When Tempting a Rogue (3 page)

Oh well,
he thought as he drained his cup. At least with an audience Vienne wouldn’t shoot him for stepping onto her precious site.

At least, he didn’t think she would.

L
a Rieux’s was going to be the most incredible shopping experience British women ever enjoyed, Vienne promised herself as she moved through one of the buildings that would be altered, or demolished, to make way for her dream. Her location was situated just west of where Mr. Harrod had recently begun expanding his own enterprise, but east of where Mr. Whiteley opened his—on the cusp of the Bayswater and Knightsridge neighborhoods, just south of Hyde Park. It was the
perfect
location for aristocratic ladies to come and spend their husbands’ money. There would be dressmakers of the finest caliber, glove makers and milliners too. She would offer perfumes and soaps, the finest cosmetics and powders. And shoes! Oh, the beautiful linens and housewares that would be available as well! Everything a lady could ever want, all under one roof. It made her giddy just thinking about it.

Of course, there were others before her, but her emporium was going to be the finest and the best. The most exclusive. The place little girls aspired to visit when they were grown and had money of their own. And she would be the woman that little girls who could never marry rich husbands would want to emulate. This wasn’t just about taking as much aristocratic money as she could; this was also about showing the world what a determined woman could do.

She stopped on the first-floor landing and looked out the window at the busy street below. Thank God for Angelwood and his loan. It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of such business, but it was an extra amount she would never have been able to come up with on her own. She was a wealthy woman, but she already had most of what she owned invested in Saint’s Row. She refused to think about what might happen if it all fell apart. She would be ruined. Back to relying on nothing but her own wits.

It would be easy to find a man all too willing to “take care” of her.
Too
easy. She would be a trophy for many, some of whom would like nothing better than to see her powerless.
No
. She’d crawl on her belly to Trystan Kane before she let that happen. Trystan would save her.

For that reason alone she vowed she would drown herself in the Serpentine before she would allow this venture to fail—because the last person she wanted coming to her rescue was Trystan Kane. The boy would take the job far too seriously for either of their safety.

As though the devil himself knew the direction of her thoughts, she caught sight of Trystan Kane exiting a carriage just below the window. He was with his brother Lord Archer, a man with secrets behind his eyes. Vienne knew his type well because she was that type herself. Sadie and Indara were with them; no doubt that was how Trystan had managed to find his way to this particular part of the city. She couldn’t refuse to see him. After all, he was one of her investors. If he decided to pull out because of her rudeness, she would have to find someone else to invest his portion. She had waited long enough for this, and wasn’t about to wait any longer.

Her gaze settled on the younger man. There was a few years difference in their ages? But when they’d had their affair it had felt more like full decades between them. He’d been so fresh and young and she’d . . . well, she’d already seen more of life by four and twenty than most women ever experienced, or ever should for that matter.

Funny how a few years could alter a person. She didn’t notice much of a difference in her own face, but she sensed that, when Trystan looked at her since his return, he’d noticed a few new lines around her eyes. Did he wonder now what he had ever seen in a body as lived-in as hers? Or, did he suffer the same pangs of regretful attraction and annoying happiness whenever their paths met as she did?

He had aged well, her boy.
No
. No longer a boy; he looked like a man now—a fact that made her all the more anxious to stay as far away from him as she could. He had stubble on his jaw and lines around his eyes; even a few on his brow and around his mouth. Did he not have a birthday this month? He had to be close to thirty now.

He glanced up. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized her fingers were pressed to the window, as though reaching for him through the glass. Their gazes met. She jerked her hand away and stepped back from the window, out of his line of sight.

Her heart was pounding. She brought her hand up against the soft dark green merino of her jacket, feeling the coolness of the brass buttons beneath her palm. Why such a fearful reaction to a lover who had never been anything but respectful and generous to her?

Perhaps that was an answer in itself, but Vienne had no time for such useless contemplation. Instead, she straightened her clothes, adjusted the set of her jaunty hat, and went down the stairs to confront . . .
er,
welcome her guests.

Sadie and Indara were all apologetic smiles when she greeted them, each with a kiss on either of their cheeks. She did not blame them for this not entirely unwelcome intrusion, knowing how persuasive Trystan could be.

“Gentlemen,” she said, her gaze flitting over both of them, “how lovely of the two of you to stop by. There isn’t much to see just yet, I’m afraid.”

“Just seeing you is pleasure enough, Madame La Rieux,” Lord Archer replied with his trademark lopsided grin. He was one of the few men who had never taken advantage of the grottos and private rooms at Saint’s Row, despite his reputation as a lothario. She found that odd and yet somehow endearing, and returned a smile to his before allowing her attention to drift to his brother, the younger Kane—who wasn’t looking at her at all, but rather surveying the inside of the empty building.

“You’ll be tearing this down?” he asked as he moved deeper into the room.

“Actually, this building will remain, save for the side walls. The two flanking structures will be demolished and rebuilt to match the exterior of this one. They will be connected, but I want to create the feeling of crossing thresholds into new shopping departments. Each space will occupy a unique yet easily accessible area.”

He nodded, as though giving his approval—something she found a little strange, but nothing she hadn’t experience before where men were concerned. They seemed so surprised when a woman had a sound plan or thought.

“Household goods in its own building?”

“Yes, with a tearoom on the bottom floor so ladies might refresh themselves.”

“Brilliant. I assume you’ll have a powder room as well?”

