Lynd was a score of years older and average in height, features, and build. Jasper looked to the earl and found the man staring at his niece with confusion. “I fail to see what bearing my face has on my investigative skills.”

“In addition-” her voice grew stronger as she warmed to the topic of his faults, “-it would be impossible to disguise the air about you which distinguishes you.”

“Pray tell me what that is.” He was beginning to find it difficult to hide his growing enjoyment of the conversation.

“You are a predator, Mr. Bond. You have the appearance of one, and you carry yourself like one. To be blunt, you are clearly capable of being a dangerous man.”

“I see.” Fascination deepened into captivation. Perhaps she wasn’t so innocent, after all. He spent obscene amounts of coin on his attire, deliberately crafting an appearance so polished very few saw past it to the rough edges underneath.

“I doubt you would be effective at your profession if you were not possessed of both predatory and dangerous qualities,” she qualified in a conciliatory tone.

“And many others,” he offered.

Miss Martin nodded. “Yes, I suspect the trade requires you to be well versed in a multitude of skills.”

“It certainly helps.”

“However, your masculine beauty negates all of that.”

Jasper was ready to move forward. “Would you get to the point, Miss Martin? What-exactly-did you intend to hire me to accomplish?”

“Quite a bit, actually. Protection, investigation, and…to act as my suitor.”

“I beg your pardon?” Bond’s voice rumbled through the air between them.

Eliza was flustered and out of sorts, and her state was entirely his fault. She had not anticipated that he would be so persistent or so curious. And she had certainly not expected a man of his appearance. Not only was he the handsomest man she had ever seen, but he was dressed in garments fit for a peer and he carried his large frame with a sleek, preda-ceous grace.