LITMIR.BIZ

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      Straightening, he held out his hand. “Your hairpin, I believe.”

      This time it was fear that made her heart leap and her blood run cold. Damn. How could she have been so careless?

      Frozen in place, she frantically searched her mind as he smoothly crossed the room.

      “I…it must have fallen out while I was admiring the view,” she managed to croak, her throat dry as she met his brooding gaze.

      “No doubt.”

      Praying her hand did not tremble, she reached to pluck the diamond hairpin from his outstretched palm.

      “Thank you.”

      “Did you enjoy it?”

      She jumped at the abrupt question. “What?”

      “The view. Did you enjoy it?”

      “Yes, I…very much.” Oh lord, she had to get away from that all too knowing gaze. She felt as if he could see into her very soul. “Goodbye, your Grace.”

      With that unnerving swiftness he had grasped her hand, lifting it to his lips to caress her knuckles with a slow, intimate kiss.

      “À bientôt, my angel.”

      LEANING AGAINST THE DOORJAM, Stefan listened to the swish of muslin as Miss Karkoff rushed down the hallway. Just for a moment, he allowed himself to savor the lingering scent of jasmine and the memory of her warm flesh beneath his lips.

      Christ. He had never been so aware of a woman. The delicate line of her profile. The lush curve of her mouth. The gentle mounds of her breasts that begged for a man’s touch.

      His body didn’t give a damn why she was in Surrey. Only how swiftly he could get her into his bed.

      Thrusting aside the dangerous thoughts, Stefan waited for the inevitable arrival of his butler. Goodson had not been pleased by Stefan’s invitation to allow Miss Karkoff to make use of the library. The servant had devoted his life to ensuring that Stefan was protected from even the least disruption.

      While he appreciated Goodson’s dedication, Stefan intended to ensure the poor servant put aside his protective nature. At least until he discovered what the blazes Miss Karkoff was plotting.

      When Stefan had casually suggested to Miss Karkoff that she visit his library, it had been with a vague hope of earning her gratitude, and perhaps luring her into revealing some hint of her true purpose in Surrey. He had not truly expected her to accept the offer. Not if she were here to sway Edmond into some foolish scheme for the Emperor.

      Now he had to wonder if he was mistaken.

      Oh, he was still suspicious of the beautiful woman. She was hiding something. He was as certain of that as he was certain that she had been searching his desk before he had so unexpectedly returned home.

      But what?

      He was brooding on the puzzle when the thin, silver-haired butler silently slid down the hall to stand before him.

      “Ah, Goodson.”

      The servant offered a bow. “Your Grace?”

      “When did Miss Karkoff arrive?”

      A sour expression settled on the dignified face. “Precisely at a quarter past one.”

      Stefan gave a slow nod. He had arrived back at the house at exactly two o’clock.

      “So, she was here some time before I returned.”

      “You did say that you had invited her to make use of the library. I hope I did not do wrong to allow her to stay?”

      “Not at all.” Stefan absently toyed with the gold signet ring that every Duke of Huntley had worn since the time of Henry the Eighth. “I must say I extended the invitation in the hopes of learning more about the chit, but I did not truly expect her to make an appearance. Now I must reconsider my entire theory.”

      Goodson frowned. “I beg pardon, sir?”

      “I assumed she had come to Surrey with some ploy to lure my brother into Alexander Pavlovich’s schemes. Now I must wonder…” Stefan shook his head in aggravation. He was not accustomed to anyone being capable of playing him for a fool.

      Miss Leonida Karkoff would pay.

      And he could think of the sweetest of punishments.

      “I shall make certain she is not allowed to cross the threshold again,” Goodson swore, thankfully unaware of Stefan’s erotic thoughts.

      “No, Goodson. I wish you to make her feel a welcomed guest whenever she arrives.”

      The butler scowled. “Are you certain, your Grace?”

      “Quite certain.”

      “If you do not trust her, then surely she should not be given the opportunity to cause mischief?”

      Stefan’s lips twisted. “I have no genuine reason not to trust her, to be honest. She is most likely precisely what she seems to be. A young Russian noblewoman who is anxious to become acquainted with English society.”

      “But?”

      “But, in the event she is not, then I desire to know precisely what she is doing here. And the only means to do that is to keep a close eye upon her.”

      Goodson clicked his tongue. “So I am to allow her to freely roam about your house?”

      “Allow her to roam, but I want a close eye kept upon her,” Stefan corrected. “Just ensure she is not aware that she is being watched.”

      “As you wish.”

      The servant heaved a heavy sigh, but Stefan was confident that the efficient butler would fulfill the command with his usual efficiency.

      Of course, efficiency was not all that the delicate situation demanded.

      “Goodson.”

      “Yes, your Grace?”

      He straightened from the doorjamb, his expression one of warning.

      “Be sure that Miss Karkoff has no reason to suspect she is anything but an appreciated guest.”

      Goodson dipped his head in ready understanding. “Very well.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      LEONIDA TOSSED ASIDE PRIDE and even dignity as she scurried from Meadowland and headed back to Hillside at a pace hardly suitable for a proper lady.

      She only wished that she could return to St. Petersburg at an equally swift pace.

      What a fool she had been to come to England. It was not, after all, as if she had actually believed her mother’s blithe assurances that it would be a simple matter to slip into a duke’s grand manor house filled with a few dozen servants and waltz out with a packet of letters that had been hidden for the past twenty or thirty years. And that was before she had met the Duke of Huntley.

      Why did the man have to be so annoyingly perceptive?

      From the moment they had been introduced he had regarded her with a brooding suspicion that he barely bothered to conceal beneath his smooth charm. And after today…

      She halted just outside the gate leading to Lady Summerville’s private garden, glancing down at the diamond hairpin clutched in her hand. Well, needless to say, she had done nothing to ease his distrust of her presence in Surrey.

      And worse, that maddening fascination she felt whenever he was near refused to be squashed, no matter how desperately she warned herself that it threatened to ruin everything.

      For the moment, the Duke of Huntley stood between her and those letters she so desperately needed. She had to think of him as the enemy. Not as a gentleman

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