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us earlier, I’d have thought you would be glad to see the back of me.’

      ‘Uncle Henry gave you into my care and authority. Until he returns from Cornwall this is where you will remain. Besides, there is no one in London to take care of you.’ When she continued to glare at him mutinously his face hardened. ‘And, of course, you know I’ll come after you if you spirit yourself away,’ he told her, knowing she was capable of anything, even running away.

      Scrambling to her feet in a huff, Angelina was tempted to call him names that would have set his ears on fire, but, realising it would serve no purpose, she refrained from doing so. ‘Do you have contempt for women in general, or just me? Is it cruelty that makes you so obnoxious towards me, or are you naturally so?’

      ‘I don’t mean to be obnoxious and nor do I hold you in contempt,’ he countered, getting to his feet. ‘A moment ago I asked you to let me have my say. Please oblige me by doing so.’

      ‘Very well,’ she said primly.

      ‘First of all, I apologise for any offence I caused you when we first met in London. My affection and loyalty to my uncle clouded my judgement and it was wrong of me to upset you. Please forgive me,’ he said with disconcerting sincerity. ‘I was rude and boorish in my behaviour towards you and now I heartily beg your pardon.’

      Angelina was astonished. She stared into those clear eyes, searching for mockery, the veiled contempt, but found neither. ‘You were rude and insulting,’ she agreed.

      ‘I know. I also know you would not have flouted the law so blatantly had you known it is a criminal offence to go around shooting rabbits—or any other animal unlucky enough to find itself within your sights, for that matter. I should have realised you had not been told and not reacted so furiously. I do not ask you to like me, Angelina, I only beg you to grant me some of your time so that I might present my case. In so doing I am sure you will reverse your opinion of me.’

      ‘I won’t,’ she said adamantly.

      ‘Nevertheless, it would be poor spirited of you to deny me that.’

      Angelina stared at him, her eyes wide with astonishment. To be responsible for an offence, punished for it, to feel shame and bitter remorse and then be forgiven and absolved, was a succession of events beyond her experience. Rendered almost speechless by his apology and change of attitude, she welcomed it and yet she was suspicious, wondering why he was suddenly bent on charming her. She found him easier to deal with when they were engaged in open warfare than when he was being agreeable.

      ‘What are you saying?’

      Sensing that she was wavering a little and that he was close to victory, Alex pressed home his advantage. ‘Only that a truce would not go amiss between us. That is the obvious solution, don’t you think?’

      Not knowing how to react, suspecting a truce between them would be more dangerous to her than when they were enemies, she opened her mouth to object, but closed it quickly.

      ‘Come. What do you say?’ He moved closer, touched by the innocence in her large, liquid eyes. ‘Why do you hesitate? Are you afraid of what might happen if we become too close?’

      ‘Of course not,’ she replied, with a confidence she was far from feeling. ‘But a truce isn’t friendship. It’s only a halt in hostilities between enemies.’

      Alex grinned. ‘It’s a start.’

      ‘Perhaps it is, but I still don’t trust you. And nothing will happen, so don’t you dare think you can seduce me, because you’ll be wasting your time.’

      ‘Seduction is a time-honoured tradition in my family,’ he told her, moving close like a hawk threatened to challenge. ‘One that we’re good at.’ His wickedly smiling eyes captured hers and held them prisoner until she felt a warmth suffuse her cheeks.

      Angelina took a step back. Her pride was taking a battering. He was deliberately manipulating her, forcing honesty into the battles between then. Oh, why did he have to look at her like that? The flush deepened in her cheeks. ‘How many women have you said that to, Lord Montgomery?’ she asked in an attempt to sound flippant in order to hide how she really felt.

      A crooked smile accompanied his reply. ‘Several. I am no saint. I enjoy the company of beautiful women, true, but is that such a crime? I would like to enjoy your company better, Angelina. I would like you to be more amiable towards me. I find you quite challenging.’

      ‘Why? Because you want to bring me to heel, and when you have done so trample me under your foot?’

      He arched a brow, amused. ‘No, but I would like you to be less hostile towards me, less stubborn. Did anyone ever tell you that you have lovely eyes? You’ve got a lovely mouth as well.’

      She looked away, staring fixedly at a point beyond the brook. ‘Please don’t say those things. I am not interested.’

      ‘No?’ Reaching out, he placed his forefinger gently on her cheek and turned her face back to his. He arched a questioning brow.

      Angelina lifted her small chin and met his gaze unflinchingly, feeling his finger scorch her flesh. Firmly she removed it with her own. ‘No. If it is your intention to gentle me, my lord, you will have to use brute force to subdue my rebellion rather than seducing me. Those are the only tactics I know.’

      In spite of himself Alex threw back his head and exploded with laughter.

      Wounded by his reaction, Angelina marched past him, yet her anger and resentment were considerably diminished. ‘You brute. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

      ‘Every minute of it,’ he confessed, laughing, his eyes dancing with merriment.

      ‘Well, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m going back to the house.’

      Alex matched her stride as they walked back across the park. Knowing exactly what he was doing and why, he smiled inwardly, enjoying the hunt and anticipating the kill with a good deal of pleasure.

      Having no concept of his thoughts, after a moment Angelina turned and gave him a mischievous look.

      ‘Tell me, Lord Montgomery—’

      ‘Won’t you call me Alex?’

      After thinking it over for a moment, she smiled. ‘Yes, all right,’ she conceded to his immense surprise and satisfaction. ‘Alex it is, then. Tell me,’ she repeated, ‘does all this belong to you?’ Taking an energetic hop backwards better to see his face, she spread her arms wide to embrace the park and surrounding countryside.

      ‘All of it,’ he replied, utterly enchanted by her. Her dancing eyes and quick smile were sublime.

      ‘So—if you wanted, you could grant permission to anyone who asked to shoot game on your land?’

      The remnants of mirth still gleaming in his eyes, Alex shot her a warning look, seeing where her thoughts were travelling. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he growled.

      Giving him an impish grin, with a laugh as clear as the purest water, Angelina left his side and skipped on ahead, releasing all her suppressed energy. Alex watched her go, her bright blue skirts dancing about her feet as she went, allowing him a tantalising glimpse of slim calves and ankles. He felt a surge of admiration. Her purity and the sweet wild essence of her shone like a rare jewel. She was innocence and youth, gentleness and laughter, a wood nymph surrounded by nature, and without warning he felt hot desire pulsating to life within him—not unexpected and certainly not unwelcome.

      It was at dinner that same night when Angelina looked down at the succulent trout on her plate, then raised her eyes to the man sitting across from her in mock horror. ‘What!’ she exclaimed. ‘No rabbit?’

      Alex suppressed a grin. ‘No. I’ve suddenly taken an aversion to that particular animal. I’ve instructed Mrs Hall to take it off the menu. Permanently.’

      Angelina wasn’t sorry. A softness

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