Page 29 of Isabel and the Rogue

Captain Dawson advanced several lazy steps toward where she trembled behind Lord Westhope’s desk, his face devoid of expression. However, as he came closer, Isabel realized that anger flashed like blue fire in his eyes.

“Miss Luna, this is your one chance to tell me what you’re doing in here, or so help me, I will tell Westhope where I found you.”

8

Sirius saw her as soon as she entered the ballroom. Her gold gown was bold and vibrant, and paired with her dark skin, Isabel sparkled under the gaslights. From his place with Whitfield and several acquaintances in the corner of the ballroom, Sirius had watched her over his glass as she navigated through the crowd with Gabriela by her side, growing more and more confused that her presence had not drawn more notice. While young men fawned over her sister, Isabel had stood quietly by even as all the light in the room seemed drawn to her. Were people blind? How had they not noticed how arresting she was? Sirius could not keep the scowl from his face.

Which deepened when he noticed Isabel slip from the ballroom into a dark hall. Throwing back the rest of his brandy, Sirius had repressed a sigh. Apparently, he would need to save her from herself once again.

Finding her in Westhope’s study had not been hard, although it had taken him a frustrating moment or two to pick the lock. But the time Sirius spent seeing to such an annoying task had been worth it to surprise her as he did. Looking at Isabel now, her face pale and her dark eyes saucers, filled him with an intense amount of satisfaction.

“Well,” Sirius said, advancing another step closer to her, “what is it? Why are you here, lurking in the shadows, and not in the ballroom with the rest of the viscount’s guests?”

“I’m not lurking,” she hissed, color returning to her complexion.

“Perhaps not…but you’ve not answered my question,” Sirius said, slowly arching a brow.

Isabel dropped her gaze immediately. When his eyes landed on her hands, which she was wringing together, she abruptly ceased the motion and dropped them to hang by her sides. “I got lost.”

“No, you didn’t,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “You had to have known the retiring rooms were on the other end of the ballroom, because that is where the crowds congregated.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” she said, lifting a shoulder.

If she was aiming to be convincing, her performance left much to be desired.

“That’s a lie, Isabel. You strike me as a very observant person.”

As Sirius had expected, his accusation angered her. Her eyes narrowed into slits, and Isabel prowled around the desk and stopped in front of him, jabbing her finger into his chest. “How dare you.”

“How dare I what?” He smirked. “How dare I call you a liar, or how dare I call you one of the most observant people I know?”

Isabel growled in the back of her throat and poked him again. “You know what I mean.”

With a quick flash of movement, Sirius grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, until her chest was practically flush with his own. “Tread carefully, Isabel.”

“I didn’t give you leave to address me by my first name,” she said, glaring into his eyes.

Sirius bent down until his face hovered before her own. “I will call you by your Christian name as long as you act like a spoiled child, Isabel.”

Her mouth flattened. “Spoiled child? You’re not my father, Captain Dawson, and you have no authority over me.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” His grip on her tightened. “But I have no qualms about telling Fox of your intrusive searches.”

Rather than relenting, she grew angrier. Her jaw was granite. “Gideon is not my father, either. Ana María may have to answer to him, but I do not.”

“And what of your uncle? I’m certain Mr. Valdés would be appalled if he knew you were sneaking about the private studies of members of the peerage.”

Her lips parted as alarm flared in her eyes. In an instant, it was gone, replaced by bright flames of fury. “Why can’t you mind your own business?”

“You are my business,” he snarled down at her.

“Why would I possibly be your business?” Isabel snapped.

Sirius licked his lips to deliver an angry retort…but the words died on his tongue when he noticed that her gaze had dropped to his mouth. Desire licked up his spine, and Sirius curled his arm around her back, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her waist. His head swam…until she wrenched her surprised gaze up to meet his.

Clarity slammed into him like a locomotive. Sirius stumbled backward, dropping his arms as if she had burned him. This was Isabel Luna, not some willing widow meeting him in a dark library for an assignation. She deserved more care, more consideration, than what his body ached to give her.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius mumbled, smoothing his palms down his lapels and steadfastly avoiding her gaze. “I should not have taken such liberties with you.”