A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,2

meeting?”

“A representative of A. Golden.” Owen frowned as if disappointed Thomas hadn’t remembered.

“Oh, yes. Our shining star.” Thomas dearly hoped the author had written another book. Focusing on publishing it would be easier than sifting through the manuscripts for a similar gem.

Bing set the stack on the floor, straightening it to make certain it didn’t tip over, before clearing his throat. “I’d be happy to read a few of these and offer my opinion.”

“Perhaps at a later time.” While Thomas had appreciated the young man’s enthusiasm when he’d hired him, now that eagerness grated on his nerves. He wasn’t ready to trust anyone else to read through the possibilities in the submitted manuscripts when he still wasn’t certain what he was looking for.

Thomas had dealt with several pieces of correspondence when he heard voices outside his office.

Bing opened the door, the confusion on his face alarming. “There’s someone to see you, sir.”

“The eleven o’clock appointment?”

The man didn’t answer but instead stepped back.

To Thomas’s utter shock, Miss Annabelle Gold entered his office only to stop short. As always, the face he knew so well caused all his thoughts to drop away in an instant.

Sunlight streamed in from the single window, lighting her thick dark hair and casting a golden shade to her brown eyes. Her cream-colored gown had touches of pink and the satin chip bonnet she wore was tied beneath her ear at a jaunty angle with a brightly striped satin ribbon. The rose shawl draped over her shoulders made her alabaster skin glow.

The sight of her never failed to catch his notice, whether he saw her across a ballroom or a garden. Was it the curious intelligence in her expression or the gentle bow of her lips that stirred him? The taste of that sweet mouth was something he had yet to forget. Nor was he certain he wanted to.

“You?” The single word she uttered was both accusation and question rolled into one.

For once, they were of the same opinion.

~*~

Annabelle Gold stared in dismay at the man seated behind the desk. Thomas Raybourne was not the person she’d been expecting to meet. In fact, he was the last person she wanted to be in this office.

He stood and gave his customary careless grin as he bowed. “Good day, Miss Gold.”

“Mr. Raybourne.” She dropped a quick curtsy, anxious to be done with the formality. “Why are you here?”

One dark brow rose above green eyes the color of deep forest pools flecked with gold. She knew the exact shade as she’d spent too much time studying him, usually from afar, with the exception of one memorable encounter which had been extremely up close and personal.

His handsome face stole into her dreams on occasion, often wearing the same cocky grin he wore now. Curse those dimples he flashed so easily. The sight of them weakened her knees each time he used them.

Thomas Raybourne was a well-liked rogue that sensible young ladies admired from a safe distance but avoided at close range. As a third son with limited prospects and less ambition, no purpose would be served setting one’s cap for him, despite his compelling appearance and charming demeanor.

Annabelle found her physical reaction to the man disturbing. Those long lashes, eyebrows that tilted upward at the inside edge above his straight nose, and a way of looking at her with an intensity that suggested he could see into her soul, sending awareness fluttering deep within her.

Her response to him disconcerted her. In an attempt to uncover the reason for it, she’d convinced him to kiss her nearly three months ago on a darkened terrace during a ball. The spark of attraction she’d felt had ignited into a burning flame when their lips touched. The memory of it sent warmth to unmentionable areas of her body even now. She had yet to understand it, much to her frustration.

There was nothing Annabelle disliked more than situations she didn’t understand.

Heat flushed her cheeks as she stared at him.

“I might ask you the same.” His eyes narrowed as if he were determined to uncover her secrets, which only increased her nerves. “Do you have something you wish to have published?” The teasing lilt in his voice didn’t encourage an honest answer.

“I—” How could she possibly reveal the truth to him? “That is to say...”

At her family’s insistence, their solicitor had represented her last work with Artemis Press, so she’d never had to venture to the office. Her writing career as author A. Golden was a closely guarded