The Marquess
“Michael admired the pretty pistol in Dillian’s hands. “You and Gavin are two of a kind, after all.
Personally, I have little use for weapons, but I understand their necessity.”
Michael shifted his position, removed his tall hat, and straightened his coat. An instant later Dillian discovered she held nothing but thin air.
While she gaped at the place where her pistol should be, Michael continued as if nothing unusual had occurred. “Of course, Gavin swears he has given up heroics for investments, but we both know better than that, don’t we?”
Dillian glared at him. “Speak for yourself. I have found very little heroic about his attitude.”
Michael lifted an inquiring eyebrow. “Spoken like a woman scorned. I had thought the interest more on Gavin’s side than yours. You do not seem one of those soft women who swoon about romantical fantasies.”
Dillian sat back in her seat and refused to look at him. She wanted her pistol back, but she wouldn’t let him know that, either.
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