It all fell neatly into place on the night Lady Creighton’s ball for Portia took place.
Freeman escorted Folana Fournaise up the steps to the front door of the huge town house. He murmured something in her ear, then drew back after a servant answered the door, glanced at her invitation, and ushered her in.
I timed my stroll down the sidewalk so that I was before the town house just as Freeman came down the steps, causing him to bump into me.
“Sorry, mate.”
“Not at all,” I assured him as he was about to go on his way. “It was completely my fault.”
“You’re American.” He paused, looking intrigued, and I knew it wouldn’t take much for me to have him.
“I am.”
“You’re a redhead.”
“I am,” I repeated, giving him the sexiest smile in my repertoire. I’d positioned myself beneath a streetligh
