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owner’s dark eyes.
    “I am going out into Society,” she explained.
    He drew back a fraction. “Were you not out already?”
    “Reminding me of my age, are you?” she asked, but there was no heat to the tone. In fact, she smiled as he searched for some way to fix his faux pas.
    He saw her face and grinned. “You tease me.”
    “A little. I am no debutante, no. And I own my years. But I have never been out in London Society, in the company of the Upper Ten Thousand. Now that Rafe is a duke, it opens doors for me.”
    Rivers observed her closely. “And those are doors you wish to be opened?”
    He seemed so incredulous. As if she could never want or perhaps never fit into that world. Was she so obvious? Did he see through her façade and into the darkness she fought so hard to hide?
    “Of course I want those doors opened,” she snapped, more harshly than she would normally speak. Her defensiveness took her off guard and she softened her tone. “This is the best chance I have to marry well and live a respectable life.”
    “No one could say you haven’t already been living a respectable life,” he offered, turning his head to look out the window toward the passing city lights.
    She shook her head. “You do not know me, perhaps, but you know my brothers. My reputation is often linked with theirs, so there are many who would no doubt refute your claim. But right now is my chance. Rafe is celebrated as duke, and if I can manage to land a husband before they remember what we are…”
    She trailed off, but Rivers seemed to understand. He nodded slowly. “I see.”
    “At any rate, I fear Crispin will damage my chances.”
    He leaned in, and she caught a brief whiff of his scent again. Just as it had in his office an hour ago, it made her body clench desperately.
    “But that isn’t your only reason to worry,” he said.
    She met his stare, albeit briefly. “No,” she whispered. “I am terrified he’ll hurt himself. Not socially, but physically. Do you think he would?”
    Rivers drew away. “Why would you ask me?”
    “You said you were my brother’s friend and judging from your behavior tonight, I believe that.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you could have simply thrown him into the gutter when he became a difficulty,” she said with a shiver at the thought.
    Rivers shifted. “As I said, he is a good customer.”
    Annabelle looked at him when he said it. He appeared very uncomfortable when he was praised for caring for Crispin. Did he think she would take advantage of that fact? Did he believe kindness equaled weakness?
    But perhaps in his dangerous world, it did.
    She opened her mouth to say more, but Rivers spoke first. “When you snuck from the duke’s home, did anyone see you?”
    Annabelle blinked at the change of subject. “I—no, I don’t think so.”
    “A footman? A groom? The butler?” Rivers pressed.
    She hesitated, and that elicited a frown from Rivers. “Why do you look at me that way?”
    He shook his head. “I simply like to know what lion’s den I’m entering, Miss Flynn. Because if your oldest brother thinks my man, say, spirited you away to my naughty little club, I can’t imagine he will be happy to see me.”
    Annabelle folded her arms. “I’m certain Rafe went to your club many times before he married.”
    Rivers laughed, but neither confirmed nor denied her charge. Instead, he said, “What is good for the gander is very rarely allowed for the goose. And you know it. You’re too intelligent not to know.”
    “And what would you know of my intelligence?” Annabelle challenged him, though she had no idea where the impulse came from. “You who have met me all of three times now. Twice I was at a party, not exactly an intellectual high point and tonight I invaded your club demanding to rescue my brother.”
    Rivers looked her up and down, a lazy perusal that felt infinitely wicked even though he never made so much as a move to touch her. “I hear things,” he said.
    “Hear