A Business Engagement

“Hello, Sarah.”

“Please, come in.”

She stood aside to give him access to a foyer longer than the belly of a C-17 and almost as cavernous. Marble tiles, ornate wall sconces, a gilt-edged side table and a crystal bowl filled with something orange blossomy. Dev absorbed the details along with the warning in Sarah’s green eyes.

“I’ve told my grandmother that you and Gina are no more than casual acquaintances,” she confided in a low voice.

“That’s true enough.”

“Yes, well...” She drew in a breath and squared shoulders molded by gray silk. “Let’s get this over with.”

She led the way down the hall. Dev followed and decided the rear view was as great as the front. The dress hem swayed just enough to tease and tantalize. The tights clung faithfully to the curve of her calves.

He was still appreciating the view when she showed him into a high-ceilinged room furnished with a mix of antiques and a few pieces of modern technology. The floor here was parquet; the wood was beautifully inlaid, but cried for the cushioning of a soft, handwoven carpet to blunt some of its echo. Windows curtained in pale blue velvet took up most of two walls and gave what Dev guessed was one hell of a view of Central Park. Flames danced in the massive fireplace fronted in black marble that dominated a third wall.

A sofa was angled to catch the glow from the fire. Two high-backed armchairs faced the sofa across a monster coffee table inset with more marble. The woman on one of those chairs sat ramrod straight, with both palms resting on the handle of an ebony cane. Her gray hair was swept up into a curly crown and anchored by ivory combs. Lace wrapped her throat like a muffler and was anchored by a cameo brooch. Her hawk’s eyes skewered Dev as he crossed the room.

Sarah summoned a bright smile and performed the introductions. “Grandmama, this is Devon Hunter.”

“How do you do, Mr. Hunter?”

The duchess held out a veined hand. Dev suspected that courtiers had once dropped to a knee and kissed it reverently. He settled for taking it gently in his.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Gina told me she’d inherited her stunning looks from her grandmother. She obviously had that right.”

“Indeed?” Her chin lifted. Her nose angled up a few degrees. “You know Eugenia well, then?”

“She coordinated a party for me. We spoke on a number of occasions.”

“Do sit down, Mr. Hunter.” She waved him to the chair across from hers. “Sarah, dearest, please pour Mr. Hunter a drink.”

“Certainly. What would you like, Dev?”

“Whatever you and your grandmother are having is fine.”

“I’m having white wine.” Her smile tipped into one of genuine affection as she moved to a side table containing an opened bottle of wine nested in a crystal ice bucket and an array of decanters. “Grandmama, however, is ignoring her doctor’s orders and sipping an abominable brew concocted by our ancestors back in the sixteenth century.”

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