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“Are you?”
She adjusted herself, her arms falling from around her knees as she tucked them beneath her in a cross-legged position. The soft lawn of her shift gathered in her lap, the lace edges tracing along the enticing curves of her thighs. Her hair, lit gold in the firelight, thankfully hid most of her upper body from view. Valentine sucked in a breath as a clear gaze met his, not an ounce of guile or guilt in it, only an astute fortitude that made him take notice. In truth, that sharp stare was more of an aphrodisiac than her state of undress, but what came next was a blast of cold water to the face.
“I doubt my brother would look any more favorably onyourcurrent flavor of pie, Your Grace.” Her eyes glittered like shards of ice. “In fact, one single bite just might lead you down a rather disagreeable path that you seemed so eager to escape the first time.”
Valentine almost laughed aloud at her sheer cheek. The ballocks on her! A slip of a girl was going toe-to-toe with him, throwing the fact that they had coupled back in his face along with the threat of wedlock. He had no illusions that she would divulge all to her brother, if push came to shove and that was really her game, and then he would be forced to do right by her. “Which path is that?”
“I think you already know, one heralded by wedding bells.”
“If I recall, my lady, you consented quite enthusiastically to the act.”
A dark flush crested her cheekbones but she nodded. “I did. That doesn’t change the fact that should the Duke of Ashvale learn that you joined giblets with his younger, unmarried sister, even with her consent in a public wood, we would both be expected to do what society demands of us.”
Valentine drew in a clipped breath at the unrefined slang falling from such aristocratic lips.
“Which neither of us wants,” she added.
“That mouth of yours,” he murmured.
That puckish pout quirked upward. “I rather thought you enjoyed this mouth of mine, Your Grace. At least, itfeltlike it.”
Goddamn his fool self, nowhewas blushing like a schoolgirl, if the heat filling his face was any signal. Heat was tormenting other parts of him as well. Thank God his propped knee blocked most of his distended crotch from her view. The thin underclothes would hide nothing, and the last thing he wanted was to upend a necessary conversation with more lust. He was already in enough of a bind as it was, especially if she decided to make good on her threat. Sealing his fate with another round of mind-numbing, gratifying sex was certain stupidity. His gaze flicked to her lips, the barest flick of her glistening tongue making a low growl climb up his chest at the memory of her soft, wet mouth on him.
“Where did you learn to do such a thing?” he rasped out and nearly kicked himself. Some focus.
“A library.”
“Does dear Lady Borne know of your wicked preference of reading material?”
Her brows lifted. “There are many things my mother does not know about me, Your Grace. I gather she would be shocked, if she suspected.” Face unreadable, she peered at him. “So are we in agreement? A trade for a trade?”
“Very well,” he agreed. “Why have you come here? Are you really visiting a sick relative?”
“No, but I am here to help a friend who might be in trouble.”
“That’s vague and tells me nothing,” he said.
The imp grinned. “Ask better questions next time. You know for a supposedly unrivaled big, bad secret operative, you’re rather easy to sidestep. Were you any good at your job at all?”
“I am not a spy.” Valentine set his jaw. “And I’m very good at my job.”
Two could play at this game. Her blush heightened when his stare canvassed her body in a leisurely, heated sweep. The pulse at the base of her throat visible through the parted curtain of hair fluttered to life, though to her credit, she didn’t drop her stare.
“My turn. Were you following me?” she asked.
“I’ve already answered your allotted question, imp.”
“I didn’t ask you a…” She pressed her lips together, recalling her mistake about asking whether he was good at his job. Something like vexation flickered in her eyes. If he had to hazard a guess, she was worried about the slip. “That was devious.”
“How do you know the Kestrel?”
She thought on that for a moment and then shook her head. “I don’t. I’m tired and we should probably get some rest, if we can.”
Valentine had an inkling she could be a vise when she wanted. Instead of pressing the matter, he nodded and rose. His coat was already dry enough. He spread it out and placed it on the ground near the fire that was already burning down faster than he’d hoped. “Lie on this.”
She stood up in a graceful movement, the shifting of her silky hair affording him a tempting glimpse of the curve of one breast. Hell, she was lovely. Situating herself on his coat, she propped herself up to her side on one elbow and gazed up at him. “Where will you sleep?”
In reply, he sat down next to her, his back to hers. “Right here. We need to keep warm when the fire goes out. I’ll keep it going for as long as I can, but body heat is better than no heat.”
