Page 26 of Rogue Lyon

“I see no reason why you can’t unless you don’t want to, in which case I will re-direct the driver.”

She looked into his eyes, so tempting, so alluring, so damn seductive. She could fall into them, lose herself, drown happily. “And what will we do at your house?”

“To start with, we will warm up, then I will pour you a glass of port wine; I know you like that. And finally, I will show you some of my art collection.”

“You have an art collection at home?”

“Art is my trade, so yes, I have art. Though the majority of the pieces in my home are not for sale. I own them because I love them.”

“So they are for your eyes only?”

“For now, yes.”

A huge crash of thunder bellowed around the carriage. One of the horses whinnied and they lurched in and out of a pothole.

“Luckily, it is not far,” he said, taking her hand and holding it tightly. “And then we will be out of this storm.”

Meredith swallowed. Why did she get the feeling she was about to alight into another type of storm, one which had rid her of the ability to say no to a handsome, charming, and intriguing man?

Chapter Seven

Jules shook out Meredith’s umbrella then set it in the stand beside his rather grand front door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“It doesn’t look humble.” She stared around the huge entrance hall with wide eyes. “That chandelier is bigger than all of the ones in the gaming room at the Lyon’s Den.”

“Yes, it was a favorite of my mother’s.”

“Tell me about her?”

His heart gave a familiar squeeze. “Not much to tell, really. I never knew her. She died in childbirth.”

Pain flashed over her eyes. “I am so sorry.” She touched the damp sleeve of his jacket.

“My father never wed again; he was too heartbroken. Thus, I have no siblings.”

She sighed and it was as if a real sadness had come over her. “And your father?”

“I lost him several years ago. He was a successful man of business, his finger in many pies, but banking, mainly.”

“You have suffered a lot of loss.” She shook her head. “That is hard for anyone, even more so without family to console you.”

He turned away and shrugged off his jacket. Times had been hard. Not financially—his father had seen to that—but he’d been lonely, lacking a companion of the same mindset as him.

Meredith was quiet, leaving him alone to his thoughts for a few moments. He then pulled in a deep breath and grinned. “I can smell beef stew, can you?”

She tipped her head and sniffed delicately. “I do believe I can.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I suppose a little.”

“Good.” He gestured toward the parlor. “Why don’t you take a seat and I will inform Cook that we are here.”

He found Cook in the large kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. Her round cheeks were red and her hair was making a mad dash for freedom from the white cotton bun she had pinned it into. “It smells delightful,” he said with a grin.

“Oh, there you are, sir. I was wondering where you were in this storm.” The kitchen window lit up with another bright flash.

“I am home now, and I have company. She is hungry. Is the stew ready?”