While he unfurled the map across his desk, she took a deeper look at him, for he was a handsome man despite the sickly pallor, with finely molded features and deep-set eyes. But most fascinating to her was his jaw. It was strong and chiseled, the kind of jaw that spoke of strength and looked like it was accustomed to carrying the weight of responsibility. She loved the way he rubbed it as he scrutinized the map, and his gaze morphed from skeptical to curious to interested.

To her amazement, a slow smile crept across his face. A raspy, weak laugh started, but it was only a single breath, as though he didn’t have the strength to finish it off.

“I love it,” he said. He put on a pair of spectacles and leaned closer to the map. “Ha! They’ve got the cloves wrong in Malabar. They ship them dried, not green.” He leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the desk. “So you’re the tedious Miss Larkin from the Smithsonian.”

“I am Miss Larkin from the Smithsonian.” It was hard not to smile, for it was obvious he was testing her, but he had no idea who he was up against.

“And you come bearing gifts. Hoping to soften me up.”

“Is it working?”

“Not yet. I’m curious, though. My last letter to you was final, and you have zero chance of changing my mind, so why are you here?” He spoke with no sign of hostility, only genuine curiosity. It made her believe there was hope.

“You wouldn’t respect me if I gave up too easily.”

“What makes you think I respect you at all?” A challenging glint lurked in his dark eyes, and it was oddly intriguing. How could a man be so rude and yet appealing at the same time?

She rose to the test. “As a human being, I am worthy of respect by default. And as one botanist to another, I think you and I should cooperate.”

“I’m not a botanist. I’m a businessman.”

“I won’t hold it against you, Mr. Delacroix. Especially if you don’t hold my association with the Smithsonian against me.”

He took off his spectacles, then mopped his face with a handkerchief before looking at her through bloodshot eyes. “The Smithsonian has been trying for years to get their hands on my vanilla orchid, but this is the first time they’ve sent a woman to try for it. I’ve actually got it quite well guarded, and I’m protective of my plants, so I’m afraid your visit here is going to be fruitless.”

So he knew the value of what he had. “Can you tell me how you managed to keep it alive during transportation?”

“No.”

“Perhaps you could tell me how you are caring for it. As a tropical vine, Virginia must be a challenging environment for it.”

He shrugged and remained silent.