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"Indeed I did." Anastasia bit back her laughter. "I'm not stupid, my lord. I know when I'm being approached for an immoral liaison. Just as I know when I'm being rescued. Speaking of which, now that you've accomplished your valiant rescue, could you stop looking so fierce? People will think I'm an excruciating dancer, too trying to endure."
Damen's lips twitched. "We can't have that now, can we?" He whirled her about. "Very well. I'll try to look as if I'm having a wonderful time."
"And is that so difficult to manage?"
His smile faded. "The only difficulty tonight will be my keeping the proper distance from you. That, and restraining myself from breaking Gilbert's nose."
Anastasia's heart gave a tiny leap, and she studied Damen's face, wondering at the precise meaning of his comment. Was he referring to retaining the immediate physical distance between them, or to a far more significant, long-term distance?
Their gazes locked.
"Are you all right?" Damen asked quietly. "Your uncle's announcement obviously upset you."
She gave a small shrug. "Not upset me, angered me. The reasons why have nothing to do with the announcement itself, but with its underlying meaning. I'm not sure I can explain."
"You don't have to."
Taking in Damen's hard tone, the grim lines about his mouth, Anastasia tried to figure out whether he was alluding to the fact that he didn't want to pry or to the fact that he already knew what she was feeling.
Either way, his compassion warranted some sort of response.
"Perhaps not," she conceded. "But I'll try just the same. You see, Uncle George made that pointed reference to my severing all ties with the States for a reason. He was blatantly condemning the idea of my starting a bank there. Knowing my uncle, I suppose I should have been prepared for his reaction to my plan. But after ten years, it seems I'm out of practice."
Memories flickered to the surface and brought a wave of sadness to Anastasia's eyes. "Once upon a time I was accustomed to Uncle George's rules, especially with regard to anything that might undermine him or cause him embarrassment. Both of which would definitely result from a Colby pursuing a business venture that not only excludes him but that puts a woman—his niece, no less—at the helm." She stared at the wool of Damen's coat, reflecting on how
foolish she'd been to forget her uncle's rigid beliefs. "It was naive of me not to realize he'd feel that way. And it was equally naive not to realize that one of his colleagues would tell him what I'd been up to. In any case, that announcement was Uncle George's way of putting me in my place."
"I wonder if he has any idea what your place is."
Anastasia blinked, her gaze darting back to Damen's. She was taken aback by the fervor of his statement, and its remarkable accuracy. "I doubt it, Lord Sheldrake," she replied softly.
"Damen."
"Damen," she corrected herself, with a small smile.
Abruptly, that smile vanished. "Something else just occurred to me, something I should have thought of before now. Will the outcome of my actions tonight—namely, our partnership—jeopardize your business relationship with Uncle George?"
The severe lines on Damen's face softened, and a hint of satisfaction glinted in his eyes. "I like the sound of my name on your lips," he murmured. "And, no, your uncle won't let his disapproval of our partnership interfere with his dealings with my bank or me."
Anastasia pursed her lips, still unconvinced. Given Damen's role in Uncle George's life and the powerful position he held on the board of Colby and Sons, it was doubtful he'd even seen the dark side of Uncle George, much less dealt with it. But Anastasia had. And she didn't want to be responsible for Damen's encountering it now. "Perhaps I shouldn't mention the partnership to him."
"If you don't, I will. And not only because the man is your guardian." Damen's fingers tightened around hers. "Anastasia, I'm not in the habit of explaining or defending my investment decisions, not unless those decisions involve my clients' funds. But when the funds in question are my own, I answer to no one but myself. If your uncle is uncomfortable about the partnership you and I struck, that's his problem, not mine. And definitely not yours. All right?"
A hesitant nod. "All right."
"There's still something troubling you," he pressed.
Anastasia quirked a brow. "You really do read minds."
"Um-hum." Damen shot her a broad grin. "Even while I'm dancing. As you yourself said, without missing a step."
His teasing relaxed her into her customary candor.
"Very well, then. It's Breanna. I feel guilty. You should be dancing with her, not me."
Damen frowned, although he didn't look startled by her admission. "You worry about your cousin a great deal, don't you?"
"Yes. I did, even as a child. Probably because I had reason to."
