Someone to Watch Over Me Read Online Free Page A

cynically. “I’m hardly the kind to expire for the love of a woman, my lord.”
    He continued to watch Vivien, who had extracted a jeweled patch box from her beaded reticule. Flipping the box open, she beheld her reflection in a tiny looking glass fitted behind the lid. Carefully she touched the tip of a gloved finger to the heart-shaped patch that had been strategically glued near the corner of her delectable mouth. It was clear she only half heard the nearby gentleman who was trying earnestly to engage her in conversation. Seeming annoyed by his attentions, she gestured toward the long refreshment tables. He left at once to fetch her a plate, and she continued to study her reflection intently.
    Seeing his opportunity, Grant snatched a glass of wine from a tray carried by a passing waiter. He approached Vivien, who closed the patch box with a snap and slipped it back into her reticule.
    “Back so soon?” she asked without looking at him, her tone languid and bored.
    “Your companion should know better than to leave a beautiful woman unattended.”
    Surprise flickered in Vivien’s midnight-blueeyes. Her gaze dropped to the proferred glass in his hand. She took the artfully twisted stem of the trumpet-shaped glass and sipped delicately. “He’s not my companion.” Her voice fell on his ears like a stroke of velvet. “Thank you. I am parched.” She drank again, her gaze lifting to his. Like most successful courtesans, she had a flattering way of looking at a man as if he were the only one in the room.
    “You were staring at me earlier,” she remarked.
    “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
    “Oh, I’m accustomed to such stares,” she said.
    “I’m sure you are.”
    She smiled, revealing a flash of pearly white teeth. “We haven’t been introduced.”
    Grant smiled back at her. “Shall I go find someone to do the honors?”
    “No need.” Her soft pink mouth pressed against the rim of the wineglass. “You’re Mr. Morgan, the Bow Street Runner. That’s only a guess, but I’m sure I’m right.”
    “Why do you think so?”
    “You fit the description. Your height and your green eyes are quite distinctive.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “But there’s something else about you…a sense that you’re not quite comfortable in these surroundings. I suspect you would rather be doing anything but stand here in a stuffy room making small talk. And your cravat is too tight.”
    Grant smiled as he tugged at the white starched linen that bound his neck with an artful knot. The civilized confinement of high collars and stiff cravats was more than he could bear at times. “You’re wrong about one thing, Miss Duvall—there’s nothingI’d rather be doing than talking with you.”
    “How do you know my name, sir? Has someone told you about me? I insist on knowing what was said.”
    “I was told that you’ve broken many hearts.”
    She laughed, clearly entertained by the notion, and her blue eyes sparkled wickedly. “True. But I suspect you’ve broken your share of female hearts.”
    “It’s fairly easy to break hearts, Miss Duvall. The more interesting challenge is how to keep someone’s love, not to lose it.”
    “You speak of love too seriously,” Vivien said. “It’s only a game, after all.”
    “Is it? Tell me your rules.”
    “It’s rather like chess. I plan my strategy carefully. I sacrifice a pawn when it’s no longer useful. And I never reveal my true thoughts to my opponent.”
    “Very pragmatic.”
    “One has to be, in my position.” Her provocative smile dimmed slightly as she stared at him. “I don’t quite like your expression, Mr. Morgan.”
    Grant’s initial attraction to her had begun to fade as he reflected that any involvement with her would ultimately lead to nothing. She was manipulative, hard-edged, offering sex without real companionship. He wanted more than that, no matter how prettily packaged she was.
    Her gaze searched his impassive features, and she affected a