Widow - Anne Stuart [54]
“I’m a complicating kind of guy,” he said in a lazy voice.
“Well, leave her alone. Henry’s perfect for her—he’s got patience and a deep abiding love for her. He’s reliable, financially secure, and he’ll take good care of her and he won’t make demands. What do you have to offer her?”
Maguire snorted in derision. “Lady, have you got the wrong end of the stick! I’m here to do a job, nothing more. I’m not interested in your daughter.”
“Then why did you put that mark on her wrist?” Olivia said archly. “I’m only a little bit older than you are, but I’ve been around. And I don’t trust you.”
“All right, since we’re being so honest, I’ll admit it. I want to shag your daughter,” he said. Olivia didn’t even blink. “It’s a natural-enough reaction—that ice princess act is a challenge to any red-blooded male.”
“So you want her because she’s a challenge? Hardly a good reason to screw up someone’s life.”
“I’m not screwing up her life, lady. I’m not screwing her. I’m just…flirting a little. No harm in that, is there?”
“With Charlie there might be.”
“So what do you suggest I do? Sleep with you instead?”
Olivia laughed lightly. “No, darling. You’re too old for me. Unlike Charlie I like my men buff and brainless.”
“Henry’s not buff and brainless?”
Olivia shook her head. “Come meet him. I know you’ll be enchanted.”
Enchanted was far from the operative word. Olivia Thomas had just thrown him for a loop. The well-preserved dragon lady had an unexpected weakness for her daughter. Unless, of course, she was playing an even more complicated game. Maguire rose to his feet, towering over her. She had an air of fragility about her that was as deceptive as Charlie’s air of serenity. Olivia was as fragile as a bull moose. And while Charlie put on a better act, her acquaintance with serenity probably didn’t come any closer than twelve-step wall plaques.
He followed Olivia to the living room, not sure what to expect. He knew one thing, though—he wasn’t going to like seeing Charlie curled up next to her beloved Henry. For some inexplicable reason he didn’t want to see Charlie curled up next to anyone.
He needn’t have worried. They sat, side by side on the ancient, sagging sofa, so deep in whispered conversation that they didn’t even realize that Olivia and Maguire had come in.
“Tell me that’s not Henry!” Maguire muttered. “He looks like her grandfather.”
“What did you expect, Maguire?” Olivia whispered back. “She wants safety, not sex.”
At that Charlie looked up, a wary expression on her face. She saw him watching her, and defiantly she reached out and took Henry’s hand, holding it. She looked as natural as a marionette.
“Henry, dear, this is Mr. Maguire,” Olivia said smoothly, dragging him in. “He’s an insurance adjuster, assessing Pompasse’s estate. Or what’s left of it.”
Henry rose. He was a thin man, with a narrow, elegant face, thinning dark hair, a perfect suit and perfect manners. He was taller than Maguire, a fact that Maguire found irrationally annoying.
“Good to meet you, Maguire,” he said. “I hadn’t realized that Honore had sent someone out already. They told me it would be another week before they could spare someone.”
Maguire didn’t blink. “With an estate as important as Pompasse’s, they made the effort to find someone,” he said. Who the hell was Honore?
“That’s good,” Henry said absently, but his pale blue eyes looked wary. “How are things going? I’m afraid I’ve been so busy catching up with Charlie that I haven’t asked about the estate.” Charlie had also risen, standing close beside him, and he reached out and put his arm around her narrow shoulders, drawing her close. She complied, and most people wouldn’t have noticed the imperceptible stiffness in her body as she leaned against her fiancé.
“Going slowly,” Maguire said. “Certain paintings are still missing, and I’ve been unable to find Pompasse