"Maybe I don't want to wait. I'm not terribly keen on surprises, you know."

Not any longer at least. She'd had too many unhappy surprises in her life to care much for the experience these days.

He looked into her eyes and reached down to tuck her hand more snugly inside the crook of his arm. "You'll like this one."

"Will I? You'll simply have to wait and see," she said, repeating his earlier words.

Catching the reference, he laughed.

Leo slowed the curricle a short while later and made a turn onto a lane bounded by a redbrick wall with a heavy, black iron gate at the end.

The gate was open. Leo drove through and up to the front of a house made of the same red brick. The door was painted a crisp black, like the shutters that stood sentinel at each window. The grounds were tidy, cleared of leaves and ready for winter, evergreens adding a welcome hint of color.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Brightvale Manor. I acquired it in a card game a couple of years ago. It comes in handy every now and again when I'm in the mood for a bit of countryside without having to travel too far from London."

"You use it as a love nest, you mean?" she said, an unexpected edge to her voice.

He met her eyes. "No. You're the first woman I've ever brought here."

Her tension fell away and she smiled.

"Shall I show you inside?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

Leo watched Thalia as she looked around the house, pleased that she seemed to like what she saw. He'd changed very little about the manor house or its contents since he'd won it from a boastful sharp who'd thought to fleece him. But his brother Jack wasn't the only Byron who excelled at games of chance. Leo had turned the tables on Brightvale's former owner and won the crucial hand-earning himself the small estate in the process.

Although the house had been in good condition, the grounds had needed work, the tillable fields left unplanted, the gardens overgrown and the tenant houses in a sad state of disrepair.

Originally he'd thought about selling the place. With that in mind, he'd taken it upon himself to make improvements so as to increase the value. But the more he did on the estate, the more he enjoyed the process, and the sense of accomplishment he gained in watching something neglected thrive once more.

Despite his interest in the estate, he rarely stayed more than a few days at a time, leaving the house in the hands of a couple who served as caretakers. But this morning when he'd been considering locations for an outing with Thalia, he'd thought of Brightvale.

Seeing her enjoyment, he was glad now that he had.

"I have one last place to show you," he said, once she finished touring the house.

"Oh? Where is that?"

"You'll see. Or rather you will once I take off your blindfold."

Her dark brows arched. "What blindfold?"

"This one." He extracted a long rectangle of black cloth from his interior coat pocket.

She eyed it with suspicion. "Why do I need to wear that?"

"Because," he said, stepping behind her, "I want what I'm about to show you to be a surprise."

"And might I remind you again what I think about surprises?"

He chuckled. "Just play along. I promise you won't be sorry."

"Very well. If you insist."

"I do." He pressed a warm kiss against her neck, then reached up to tie the blindfold in place. "Can you see?"

"No," she complained. "It's as dark as pitch."

"Good. Take my hand."

"We're walking?"

"We are. And don't worry. I won't let you fall."

"You had better not. I just recovered from a twisted ankle. I don't relish suffering another."

"I shall take utmost care." He linked their hands together and led her slowly forward.

The temperature dropped the moment they left the house, the gra.s.s soft beneath their shoes.

"Is it much farther?" she asked after a minute.

"Not much."

Her hand flexed inside his, but she kept walking, relying on him with absolute trust.

Reaching their destination, he opened the door of a small building that Thalia still could not see and led her inside. The air grew warm again-and moist with the scent of earth and vegetation.

"What is that I smell? Flowers?" she ventured.

"Perhaps." He looped an arm around her waist, her hand still in his, and led her a bit farther into the structure. Then they stopped. "Are your eyes closed?"

"They are."

"Keep them closed. I'm going to take the blindfold off and I don't want you to see until I'm ready for you to see."

"My, you are dictatorial today. But then I suppose I already knew that about you."

"And you have a smart tongue. Eyes closed."

"Yes, oh exalted one."

He laughed and untied the blindfold. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he turned her in the exact direction he wanted. "All right. You may look."

Thalia blinked a couple of times as her eyes grew accustomed to the light. Then she gasped as everything came into focus.

Rising high around her stood the clear windows of a gla.s.shouse, the afternoon sunlight that poured inside turning the room as warm as a summer's day. Potted plants grew in a profusion around her-roses and lilies, exotic orchids and bushes replete with lemons and oranges and limes in various stages and colors of maturation.

Yet that wasn't the most astonishing thing. There was also the elegant white-linen-draped table and chairs arranged in an intimate corner. On the table's surface were two place settings of china, crystal and silverware, and on a second smaller table an array of foodstuffs, each one more delectable looking than the last.

"How in the world did you manage all this?" She breathed with amazement. "And so quickly?"

