"Mercy!" he mocked. "Careful, now, Arabella. Or are you trying to reform

me?"

"I don't know," she said earnestly. "Perhaps I am."

He leaned close. An unholy light glimmered in his eyes. He gave her a slow, simmering appraisal.

"I might be persuaded, you know."

His tone was low. Lazily seductive. Arabella's stomach knotted. She couldn't take her eyes from his. A breeze ruffled his dark hair. His handsomeness struck her in a way that had never happened before - she, who had thought herself immune to it! Her gaze traced over the perfect contours of his features, the slightly aquiline nose, the way his lower lip was fuller than the upper, his jaw dark with his beard.

He was so close their shoulders brushed. What was it about this man that made her heart race? That made forbidden longings spill through every part of her, despite everything she knew of him. Despite knowing what he was, all the rakish things he'd done.

"Justin," she blurted, "you've been with many women, haven't you?"

She'd startled him, she realized. He gave her a long, slow look. "Where the devil did that come from?"

Her tongue came out to moisten her lips. "The night of the masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens, I overheard some women talking about you. One said you were a lover of-" oh, surely her entire body was on fire, "of superb finesse."

For the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat, he stared directly into her eyes. She had the unsettling sensation he was wondering if he'd heard her correctly. Indeed, Arabella could scarcely believe her daring. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was a wild, wanton streak in her.

"I see," he said after a moment. "And are you wondering if it's true?"

"Well*if you're so wicked and depraved and immoral, then why do women want you?" It all came out in a rush, and then she couldn't seem to stop. "I've seen them, you know. Their lips say one thing, but when they look at you, why, it's almost as if they wish to be debauched."

It was all Justin could do not to burst into laughter. The very idea that prim, proper Arabella dared to broach such a subject was mind-boggling. When he'd followed her here, never in his life did he imagine the turn of their conversation.

Nor was she finished, it seemed.

"Have you done licentious things?" she queried tentatively.

"And if I said yes?"

"Then I would ask if*if licentious things*are pleasurable."

He raised a rakish brow. "Why are you asking me this? Last night you claimed you were not flirting with me."

"And I'm not. I'm simply*" She floundered.

"Curious?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "And I know of no one else to ask."

"Thank you," he said dryly. "That was flattering."

Slender brows drew together over her brows. "Aren't you going to answer?"

"I am not." He got to his feet and extended a hand.

She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Why not?"

She stood with her back against the trunk of the tree they'd been sitting under. Very deliberately,

Justin placed first one hand, then the other, on the rough bark beside her.

Her gaze slid from one arm to the other, then jerked back to his eyes. He knew the exact moment she realized she was trapped.

He adopted his most roguish tone. "My dear Arabella," he said softly, "I am alone

with a beautiful woman. There is no one here to see. You want to talk about licentious things, while I

would rather do licentious things." As he spoke, he leaned in even farther.She nearly jumped out of her skin. She wasted no time ducking under his arm. He turned as she grabbedup her shoes and stockings, holding them to her breast like a shield. Her expression, a mixture ofuncertainty and righteous indignation, nearly set him off.

He raised his brows. "What! Did you think I was going to kiss you?"

She sniffed. "As if I would let you!" Yet despite her bravado, she scuttled to the other side of the tree and began to tug on her shoes and stockings.

"Are you properly shocked?" he said mildly.

"Hardly," she snorted.

He smiled. "Rest a.s.sured, Arabella, whatever licentious activities I may have engaged in, it was

not with innocent young maidens." He glanced toward the house. "We should be getting

back. It's almost teatime."

Arabella took the arm he offered, her bonnet dangling from her fingertips. They began to amble toward the house. "For a man of such vast experience," she remarked, "you are remarkably close-mouthed. I thought men had a decided proclivity to boast about such things."

He a.s.sisted her over an exposed tree root. "Mostly to other men. Not to -"

"Yes, I know." She rolled her eyes. "Innocent young maidens. But I'm not

young, you know. I'm nearly one-and-twenty. So perhaps you should rest a.s.sured that Iwouldn't be shocked at anything you decided to tell me."He laughed softly. "Trust me, Arabella. Your tender ears would be singed. The smoke would be spied all the way to London."

"I was always a precocious child." She had no trouble keeping up with his long-legged stride. Suddenly she pointed. "Oh, look! What is that?"

