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“Manuela,” the duchess conceded, her gaze locked somewhere between Manuela’s shoulder and neck. “I invited you here because I’d like to buy your land in Puerto Cabello.”
So much for Luz Alana’s prediction that there would be no business talk. She sounded friendly enough, but the set of her mouth displayed her irritation at having her plans thwarted by Manuela’s identity.
“Cora, can I call you Cora?” It wasn’t a question, but the duchess nodded tightly and Manuela almost laughed in her face. Even when she knew she was in a bind the woman could not stand not being in command. It wasn’t that she was irritated at the duchess—well, no, that wasn’t true. She was supremely annoyed and also highly aroused, which was frankly rude. It was just that she’d built up such a grandiose reunion in her head, and it was such a disappointment to havethisbe the way in which she met this woman again. But Manuela had navigated much more treacherous waters with far less of an advantage, and she was finding it surprisingly invigorating to have some leverage for once. “Baluarte isn’t for sale,” Manuela finally replied, in a cloying tone that made one of the duchess’s eyes twitch. She recovered quickly and leaned in again, and this time her voice was pure ice.
“Everything is for sale for the right price. Tell me yours.”
Manuela took another sip from her coupe and took her time responding. She also noticed the way Cora’s eyes slid from her mouth down to her bosom. She was not the only one here recalling their last tête-à-tête. “I have no need for money. My fiancé is one of the wealthiest men in South America. He can provide me with absolutely everything I could wish for.”
Not everything, a nagging voice very similar to that of the woman sitting across from her resounded in Manuela’s head.
“But this could beyourmoney,” the duchess cajoled. “I can arrange for it to be held in a place your new husband won’t find it.”
Manuela wasn’t insulted by the suggestion that she might need a secret stash of money in case she needed to escape her marriage. It was the suggestion that this deal was supposed to be for her own benefit that angered her. It was the same way Felix talked to her, with this facade of benevolence, as if his only concern was her well-being. But to Felix, to her parents, to this duchess, Manuela was just the means to them getting whattheywere after. Status, money, a railroad. She always gave in, went with the path of least resistance, convinced herself that if the result brought her some benefits it was not worth the trouble of fighting back. That she could be content with the outcome. She didn’t feel like settling for resignation today.
“Like I said, I don’t need money.” Manuela infused her voice with as much bored indifference as she could manage.
“Everyone needs money, especially women who don’t have a fortune of their own to fall back on. With the sale of Baluarte, you could have that.” The duchess took a sip of her own wine, and Manuela’s eyes followed every move. The way her strong, long fingers curled around the stem, the way she tipped her head slightly to drink. The tantalizing sight of a pink tongue as she lapped up a drop of wine from her lip.
“I’m not interested.”
“We’ve already made you a very generous offer, and I am prepared to increase it.” She waved a hand at whatever she saw in Manuela’s face. “I know it can be so gauche to talk about money, particularly for women of our social realm.”
“Oursocial realm.” Manuela almost rolled her eyes at the false overture. Like a duchess would ever consider a Venezuelan heiress to be of her ilk. Manuela almost laughed, but she was becoming quite curious about how much more of this conviviality she could coax out of the duchess before her patience snapped.
“That’s correct. I am certain we can reach an understanding today, woman to woman.” It was on the tip of Manuela’s tongue to tell the duchess she could think of far more interesting ways in which they could come together...woman to woman.
“The thing is, Your Grace, the understanding won’t be about what the land is worth to me but what it is worthto you.” Manuela leaned on the table at an angle that she knew placed her assets in their most favorable light. “When you sent your agent with an offer a few months ago, I didn’t respond to you, but I did make some inquiries about your railway.”
The Duchess of Sundridge was clearly not expecting that, and her relaxed posture quickly returned to one of heightened alert. She’d probably arrived here thinking she’d make quick work of Manuela. Bowl over the unrefined foreigner with champagne and an empty restaurant before she talked her out of her land. But just because Manuela didn’t like to think about money didn’t mean she didn’t know how.
“I know how much your group is set to lose if you can’t finish the railway, and I also know I am your last resort. Which means that the sum you suggested is about a quarter of what I expect to be paid. Are you prepared to increase your offer by that much?”
A small, impressed smile appeared on the older woman’s lips, flushing Manuela with heat. Irritating negotiations or not, she was still very much feeling the echoes of that kiss.
“Very good, Manuela,” the duchess said flatteringly, weakening Manuela’s resolve ever so slightly. “I like a woman who drives a hard bargain.” That comment went right to her core, and she had to turn away for a moment. It would not do to melt to the floor after a little bit of calculated praise. She reached for one of the oysters, then thought better of it and slid off her glove. She fluttered her gaze up to the duchess as she took one of the shells between her fingers and brought it to her mouth. If the duchess was going to use every piece of ammunition at her disposal, Manuela would do the same.
“I love oysters.” Delicately she slid the tip of her tongue over the mollusk and had to hide a grin when Cora sucked in a breath. “It’s the brine, the salty tang of it.” She was being crass now, provocative in a way that was not at all appropriate, but she couldn’t make herself care. “I adore the taste.” She chucked back the chewy bite and moaned with pleasure, without taking her eyes off the duchess for a moment.
The air sizzled around them as she daintily dabbed the sides of her mouth with a napkin. The duchess licked her dry lips nervously, and Manuela finally felt like she had some footing in this conversation.
“What if I told you that my price isn’t just money?” Manuela heard herself ask. The duchess arched a manicured eyebrow.
“Go on,” she said, leaning back in her chair, her legs crossed, and that’s when Manuela noticed that she wore split skirts like Aurora.
“I prefer you in trousers.”
The duchess took the shot in stride, obviously resigned to the fact that Manuela would not let go their previous meeting. “And I prefer you in dresses that accentuate that wonderful bosom of yours.” The wicked smile she sent in Manuela’s direction was brimming with such promise her skin tightened. But just as quickly, the warmth drained from the woman’s face, and her expression hardened. “I warn you, Manuela. If you think you can talk me into a higher price by holding my personal life over my head, it won’t end well for you.”
“Oh, I have no intention of doing that,” Manuela assured her and decided she’d played this game long enough. She winced at the thought of what Aurora would say, but she was a little drunk on finally having a bargaining chip, and she’d use it to get exactly what she wanted. “You can buy my land, but it will cost you more than money.” The duchess trained her canny eyes on Manuela, her gaze unwavering.
“I will make sure you get whatever it is you want,” she said impatiently, but Manuela heard the trepidation in her voice. This woman did not like being at a disadvantage, and unfortunately for her, Manuela found that she very much enjoyed holding all the cards.
“I am very pleased to hear that, Your Grace. And I must admit you were right, everyone has a price, even me.” She leaned back, crossed her own legs in a mirror image of the duchess’s own pose, the stem of the coupe dangling between them. She stretched the moment out until her companion’s demeanor was so strained Manuela thought she’d leap across the table, demanding she open her mouth. Finally she spoke. “My price is you.”
Five
Throughout her life, Cora had prided herself in thinking on her feet. She’d endeavored to develop an ability to look at a problem and calmly consider the possible solutions. In fact, it was that set of skills which had earned her reputation among the men she did business with. While her associates raged and ranted, she could calmly assess her next move and discern the best option. More than once she’d heard them expound on her equanimity being one of the reasons they could tolerate doing business with a woman. She had what they considered the nerves of a man. But now, the only thing her mind seemed to offer up was the realization that she was still dying to kiss that mouth. Even when her indiscretion from the night before could quite possibly ruin her plans for the railway.
