“There isn’t too much of that in the jungle,” she said. “I have no illusions. I don’t pretend to be the high-society type. In fact, I don’t even own a dress. But I can learn to get around here, with your help.”
Perry nodded. “I shall present you as my American cousin from some lost branch of the family. Backward missionary’s daughter deprived of the benefits of society, thrown on the mercy of a distant relative, and only now making her debut. That ought to account for a few peculiarities of behavior, don’t you think?”
“But how do you propose to get us near Caroline?” she asked. “Liam won’t let you just resume your courtship.”
“You may leave that to me.”
“I guess I’ll have to.” She squared her shoulders. “All right. Let’s do it.”
“Then it seems we are allies, Miss MacKenzie. Shall we shake to seal our partnership?”
He waited, as was proper, for her to offer her hand first. “We might as well drop the formality,” she said. “You can call me—” He would have sworn a grimace crossed her face. “Call me Rose.”
Rose, indeed. A most unlikely name—and he suspected this Rose had thorns. “My friends call me Perry,” he said.
“What next, Perry?” she asked, releasing his hand.
“I have a plan to set in motion, but I’ll be in contact shortly.” He reached into his waistcoat pocket for a card and went to the desk in search of a pen. “This is my address, should you need to reach me. Have you funds?”
“Not a dime.”
He emptied his pockets of coins and laid several on the dressing table. “This should provide for any necessities for the time being.”
She opened her mouth as if to ask for details and then thought better of it. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Always, Rose. Have no fear of that.”
He left her with a handful of reassurances and walked out the door feeling considerably better than when he’d first arrived in Liam’s company.
Who would have thought it? The trap Liam had set had turned to Perry’s advantage. An advantage Perry could not have imagined in his wildest dreams.
Liam had found himself a woman in the jungle. A woman utterly unlike Caroline. And therein lay the chance of victory.
Perry met Liam’s guard in the hallway as he paused by the elevator. A few quiet words brought a nod and sly grin from the man, who found another excuse to leave his post.
The sky was growing dark when Perry emerged onto Market Street. He swung his cane as he walked the short distance to his boardinghouse, tipping his hat to the ladies he passed.
The ladies. Rose MacKenzie might not be one of them, but she had something most of them didn’t have. Something an ordinary man might not appreciate.
As Liam did not appreciate Caroline.
Perry started up the stairs to his second-floor apartments, staring at the worn carpet runner under his feet. Strange how untroubled he felt, considering the day’s startling events. The shock of Liam’s abrupt return, followed by the guilt—an emotional weakness Perry thought had passed the Sinclairs by long ago. Guilt was a thoroughly useless burden.
But perhaps love had made him vulnerable. If so, it was the least price he would pay to save Caroline.
Friendship he had already sacrificed. Yet he recalled the good days Liam had invoked in the Palace Hotel room. Two men from vastly different backgrounds had fallen together in their search for something intangible: Liam, never satisfied with what he had, for a purpose beyond his accumulated wealth and hard-won success; Perry, aimless and jaded after too long in a business that leeched the life from anyone it touched, for some reason to live.
It had been Liam who’d made Perry feel again, rediscover the challenge in living itself. And Perry had forced Liam from his shell of isolation and hidden bitterness. They’d found common ground in jungle mud and desert sands, in ancient ruins and the thrill of discovery. Their partnership had taken them halfway around the world and back again. Danger had bound them as brothers.
Until Liam brought Perry back to San Francisco to meet his young ward. Caroline Gresham, fresh, vibrant, passionate.