Read Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] for Free Online Page B

his legacy had already been insured by the birth of twin boys a year before. Drat the woman for already having her figure back.
    The women smiled, but no one answered. Ana waitedas the awkward silence stretched and finally realized that Lucas was staring at her , eyebrows raised. He meant for her to be his conduit in introduction.
    “Er—Yes, good evening, Mr. Tyler,” she managed to croak. The women in the group spun on her with surprise mirrored in every gaze. After all, she hadn’t spoken up about an acquaintance with Lucas when they were fawning over him like debutantes. “How—How nice to see you again.”
    He smiled, but again she noticed the tightness around his mouth, the tension in his forehead. “Yes, it has been a while. Since your last charity ball, was it not?”
    Ana nodded, following his lead. “Yes. You were quite”—she swallowed hard—“helpful in obtaining funds at the last function.”
    He nodded in encouragement, and her pounding heart began to slow to a more normal rate. “I beg your pardon, how rude of me. Have you met these ladies?” she asked, motioning to the staring group.
    “I have seen many of them, but I don’t believe I’ve been formally introduced.” Lucas flashed a winning grin that showed off the dimples Emily had mentioned. Despite herself, Ana’s heart did a strange little flip.
    Gripping her hands into fists, she gave the introductions and watched as Lucas exhibited every asset he had as a spy. He actually listened to each name, staring at the women long enough to recall their faces, but not so long as to be forward. He repeated their namesas if he were putting them to memory, just as she sometimes did with tricky elements in a code.
    “Well,” he said with a bow when the pleasantries had been exchanged, “I hate to be rude, but may I steal Lady Whittig away from you? I have longed to speak to her about her next event for the Sisters of the Heart Society. Perhaps I could beg the next dance, my lady?”
    He met her gaze evenly, and she saw his order in his eyes. Don’t refuse . She was about to follow that order when she caught sight of her own black gown and remembered her reasons for wearing it. A woman in mourning did not dance.
    She sucked in a breath. “I have no intentions on dancing this evening, Mr. Lucas,” she said, ignoring the soft sounds of surprise made by the women in her party. “But I would be more than happy to discuss the details of our next Society event with you on the terrace if that would please you.”
    His eyes narrowed before he gave a curt nod. “Yes, of course.” Offering her his arm, he said, “Perhaps your friends will be more amenable to dancing later.”
    With their enthusiastic murmurs ringing in her ears, Ana took Lucas’s arm and allowed him to lead her past the dance floor to the terrace doorways in the distance. But as soon as they were out of sight and earshot of her renewed friends, his grip on her arm tightened and his steps filled with purpose and emotion.
    “You needn’t manhandle me,” she said as she tried to pull herself free of his grip.
    “Not a word,” he ground out as he maneuvered them onto the wide terrace and away from the others outside. “Not yet.”
    “When then, Mr. Tyler?” she snapped, yanking her arm free when he brought her to a stop in a shadowy corner at the end of the terrace.
    His eyes narrowed and a dangerous gleam lit up in them. “Now. Now you will explain yourself.”
     
    Lucas folded his arms as he waited for Ana’s answer. Instead of doing as she’d been told, she gave him a withering glare and stomped over to the terrace railing to look down over the gardens below. Her hand snaked up and she began to rub her arm…right on the spot where he’d touched her.
    He tilted his head. His grip hadn’t been tight enough to hurt her, so the reason for her to touch herself there intrigued him.
    “Well?” he asked, trying to bring his focus back to matters at hand.
    She spun on him, eyes