmeringjust under the surface of his calm civility. This situation might not be of her making, but she still stood as the figurehead of all that had befallen him. No. It would be better all the way around if they just finished their business and parted ways.
    He sighed in exasperation and bent low, his hands on the window sill as he stared at the bustling activity outside. A tiny smile played at the corners of Portia’s mouth. In the meantime, she would allow herself to enjoy the view.
    She started as he cursed suddenly and whirled to face the silently scribbling clerk. ‘By all that’s holy, can you not check to see what is delaying the man?’
    The scratching of the man’s pen stopped. The small sound was replaced by his long-suffering sigh. Casting Mateo a look of extreme annoyance, he slid from his high chair and creaked his way down the hall.
    Once he’d gone, Mateo smiled and dropped himself on to the bench next to her. Portia returned his smile. She enjoyed the warm feel of him next to her nearly as much as she’d appreciated his backside view.
    She cocked her head at him. ‘Rankin is a horrid little man,’ she said. ‘He’s likely trying to goad us.’
    ‘Aye, I began to suspect as much,’ said Mateo. ‘But I thought we should discuss the question—why? He cannot know exactly what we wish to discuss, and even if he did, why should he seek to unsettle us? Or perhaps he only hopes we will leave? But again, why?’
    Portia shrugged. ‘I put it down to his ill nature.’
    ‘Surely there is more to it than that? And I give himwhat he wants, eh? The old one will report that my temper is heated to boiling.’He scrubbed his hands vigorously through his dark curls. ‘So—do I look