She stood and came around the desk toward him. “Have I upset you?”
Why didn’t the shirt have an opening? As a last resort, he held the clothing in front of him, a shield from her enormous, all-seeing eyes. “Not at all, but I do not make a practice of having clandestine meetings with my partners’ sisters, half-nude.”
She considered the words before tilting her head to one side, and saying, “Well, you were asleep, so you really couldn’t have prevented it.”
“Somehow, I doubt that Bourne would see it that way.”
“At least give me an audience. I came all the way here.”
Cross knew he should refuse. Knew, with the keen sense of a lifelong gambler, that he should not continue this game. That it was unwinnable. But there was something about this young woman that made it impossible to stop himself. “Well, since you came all the way here . . . how may I be of service, Lady Philippa?”
She took a deep breath. Released it. “I require ruination. And I hear you are an expert in the subject.