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about Stonehaven—to avoid all this ‘my lord’-ing. My friends call me Deverel, or Dev.”

      “I would not think we have known each other long enough to count as friends.”

      “But surely rescuing you from that fellow should make you deem me a friend.”

      Julia glanced up to find him smiling down at her. It had never occurred to her that her nemesis would possess a charming manner or a smile that made her feel a trifle weak in the knees. He was dangerous in more ways than one, she realized with a start. She would have to watch out for him.

      “Still, it seems presumptuous for a woman like me to call a lord by his Christian name.”

      “Even if I give you permission? Perhaps we could exchange the favor, and I could call you Jessica.”

      “Ah, but then, I fear, you would find me bold.”

      “Some men appreciate boldness.”

      “Are you such a man?” She gave him a challenging, provocative look, feeling once again the curious elation at the freedom she was experiencing as a “shady” woman.

      “I think it would depend upon who the woman was.” The look in his eyes clearly indicated that she was one of those women whom he would appreciate.

      Again Julia felt a strange lurch in her stomach, and she quickly glanced away. Looking around the quiet street, she said, “No hackneys. I had hoped to find one.”

      “You must allow me to take you home.”

      “Oh, no,” Julia answered hastily. That would never do. He might not know that her house had been the home of the Armiger family for the past hundred and fifty years, but he would certainly know that it was not the sort of house in which a woman of her supposed type lived. “It’s not necessary.”

      “I insist.”

      Julia stopped dead still and gave him a pugnacious look. “And I refuse.”

      He stared at her for a moment, nonplussed, then laughed. “My dear Miss Nunnelly, you are one of a kind. And to think I almost did not come tonight—it is enough to give one the shivers! A hackney it shall be. But I think we will have better luck if we turn up and go over a street or two.” He steered her across the street and up a narrow side lane.

      Julia strolled along beside him, uncertain as to exactly what she should do to make things go as she wished. There was something quite unnerving about his physical presence—the nearness of his body and its latent strength, the warmth and firmness of his fingers upon her arm—yet at the same time it was exciting. She supposed it was the excitement of the game: pitting her wits against his, the lure of winning, the fear of exposure. Whatever it was, she had been unprepared for the exhilaration she felt.

      Stonehaven’s steps slowed as they neared the next, busier street, and Julia glanced up at him questioningly. He came to a halt, turning to face her. His hands went to her waist and pulled her closer. Julia’s breath caught in her throat; suddenly her heart was thundering. Reflexively, she brought her hands up to his chest as though to hold him off, but there was no strength in her hands. She could feel the heat of his body even through his clothes, the steady thrum of his heart.

      “I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said in a low voice.

      She wanted to return a quip, but the words stuck in her throat. His face loomed closer, filling her vision. Then his lips were on hers, hot and soft, pressing against her, opening her mouth. Julia stiffened in surprise as his tongue swept inside her mouth. None of her suitors’ kisses had prepared her for anything like this. Fire sizzled along her nerves and slammed into her abdomen. Her muscles suddenly turned to wax. His arms went around her tightly, pulling her into him. His body was amazingly hard against her own softness, all bone and sinew, and the difference was thrilling. His mouth possessed her, taking ownership; his hand cupped her bottom and pressed her into him. She could feel him throbbing against her and the insistent pressure of his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her buttocks.

      Julia’s whole body trembled under the storm of sensation, and all she could do was curl her fingers into his lapels and hold on for dear life. He made a sound of male satisfaction deep in his throat as he felt the heat surge through her body.

      Finally he lifted his head and looked down at her, his dark eyes glittering fiercely. “Jessica…”

      Desire slammed through Stonehaven like a fist at the sight of her face, soft and glowing. She had the dazed look of a woman who had just discovered passion, and though his mind knew that it must be artifice, for she was obviously a woman accustomed to men, his body responded to the lure. She was, indeed, incredibly beautiful, and he had wanted her from the moment he saw her, but now the need to have her was fierce, undeniable. He would not be at ease again, he knew, until this bewitching creature was in his bed, turning into fire beneath his hands and mouth.

      Julia saw the heavy passion in his face, the sudden, unmistakable determination to have her. It was what she had wanted to arouse in him, but the reality of it sent a thrill of unease through her. For the first time doubt assailed her: What if she could not control this situation? What if she could not leash and use the need that raged in him?

      The sudden trepidation was enough to cut through the fog that had seemed to possess her mind. She stepped back abruptly, one hand going to her stomach as if to still the tumult inside her.

      “No.” He reached for her, but she quickly moved another step, and he stopped. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”

      “I cannot.” She glanced wildly up the street and saw, like a gift of fate, a hackney rolling slowly along the cross street. She lifted her hand and waved, calling out.

      The driver on his high perch peered down the street toward them and obligingly stopped. Julia started toward it, but Stonehaven laid a hand on her arm, stopping her.

      “No, do not go yet.”

      “I must.”

      “Let us just walk a little longer.”

      She arched her brows. “I know where your ‘walking’ leads, my lord.”

      “Is that so bad a thing?” he countered softly. “You did not seem to think so a moment ago.”

      “I am not a prize so easily won,” she responded. “I fear you will find me cheap.”

      “Never.”

      She shook her head and started to pull away. His fingers tightened.

      “At least give me your address, so that I may—”

      “I cannot.”

      “Why? Have you a husband at home?” Anger roughened his voice.

      “No. Please, just let it be.”

      “But how will I find you? When will I see you again?”

      She looked up at him. His face was hard and fierce, as if the hunger in him had peeled back the layer of easy charm and exposed the powerful reality beneath. His words were not so much a question as a demand.

      Julia willed a saucy smile onto her face. She felt as if she were baiting a bear. “I am quite partial to gaming, as you know.”

      Then she tugged away and, lifting her skirts to her ankles, ran toward the waiting carriage.

       3

      “Weren’t you scared?” Phoebe asked, leaning forward to peer into Julia’s face as they walked. They were taking their usual morning constitutional through Hyde Park, and Julia had given her sister-in-law a carefully expurgated account of what had happened the night before when she met Lord Stonehaven. “I can’t imagine talking to him. Was he purely evil?”

      “Well, no,” Julia admitted. “He was rather charming, actually. It makes sense, of course, when you think about

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