Read Violet Fire for Free Online Page B

way.
    â€œDon’t rush away in a huff,” he murmured softly. “What’s your name?”
    She looked up, her face frozen in an expression of fury, and said, “Grace O’Rourke.” And then she began to think, frantically.
    Did he recognize her? It had been almost two years since their brief encounter and she had been wearing that concealing bonnet. Grace was trying not to panic, but who could forget a suffragette standing on a piano in the midst of a private soirée? If he recognized her, she would probably lose this job. He appeared to be an intimate in this house. Who was he? Brother? Cousin? Brother-in-Law? Oh Lord, let him be a guest—about to leave! She could not lose this job!
    â€œGrace O’Rourke,” he drawled, testing it. He appeared to like it, because he smiled a smile that made her throat tight. She started to push past, panicked. He blocked her with one strong arm, then winked at her, as if sharing some private joke.
    â€œMiss Margaret Anne, do come out,” he invited, looking Grace right in the eyes with silent laughter.
    Grace stood stiffly still.
    Margaret Anne appeared from a nearby doorway, looking belligerent and red-eyed.
    â€œI believe you’re looking for this little culprit?”
    â€œYes, thank you,” Grace replied.
    Margaret Anne glared at Grace and ran to the golden-haired stranger. “She broke my doll! She broke Lisa!”
    He lifted her up, high into the air. “Oh no! Poor Lisa! But I’ll bet Miss O’Rourke didn’t mean it, now did she?” He held her close to his face, nuzzling her affectionately. He was impossible for even a little girl to resist. “I’ll bet she feels awful about the accident; and you, princess, are going to be charitable and forgive her.”
    â€œI did not break the doll,” Grace said, trying hard to control her outrage. “She threw it on the floor herself in a fit of temper.”
    He looked closely at the child. “Margaret Anne!”
    She started to cry.
    â€œHush now, sweeting,” he crooned, rocking her. “I think maybe we had better get Lisa to a doctor, what do you say?”
    â€œShe’s broke,” the child sobbed.
    He shifted her to the crook of his arm and Grace followed them unwillingly down the hall to the nursery. He set Margaret Anne down and knelt, inspecting Lisa. “Why, it’s nothing a good doll doctor can’t fix,” he pronounced cheerfully.
    â€œReally?” Margaret Anne asked cautiously.
    â€œWould I lie?” he coaxed, dimpling.
    Grace gritted her teeth. He was turning his potent charm on a child of six! And the child, already susceptible, was softening, smiling. “I love you, Rathe,” she said, hugging him.
    He laughed, hugging her hard. “And I love you. Now, I’ll take Lisa and she’ll be fixed up in no time. But I expect you to be nicer to Miss O’Rourke in return. Ladies are always polite and well-mannered, and you, darlin’, are a lady.”
    Grace was incredulous.
    Margaret Anne frowned.
    â€œDon’t pout,” Rathe said. “It causes ugly wrinkles.”
    He tucked the doll in one arm and turned to Grace. His eyes twinkled. “You shouldn’t pout, either.”
    She realized she was clenching her fists. This man…this philistine was molding the child into a simpering Southern belle already. Grace felt ready to explode, but because she didn’t know who he was and didn’t dare jeopardize her job, she remained atypically silent.
    â€œI’m going to go tell Hannah about Lisa,” Margaret Anne shouted, and ran out.
    Grace looked after her—it was safer than looking atRathe—until she had no choice but to lift her gaze to his. His eyes were searching her from the top of her red head to the tip of her toes, moving very slowly and deliberately along the way. She felt another blush rise—her fairness caused her to blush too easily and too