How polite the English were when asking about toilets. One would think they never defecated. “Of course. Also a delivery service so maids and footmen don’t have to carry all the purchases. Plus, I plan to offer credit for regular customers—at a fair rate of interest, of course.”

He turned his head just enough to smile at her, as though they shared a private joke. “Of course.”

In response, Vienne’s heart gave a traitorous thump in her chest. He had the
most
wicked of grins—which
always
made her a little weak in the knees. It was as though all the world existed only for his enjoyment and he wanted only to share it with her.

“How about a tour, Vienne?” Sadie suggested. “You can talk to us about how it will look and allow us to imagine it.”

Trystan turned to her. “Will you be running the tearoom, Madame Moon?”

Sadie looked at her and Vienne gave a small nod. She didn’t mind if Sadie told him. He was Sadie’s landlord, after all. “It will be another very much like the one I’m opening in your building on Bond Street, yes.”

He nodded. “Having your name attached will definitely be a boon.”

Sadie lit up under the praise. Vienne might have rolled her eyes were it anyone else, but her friend deserved every kind thing anyone had to say about her.

“If the four of you would care to follow me, I would be happy to give you a tour of the premises such as they are,” she offered. Of course they all readily agreed, not that they would dream of being rude enough to refuse, not even if their feet had fallen off. It was a delightful little quirk she’d learned to love about this country, even though it had driven her to distraction when she’d first arrived in London.

Vienne led them through the ground floor first, pointing out where the wall would be knocked out to provide entry into the neighboring building, and described the store section that would reside there. Then she led them up the stairs and repeated the process, showing them where the lift would be so ladies and, in particular, their help wouldn’t have to carry packages up and down flights of stairs. It would also be easier for elderly or infirm ladies to do their shopping.

“You truly have thought of everything,” Lord Archer remarked as they walked. “I’m impressed, Madame La Rieux. If I weren’t a dedicated bachelor, I might have to marry you.”

Vienne took the remark in the spirit it was meant. “Then let us be happy for such dedication, Lord Archer, for I would make a terrible wife.” They shared a chuckle even though Vienne noticed Trystan didn’t seem to join in the mirth. He merely smiled absently and peered out a window at the street below.

After she had taken them through the entire building, they returned to the ground floor, where Sadie and Indara announced it was time for them to depart.

“Madame La Rieux, if you have a moment, there is something I would like to discuss with you,” Trystan remarked as the ladies made ready to depart.

Vienne blinked. She hadn’t expected him to make such a request. Still, it wasn’t an odd one. He was an investor, so perhaps he had questions he didn’t want to bore the others by asking in front of them.

“Of course, Lord Trystan. I have a little time before I must return to Saint’s Row.”

“I will accompany the ladies home,” Archer said, offering each an arm. Vienne thought Indara hesitated a moment before accepting.

“You are too kind, Lord Archer,” Sadie demurred.

“Nonsense,” the nobleman replied. “I simply cannot resist surrounding myself with beautiful women.”

He said it so smoothly even Vienne almost believed it. Yes, she had known many men like Lord Archer. Why couldn’t his younger brother be more like him?

When the trio had departed, she was left entirely alone with Trystan. She wasn’t concerned that he sought to renew their prior acquaintance, for she saw no amount of caring or emotion in his remarkable blue eyes. In fact, he was almost totally devoid of expression.

“What did you wish to speak about with me?” There were times, when she was nervous that English still felt awkward on her tongue, and she wondered if she had spoken correctly. This was one of those times when the words seemed wrong.

If she had spoken incorrectly, Trystan either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it. “This,” he replied, handing her a slip of paper.

Vienne didn’t frown. Frowning gave a woman wrinkles, her mother used to say. Yet, more times than naught, she ended up with her brow furrowed, but she didn’t want to look any older than she was in front of him. The urge to frown grew as she realized the paper was from her own desk.

It was the marker she gave Angelwood.

“
How
did you get this?” she demanded.

“I won it,” he replied coolly. “Last night at cards. Don’t even think of tearing it up; it’s a binding contract.”

She knew that, damn him to hell. “What do you intend to do with it?”

“I had thought to collect.”

“I don’t have that kind of money readily available—”
Didn’t have it at all!

“I don’t want money.”

Vienne stiffened. So this is what it came to. Had the wonderful young man she had shared her bed with truly sunk so low? She thrust the paper at him. “What
do
you want?”

He took it and refolded it, forcing her to wait as he slipped it into his inside breast pocket. “I want an additional two percent share in the emporium scheme.”

She could have laughed, her initial relief was so great. “Is that all?”

He nodded. “That is all.”

“Fine. Come by the club later today. I’ll have the paperwork drawn up.”

Trystan offered his hand. “Shall we shake on it, then?”

She stared at his hand. It looked bigger than she remembered, but perhaps it was the gloves he wore. “Do you not trust my word, Lord Trystan?”

“Just treating this as I would any other transaction, Madame La Rieux.” Meaning, she realized, that he was treating her just as he would any man. The thought pleased her—
almost
as much as it irritated her.

She slipped her hand into his, gasping slightly as the strength of his long fingers closed around hers. “We have an accord,” she said. “Two percent in exchange for the marker.” Why hadn’t she thought to make Angelwood the same offer? Losing two percent still gave her the controlling share in the venture. She’d been very careful not to allow any one investor to buy in too deeply as to upset her control of the project. Even with the two percent gone, she still had a full fifty percent of her own.

“Very good,” Trystan replied, releasing her hand. “I will come by at three. I have many ideas I would like to discuss with you for the venture. I would like to see your architect’s designs as well.”