"I sent the servants ahead from London not long after I returned home. It put the kitchen in a bit of a pother for a while, but they came through with their usual remarkable aplomb."

"Clearly."

"Shall we be seated and partake of their efforts?"

Without waiting for her consent, he freed the bow on her pelisse, then reached to unfasten the b.u.t.tons. She stood quietly and let him take the cloak from her shoulders to hang on a small hook near the door. He added his own greatcoat as well, then took her hand again and a.s.sisted her into one of the chairs.

"I gave the footmen leave to wait inside the house," Leo said. "I thought I would serve you myself. That way we can be alone."

A melting warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the lovely humid heat surrounding them. She drew a deep breath of the loamy, perfumed air and let herself luxuriate in the moment. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so thoroughly pampered-or so happy.

Her brows creased at the thought.

As she knew all too well, happiness was fleeting. It wouldn't do for her to become emotionally entangled with Leo. She was already in deeper than she'd ever intended. If she wasn't careful, she could see herself falling in love with him.

She glanced down at her hands, folded in her lap, and willed her heart to slow its suddenly erratic beat.

Fall in love with Leo?

The very idea was absurdity.

And insanity.

But it wasn't going to happen. They were only having a bit of fun together. A light, frivolous interlude that would in all probability last no more than a few weeks. Hopefully they would be memorable ones.

Until then, she had a right to be happy, did she not? A right to indulge her senses in whatever ways she chose.

And she chose Leo.

She watched him as he prepared their plates. Studying his hands, she remembered the way they had moved over her body last night in the dark. How they'd touched her with pa.s.sion, tender and arousing. Sensual tingles raced over her skin, her nipples beading beneath the fabric of her gown.

He'd made her feel more pa.s.sion in those few brief hours, she realized, than she had felt in the entirety of her marriage. Was it any wonder she was here with him now? That she planned to be with him again, for as long as it suited them both?

As if aware of her scrutiny, he looked up and met her gaze. Finished serving, he set the plate before her. "I hope everything will be to your liking."

"I'm sure it shall."

But it wasn't only the food she meant.

Taking up her fork, she dug in.

Chapter 22.

"Hmm, it's so cozy here in front of the fire. A shame we have to drive back to London in the cold," Thalia said with a sigh nearly three hours later.

After their meal, which had been absolutely delicious, she and Leo had walked back to the main house, where they'd settled side by side on the drawing room sofa.

The caretaker's wife, a friendly, cheerful sort of woman, had served them hot tea and tiny sweet biscuits that Thalia had been too full to eat. If the other woman disapproved of Thalia being here alone with Leo, she didn't show it by so much as an extra eyebrow twitch, telling them to ring should they require anything further. Not that it mattered what Leo's servants thought of her, but still, it never hurt to be on good terms with staff.

All in all, it had been a wonderful day.

But it was nearly done, autumn light waning beyond the windows. Even if they left now, it would be full dark before they reached her town house.

Thalia set her teacup aside and mentally prepared herself to leave their warm little nest.

Before she could do more, Leo caught hold of her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. "Why don't we stay here?"

Her eyes went to his. "Stay? For the night, you mean?"

Leaning near, he pressed his mouth to hers for a long, slow kiss that made her toes curl inside her boots. "I'm sure a bedchamber could be prepared," he said. "And we've plenty of food left over from our earlier meal. My cook sent up nearly an entire ham, so we won't starve, even if the larder here proves to be bare. Save for the tea we were served, that is. Tasty biscuits by the by."

"You would know," she teased, resting her head back against the sofa, "since you are the one who ate them all."

"Just replenishing my strength," he said, taking her mouth for another breathless joining. "I shall need it if we hope to repeat last night."

She shivered and slid her fingers up into his hair. "Heavens. Is that even possible?" Her pulse stuttered at the very idea, flashes of their couplings racing through her mind. Her body responded, turning even warmer than it already was.

"I certainly plan to make the attempt." He ran the tip of his tongue across her lower lip, then slid it inside to explore the ultrasensitive lining of her mouth. She gasped and kissed him harder, suddenly in want of more.

"What about you?" he murmured, letting her come up for a trembling breath. "Are you ready to attempt everything again?"

"I am." She trembled.

"Good. Then we'll stay." He slid his hand over her back and waist, then lower, splaying his fingers across her bottom. He gave her rounded flesh a pleasurable squeeze as their mouths locked together for more fervid kisses.

I shouldn't stay, she thought drowsily, drawing him even closer with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

She had no luggage, no night attire or change of clothes. No brush or hairpins or slippers. Then too there would be her overnight absence from her town house.

Scandalous.

On the other hand, she was behaving scandalously now, wasn't she? Spending the night away with her new lover was something a notorious divorcee would be expected to do. It seemed almost de rigueur.