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How could she castigate Uncle Hugh for his bad judgments, she thought, when she’d made worse decisions?

And yet, she found herself drinking in the sight of Colin. His hair was mussed, when it ordinarily looked smooth, and his jaw was shadowed, when he was normally groomed.

“May I come in?” he asked, his manner steady.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Sawyer has graciously lent me his apartment, too, while I’m in London.”

“How kind of him.” She lifted her chin. “One wonders at the need for it, considering just how many properties you have acquired lately.”

“The Mayfair town house is rented out.”

“Oh, yes, how can I forget? Your act of noblesse oblige. Uncle Hugh sends his regards.”

Colin bit off a helpless laugh. “I suppose I deserve that.”

“Surely your mother and sister would offer you a sofa to sleep on in London.”

“Perhaps Sawyer thought my home was here with you.”

Belinda felt suddenly flush with emotion.

“With so many properties at your disposal?” she forced herself to scoff.

Colin looked at her steadily. “As a matter of fact, those properties are the reason I’m here.”

She tensed. “I thought you would have let your attorney do the talking.”

He grimaced. “Do we have to have this discussion on the doorstep?”

Reluctantly, she moved out of the way.

He stepped inside and removed his overcoat. It was an overcast day, typical of London but not rainy—yet. Under his coat, he wore a white open-collar shirt over dark trousers.

Belinda was glad she was presentable herself, though she’d had to use cucumber patches for her puffy eyes this morning. She had, however, showered and dressed. She’d donned a blue belted shirtdress, tights and flats shortly before Colin’s arrival.

After Colin folded his coat and placed it on a nearby chair, she turned and walked farther into the flat, leaving him to follow her.

She stopped in the parlor and turned back to face him.

Despite appearing a bit careworn, he was still imposing—tall, broad and ruthless. And yet she remembered his achingly soft caresses and his whispered words of promise.

Like a bad angel, she thought with a twist of the heart.

“The Elmer Street property is not being sold,” he announced.

She blinked.

It had not been the announcement that she’d expected from him. She had thought he was here to negotiate with her about their future.

“I thought it was a done deal,” she finally said.

“The sale was in contract, but the parties had yet to sign.”

“Oh.” She paused. “What made you change your mind?”

He searched her eyes. “I decided it would be better to sell the property to you—”

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