Justin followed the direction of her finger. "It's the gazebo."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "May we stop?" She didn't wait for an

answer, but picked up her skirts and began running toward the small white structure on the hilltop.

Justin quickened his pace. "Oh, but this is lovely!" she sang out. Slanting him a smile, she leaned forward to sniff the dainty pink roses that climbed the twin columns of the entrance. "I do so adore roses."

Justin stopped at the bottom of the stairs. No, he thought raggedly, she was the one who was lovely. He found her disregard for convention quite enchanting. The strings of her bonnet still trailed from her fingertips. Exertion or perhaps the sun had tinted her cheeks the fairest rose. He had to wrench his gaze from lips that were practically begging to be kissed. G.o.d, but what was behind this cursed attraction to her? She was all wrong for him. Yet being with her this afternoon*Christ, it felt so right*

She turned to him. From where she stood on the first step, they were eye-to-eye. "Now," she said briskly, "where were we? Oh, you were about to tell me all your secrets."

"Are we trading secrets, then?"

"Indeed, you are the keeper of all my secrets," she grumbled. "Or the ones that matter anyway."

He chuckled. "That grates, doesn't it?"

Her lips pursed. "Yes," she muttered. "I think it's only fair that I should have just one of yours."

"A secret of the licentious nature, eh?"

"Well, yes*it makes sense, doesn't it? Licentious. Lascivious. Libertine. What do all those things have in common?"

"Me, I suppose."

Her eyes crinkled. "Very clever," she praised. Smiling brightly, antic.i.p.ating victory, she stationed herself on the top step, where she gazed down at him. Oh, he was so smug and superior! Just once she longed to have the upper hand, so to speak.

It proved a victory short-lived. He quirked a brow. "I know what you're doing, Arabella, and it won't work." Setting his hands firmly on her waist, he swung her from her perch above him.

"Cad," she charged.

"Vixen," he shot back. "But I will admit, you win points for being persistent. However, I am compelled to inform you, no matter how hard you try, I won't tell you what you wish to know."

"Why not? I suppose it is a matter of principle now."

"Principle be d.a.m.ned. I've no intention of sinking even lower in your eyes, so my lips are sealed. Besides which, I begin to wonder if perhaps you are so insistent because it is indeed a trifle more than a matter of curiosity."

She frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

Justin began to walk on. "Simply this." He cast a sidelong glance at her. "Are you even aware how the act of procreation is done?"

"Of course I am. My mother told me, as well as my Aunt Grace. And -" She stopped short.

Justin placed his hands on his hips. Her expression was decidedly guilty. "And?" he coaxed.

She was blushing fiercely. "The night before my cousin Harriet married, I heard Aunt Grace telling her what to*" She ran the tip of her tongue around her lips. "What to antic.i.p.ate in the marriage bed."

Justin dissolved into laughter. "I should have known! You were spying behind closed doors again!"

Arabella scowled. "I wasn't spying."

He only laughed the harder. "The devil you say!"

"Forgive me for interrupting your amus.e.m.e.nt, sir." She gestured grandly to the path before them, where the night's rain had collected in a wide pool.

"What?"

"There is a puddle before us," she pointed out.

He smiled. "So there is," he agreed.

Her gaze ripened to a glare. "A gentleman, on seeing that it is too wide for me to traverse on my own, and seeing that he is wearing boots and I have but thin slippers, would offer to carry me across."

"My dear, you have called me many things, but never a gentleman." His smile widened. "However, since you insist*"

Bending low, he pitched her over his shoulder and strode through the puddle. She was still sputtering as he set her on her feet on the other side.

Her chin climbed high. "And now I see why," she informed him icily. "You, sir, are no gentleman, nor will you ever be."

Justin threw back his head and laughed as she stalked away. Now, this, he thought, was the Arabella he knew*

Twelve.

Tea was just being served when they arrived. Arabella chatted with Georgiana and Julianna for a time, then moved to sit with her aunt and uncle. Finally, she wandered off a short distance away from the others. A pair of chaise lounges beckoned beneath the shade of a tree, and it was there she directed her steps. Uncle Joseph had been discussing his prized hunting retriever with Sebastian, and Aunt Grace was busy flitting from guest to guest.

All the while, there wasn't a single moment she wasn't aware of Justin - where he was, who he was with, everything about him.