Free Something Sinful by Suzanne Enoch Page B

saying, we are business rivals. Would you give a male rival a…whatever this is?” She produced the velvet bag from her reticule.
    Charlemagne hesitated, honesty warring with the instinct to maintain a position of strength. “Probably not that particular item, but a token of respect wouldn’t be out of the question, no.”
    Her gaze lowered to the bag, then returned to him again. “A token of respect? Is that what it is?”
    If it would induce her to keep it, she could call it whatever she liked. “Yes. I merely thought you might appreciate it.”
    “So it has nothing to do with our negotiations, then.”
    “Not a thing.”
    “I see.” She lifted her hand and held the pouch out over the road. “Then I could discard it, and nothing would change.”
    “Dis—” He cleared his throat, setting aside the thought that he’d spent two bloody hours picking it out. “Yes, I suppose so. It would be a shame to see it trampled by horses, though, if I may point that out.”
    Abruptly she lowered the pouch to her lap and sat forward to glare at him. “How can you give me a gift that’s worth more than the entire shipment of silks, tell me it has nothing to do with our negotiations, and when I threaten to drop it, merely point out that horses might trample it? It’s ridiculous!” She threw it at his chest. “And it’s a bribe of some sort. I won’t accept it.”
    His momentary satisfaction over the fact that she had opened the pouch twisted into consternation as he reflexively caught the bundle. “Don’t you like it?”
    “Of course I like it. But I can’t wear it without someone wondering who gave it to me, and I won’t wear it if you think it obligates me to sell you the silks. Especially not if you think it constitutes payment for them.”
    “I actually didn’t think much beyond the fact that it would look well on you,” he answered, inwardly swearing at himself. He’d wanted to know how she would view the gift, if it would flatter her and soften her resistance to his maneuverings, business and personal. He had his answer; she’d looked at it from every angle, just as he had, and obviously she hadn’t been so much as tempted to keep it, whether it was worth twice what the silks were, or not. Damnation. He’d underestimated her. Again. “You said you like it, so keep it.”
    “No. Not even if you swear to me that my keeping it won’t alter our business rivalry, or the fact that you, being wealthy enough to purchase a ruby on a whim, must pay me six thousand pounds if you want those silks.”
    “What? Six thousand pounds? I told you that it wasn’t a bribe.”
    “So your intentions are matrimonial?”
    He actually had to work not to blush. “And why the devil do you assume that?”
    “Because when I tell my parents where it came from, that is exactly what they’ll assume. And so will everyone else.”
    “No one will know where it came from. I purchased it from a small shop in Greenwich, told the fellow it was for my niece.” He hadn’t completely lost his mind, after all.
    “ I will know where it came from, Lord Charlemagne. I had hoped that we could conduct this negotiation in a professional manner, but obviously you have a different idea. For your information, I have sent out several inquiries regarding the silks, and expect to hear offers as soon as this afternoon.”
    “Sarala, I—”
    “You may let us out here, my lord.”
    For a heartbeat he glared at her. “Tollins, here.”
    “Yes, my lord.” The barouche rolled smoothly to a stop.
    Charlemagne stood to open the door, then stepped down to help Sarala and her maid to the ground. “I beg your pardon if I’ve offended your sensibilities,” he said stiffly, “and I hope my offer of a gift hasn’t removed me from the competition.”
    He hoped he sounded contrite; he meant to. In his defense, he was unused to both apologies and to making excuses. Hell, on the rare occasions he gave women gifts, they generally just said thank you