His Scandalous Mistress: The Master's Mistress / Count Toussaint's Pregnant Mistress / Castellano's Mistress of Revenge

‘That wouldn’t have been difficult,’ she said pointedly.

‘Elizabeth, if you’re trying to kill my appetite again you’re going about it in exactly the right way,’ he warned.

But Elizabeth was too exhausted to be deliberately provocative, after hours of checking and double-checking both the books that had been on the floor and then those still on the shelves.

She was so tired that she hadn’t even bothered to change before joining Rogan for dinner.

Although even in her tired and therefore vulnerable state, she was very aware that Rogan had once again changed for dinner. The long length of his dark hair was brushed back and resting silkily on his shoulders, and tailored black trousers and a black silk shirt once again made him appear like those dark predators in the books she read…

She sighed. ‘I was only attempting to make conversation.’

‘Take my advice: attempt to make it about something else!’ His mouth was set in a grim line as he resumed eating his meal.

‘As far as I can tell, the Darwin, the Dickens and the Chaucer are all missing,’ she came back tartly.

Rogan’s gaze narrowed as he sat back in his chair to look across the table at her. ‘That’s certainly a change of subject!’

Elizabeth gave an unconcerned shrug. ‘You didn’t specify that I change it to something pleasant.’

‘No, I didn’t, did I?’ Rogan eyed her appreciatively. ‘So, you think they’re all missing?’

‘I know they are,’ she corrected firmly. ‘I’ve stacked and checked every book thrown onto the floor. Double-checked, in fact. I’ve also looked through all the books on the shelves. Again, twice. None of those books are there.’

‘You have been busy,’ Rogan murmured admiringly. ‘Why only those books, I wonder… ?’ he mused as he once again attempted to eat his meal.

Elizabeth had been wondering the same thing. Admittedly, the Darwin was probably the most valuable book in the Sullivan collection, but there had been several others in the glass bookcase that were also worth a considerable amount of money. None of those books had been missing.

‘Perhaps I was the one that stole them, after all?’ she suggested lightly.

Rogan eyed her from beneath raised brows. ‘I doubt you would have mentioned them to me at all if that was your intention. Besides, you and I both know there is no way you could ever have thrown all those other books onto the floor in an effort to cover up your crime.’

‘No,’ Elizabeth acknowledged heavily, only picking at her own food, still upset by the events of the day. ‘But surely your everyday burglar would have taken more than those three books?’

‘Is there such a thing as an “everyday burglar”?’ Rogan teased.

Her eyes flashed deeply blue. ‘You know exactly what I meant!’

Yes, unfortunately Rogan did know exactly what Elizabeth meant. Which narrowed down the identity of the burglar considerably…

He shook his head. ‘Just forget about it, Elizabeth.’

‘Forget about it?’ she echoed incredulously. ‘I’ve just spent the entire day establishing that those specific books have definitely been stolen—’

‘And I’m very grateful for your attention to detail,’ Rogan cut in harshly. ‘Now, can we just move on?’

‘Move—? Rogan—’

‘Elizabeth!’ He glowered at her darkly.

Elizabeth eyed Rogan in disbelief. ‘But—’

‘Don’t you have some more questions you would like to ask about why my mail still goes to New York but I no longer live there?’ he interrupted.

She had lots of unasked questions on that particular subject. But as a means of ending their previous conversation it was rather too obvious. ‘Not when I know they’re questions you have no intention of answering, no,’ she replied.

‘You don’t know that for sure.’ Rogan grinned across at her unapologetically. Strangely, he found these conversations with Elizabeth stimulating. He was certainly never bored by them. Or by her…

‘Okay, Rogan, let’s test that theory, shall we?’ she said. ‘If your mail goes to New York, but you don‘t live there, where do you live?’

‘Elsewhere.’

Elizabeth scowled. ‘That isn’t helpful.’

‘I know.’ He grinned unrepentantly.

‘Those men you talked to on the phone—Ace and… Grant, was it?—who are they?’

‘People who work with me, along with another man called Ricky.’

Elizabeth was holding her breath now. Rogan was still being obstructive, but even so he was answering her questions in his own guarded way. ‘As what?’

‘Associates.’

Elizabeth gave a grimace. ‘You see.’

‘I doubt you tell a man everything about yourself on a first date,’ he retorted.

She didn‘t tell a man everything about herself on a second date either—because she usually ensured there wasn’t a second date! Being here like this at Sullivan House with Rogan made it more difficult to maintain that distance.

‘If anything, having lunch together yesterday counts as more of a date than dinner this evening… ’Elizabeth frowned as she realised she had just completely contradicted her own version of their lunch together yesterday!

‘True,’ Rogan accepted. ‘But it took your mind off stolen books for a couple of minutes, didn’t it?’

Elizabeth was completely aware that Rogan was now attempting to divert her attention from where he lived and who he worked with by reverting back to the subject of the stolen books. And it wasn’t going to work. ‘Who was it you were asking Ace to make sure stayed put?’

‘You’re good, Elizabeth,’ Rogan approved huskily. ‘Very good, in fact.’ He nodded appreciatively. ‘You don’t forget much, do you?’ he explained at her questioning glance.

She shrugged. ‘I simply have a methodical mind.’

‘From teaching History, no doubt?’

‘Probably,’ she said. ‘I’ve simply never been able to cope with chaos.’

‘Like the library this morning.’

‘Like the library this morning.’ She nodded. ‘You haven’t answered my question, Rogan,’ she reminded him dryly.

‘Dogged too.’ He grimaced. ‘Have you ever watched a friend making a complete ass of themselves over someone you know is completely wrong for them?’