Magnate by Joanna Shupe Page A

how?”
    â€œGotham Telegraph.”
    His eyes widened. “The rumored sale to Astor. Impressive. No one saw that coming.”
    â€œI know. I was in the right place to overhear a relevant piece of information.”
    â€œIs that so?”
    â€œYes. Sometimes women share innocent things from their home life that can be used to gauge a company’s stock value.”
    He studied her, stared with such fierce concentration, that she nearly squirmed. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Just as she was about to ask, he said quietly, “You are entirely unexpected, Elizabeth.”
    From his flat tone and serious expression, she couldn’t comprehend his meaning. “Is that good or bad?”
    â€œI haven’t decided yet.”
    The moment stretched, their gazes locked, and her breath came faster, the air suddenly in short supply. Their faces were so close she could see every one of the dark lashes framing his eyes, the hint of whiskers along his jaw. She sensed a strange tension emanating from him, a barely leashed energy that filled the room.
    A waiter returned, this time with the first course, and she reached for her champagne, downing it. Oysters again, she noted in an effort to focus on something other than the inscrutable man next to her. The plates were arranged, and Emmett murmured something to the waiter, who promised to return momentarily.
    The next few moments were dedicated to the food. Lizzie enjoyed the oysters and tried not to dwell on Emmett’s nearness, or the way their arms nearly brushed with each movement. More champagne should help , she thought and reached for her flute.
    â€œHave you considered where you will set up an office?” he asked.
    Surprised, she put down her glass. She hadn’t yet contemplated the practicalities, like an office or hiring a staff. Winning the bet had consumed her thoughts. No doubt her brother had space to spare in the Northeast Railroad offices, but she couldn’t fathom having Will a few feet away each day. He would interfere, try to take over.
    â€œNo, I haven’t. Silly, I suppose, but I’ve been so focused on the wager. I’ll need to lease an office near the exchange.”
    â€œI have plenty of available space in my new building on Beaver Street.”
    â€œOh, I don’t know—”
    â€œI insist. At least until you start to turn a profit and can afford to lease a space on your own. The building is completely outfitted with all the latest conveniences.”
    The waiter appeared, placed a crystal glass of clear liquid near Emmett’s right hand, and departed. Lizzie watched as Emmett took a long sip.
    â€œIs that water?” She nodded toward his glass.
    The side of his mouth kicked up. “No, it’s gin.”
    â€œMay I taste it?”
    â€œHave you ever had gin? I’m betting they don’t serve it at any of your fancy parties.”
    â€œPerhaps that’s why fancy parties are so ridiculously boring.” She held out her hand. “Please, Emmett. I had the impression we were celebrating.”
    She stared him down, even when he frowned fiercely. For some strange reason, she wanted to know more about him, to learn as much about Emmett Cavanaugh as she could.
    â€œAnd we are. Here.” He placed his glass in her hand. “By all means, see how the common folk drink.”
    The crystal cool in her palm, Lizzie lifted the spirits to her mouth. The smell was strong and flowery. Potent. She put her lips on the rim. There was something thrilling about putting her mouth where his had just been, and the sleepy, intense way he stared at her intimated he might be thinking the same.
    Emboldened, she took a healthy sip and swallowed. The cold liquid burned down her throat, a river of fire scorching everything in its path to her stomach, robbing her of the ability to breathe.
    A large hand thumped her back, and the glass disappeared from her grip. “Breathe,