A Match of Wits by Jen Turano Page B

it?”
    “None of your business.”
    “That’s an unusual first name.”
    Mr. Blackheart rose from his chair. “I think I’ll go check on the ladies.”
    “I thought they were annoying you, which was why you sought me out in the first place.”
    “ You’re annoying me, so I’ll take my chances with the ladies. I vastly prefer trying to eavesdrop on the women over this ridiculous conversation we’re having.”
    “We’re not actually having much of a conversation, since you’re being stubborn and won’t agree to go along with my idea.”
    Mr. Blackheart let out what sounded remarkably like a huff and slowly resumed his seat. “Fine, we’ll discuss this further, but know that I’m in no way interested in pursuing Miss Watson in a romantic fashion. Though I find her to be very beautiful and intelligent, which has always appealed to me, she’s much too young and . . .”
    Mr. Blackheart continued speaking, but Zayne barely heard him. For some reason, the moment the man had admitted he found Agatha beautiful, a sour taste began filling Zayne’s mouth and his stomach had taken to clenching.
    It was rather disconcerting and made absolutely no sense, because it wasn’t as if he thought of Agatha that way. He . . .
    “ . . . given that Miss Watson does seem to hold you in a slight bit of affection, you should be the one to court her.”
    Zayne’s mouth dropped open. “Me?”
    “But of course. I remember noticing the two of you back in New York before you left for California, and I always thought you made a lovely couple.”
    “We were never a couple.”
    “But you could have been, if not for Helena.”
    Zayne paused for a moment in order to formulate an adequate response. Had he spent most of his time with Agatha when he’d been in New York? Certainly, but they’d been friends—good friends, but friends.
    Had he ever considered more with her?
    “Zayne?”
    Pushing aside his troubling thoughts, Zayne lifted his head. “I’m afraid I’m not the man for Agatha either, Mr. Blackheart. I’ve sworn off women for good. After the fiasco with Helena, I think bachelorhood is the only life for me.”
    “But you do find Miss Watson beautiful, don’t you?” Mr. Blackheart asked, throwing Zayne’s own words back at him.
    “I’ve already admitted as much. A man would have to be blind not to see how beautiful she is, what with those amazing blue eyes of hers and all that unruly black hair. Not to mention her form, which is . . .” Zayne stuttered to a stop when he realized Mr. Blackheart was watching him with clear speculation in his eyes. “But, that’s neither here nor there, since I’m not in the market for a lady.”
    “You enjoy sparring with her.”
    “No, I don’t. If you haven’t noticed, Agatha and I have beenarguing almost constantly since she blew up my mine—arguing, not sparring, and I certainly don’t enjoy it.”
    “You smile when you think she’s not watching, especially after the two of you trade heated exchanges.”
    Zayne rolled his eyes. “Since you don’t seem keen to pursue her, and I know I’m not, can you think of any other gentleman who might be interested?”
    “I can’t think of any gentleman who wouldn’t be interested.”
    The sour taste returned to his mouth, causing Zayne to pick up the glass of lemonade—the only drink Agatha seemed to approve of—from the small table beside him and take a gulp. Setting the glass aside, he frowned. “I suppose I could make a list of eligible men once we get back to New York.”
    “You could indeed. But remember, Miss Watson has a mind of her own, and I doubt she’ll take kindly to us, or rather you, playing matchmaker. Besides, finding a gentleman to suit her will take time, something we don’t have, since we’re almost to the city, where I expect the threat will resume.”
    “Is there any hope that the threat to her has diminished since you’ve been gone?”
    “Probably not, given the escalating nature of