
“Donovan,” she hissed. “What the devil are you doing here?”
Dressed in a white linen shirt, dark un-buttoned frock coat, and thigh-hugging gray trousers, Pinkerton Agent Jamie Donovan moved onto the stoop and pulled the door shut behind him.
“Tsk, tsk,” he clucked as he pressed close. “Is that any way to greet a fellow detective?”
A stirring pull throbbed through her, just as it did on every other occasion she’d seen him, in spite of his dastardly deeds. Annoyed by her unwanted reaction, she stood her ground and thrust up her chin. “It is when that detective is you.”
“Pray tell, what have I done to deserve such harshness?”
As if he didn’t know. “Pittsburgh,” she retorted. “Does that ring any bells?”
“I was investigating a potential labor strike and--”
“You bribed a miner, exposed my operation, and caused my partner and me to lose a jewel thief we’d been tracking for weeks.”
“An unfortunate consequence to be sure--”
“And what about Albany?”
“Ah, the railroad incident.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Well, ye win some, ye lose some, Katie darlin’.” |