Sweet as the Devil by Susan Johnson

enough men to protect us. You take the guard currently in London.”
    Sofia suddenly came to her feet, her thoughts separate from the men’s conversation. “I have to tell Fitz and Rosalind what’s happened.” She needed counsel, a kindly voice of reason, help perhaps to escape the gathering threat.
    Ernst looked at Jamie. “Go with Miss Eastleigh.”
    “That’s not necessary. I’m perfectly safe in Groveland House at least,” Sofia peevishly retorted. But when she opened the drawing room door and walked out into the corridor, Jamie Blackwood was at her shoulder. She shot him a sullen glance. “Are you my shadow now?”
    “I’m afraid so.” He spoke with painstaking politeness.
    “Everywhere?” Furious at being snared in a trap not of her making, she was further rankled at his damnable civility.
    “I’m afraid so,” he repeated.
    “That should be interesting. You can play lady’s maid,” she flippantly added. “I’ve never had one before. I hope you’re good with buttons.”
    Jamie checked his stride, seized Sofia’s arm, and wheeled her around. “We’re going to need some ground rules.”
    “I don’t like rules.” She smiled. For the first time tonight, she was in control. She knew that covetous look in a man’s eyes.
    “Too damned bad.” His voice dropped lower. “Just for the record, if I could refuse this responsibility, I would, so don’t flatter yourself.” He knew that smug look in a woman’s eyes. “Now then, rule one: you must do as I say at all times or neither of us will survive. And two: if you even so much as consider evading my supervision, you’ll regret it.”
    “Are you quite done?” she asked with a theatrical lift of her brows.
    “Yes.” Brusque warning in the single word.
    “Excellent. Then let me apprise you of some relevant facts,” she purred, undeterred by affronted males. She’d gained unprecedented success in the art world dominated by men because of her talent, nerve, and barefaced determination. “First, I don’t take orders from anyone, so it appears we must survive willy-nilly. Second, I look forward to having you wash my back if I’m going to be under your constant supervision. And third, I don’t like men who snore.”
    Her smile was cheeky. Releasing her arm, he quickly stepped away before he yielded to temptation, hauled her close, and made it clear who was in charge.
    “That’s better,” she murmured, rubbing the marks his fingers had left on her upper arm. “I dislike being assaulted.”
    “I may retire from the service,” he muttered.
    “Really. It didn’t look as though you had any more choice than I.”
    “It’s complicated.”
    “Is he your father, too?”
    He flicked a finger toward his face. “Do I look like he’s my father?”
    “No, I’m happy to say. I’d prefer not being related to you.”
    His gaze narrowed. “Just keep your distance.”
    “I didn’t think I was allowed that option.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    “Are you afraid I’ll seduce you?”
    “No.”
    Her blue eyes widened, and a lazy smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “My, my, that sounds like a challenge. Would you care to make a wager? Two hundred says I can.”
    “I have no intention of betting with you.”
    “Coward.”
    He stiffened. “You’ve been drinking,” he curtly said. “Otherwise I’d take issue with your remark. Now, weren’t you on your way somewhere?” He disliked useless argument.
    “I’m only mildly inebriated,” she retorted, walking away. “Which under the circumstances is a blessing. Otherwise I might scream my frustration to the high heavens.” She glanced up at him as he fell into step beside her. “I expect you dislike women who scream.”
    He refused to be baited. Hopefully in the morning she’d be rational.
    “No answer?” She smiled. “Maybe I’ll scream right now.” He shot her a look of disgust. “I don’t like women who scream,” he grudgingly affirmed.
    “You’re going to be sooo much