‘Insulting?’ His friend’s voice rose.
‘I am well able to make my own decisions about business and about women.’ Rhys spoke with heat. ‘I do not caution you against dallying with any of the several women who vie for your attention, you know.’
‘There would be no need.’ Xavier’s tone was just as angry. ‘I know how to handle women.’
‘And I do not?’ Rhys countered.
‘Come now.’ Xavier turned placating. ‘This infatuation with the masked woman is something else. You do not know who she is. Or what she wants.’
‘She wants what I want. Money,’ Rhys answered. ‘And she has given me her name. That is enough for me.’
‘Rhys—’ Xavier began.
‘Enough,’ Rhysdale broke in. ‘I need you as a friend, not a nursemaid. Do not press me further on this matter.’
Celia stepped away from the doorway as Xavier strode out of the room. Seeing her, he hesitated only briefly, long enough to look half-apologetic, half-provoked. He continued on his way down the stairs.
She knocked on the door.
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