"How lovely," she murmured, stepping farther into the warm room.

"I thought you might like it."

"I do. Very much." She pulled in a deep breath then smiled. "It must be glorious in the daylight."

"Yes, but I actually prefer coming here at night. I find it very…"

"Peaceful?"

He nodded. "Yes. The perfect spot for contemplation."

There was no missing her surprise. "I wouldn't have thought you a man given to quiet reflection."

"Clearly you don't know me as well as you believe."

She gave him a searching look. "Actually, I don't believe I know you very well at all." Before he could assure her that he was delighted to tell her anything she might wish to know, she continued, "Sarah has always had great love for plants and flowers. Is your interest of a long-standing nature?"

He led her slowly down an aisle of lustrous greenery. "It was actually one of my mother's great passions. This conservatory was her favorite room in the house. It fell into disrepair after she died. When I inherited the house three years ago upon my father's death, I had it refurbished. I maintain it in her memory."

"I'm sorry for your loss," she murmured. "I cannot imagine the difficulty of losing both parents. How old were you when your mother died?"

"Eight." Determined to change the subject, he pointed to the upcoming section of flowers. "The roses," he said. He snapped off a nearby bud, removed the thorns from the stem, then held the bloom out to her. "For you."

"Thank you." She lifted the offering to her nose and inhaled, then held the flower up to examine it in a shimmering ribbon of moonlight. "It doesn't appear to be pure white," she said, slowly turning the stem between her fingers.

"It's a very pale pink, a color my groundskeeper calls 'blush.'" He reached out and stroked his fingertip over the edge of a petal. "This flower reminds me of you."

"Why is that?"

"Because it's delicate. Fragrant. And very, very lovely." He brushed the fingertip that had just touched the rose over her soft cheek. "And because you blush so beautifully."

As if on cue, color rushed into her cheeks, and he smiled. "Just like that."

His compliment clearly flustered her, and she looked down as they continued to slowly walk along the aisle. After several long seconds of silence, she remarked, "You must have left the party early."

"I had no desire to stay after you departed."

Carolyn's gaze snapped to him and her breath caught at his intense regard. He was looking at her as if she were a sweet confection and he harbored a craving for sugar. Oh… my. And it wasn't just what he said, but the way he said it, in that low, husky voice. The tension that had gripped her from the moment she found herself alone with him doubled, and her entire body seemed to burst into flame-and he hadn't even touched her. Except for that whisper of a caress against her cheek moments ago, which had left a trail of fire in its wake.

And she realized that in spite of her wish for it to be otherwise, she wanted him to touch her. Very much.

What would he do if she told him so? If she said, I want you to touch me. Kiss me.

He'd oblige you, her inner voice whispered.

Yes. And she'd once again feel all the magic she'd experienced on the two other occasions he'd touched her. Kissed her.

She gripped the rose's stem to keep from fanning her hand in front of her overheated face. Desperate for something, anything, to say that didn't include the words kiss me, she said, "Katie told me about the interesting array of pets you've saved."

"Ah, yes, they're quite a colorful group-or perhaps 'herd' is a better description."

"Saving abandoned animals… it is a surprising and unusual pursuit for an earl."

"Believe me, no one was more surprised than I. It's truly Samuel's enterprise, but when he brought home his first find, a half-starved, sickly, pure black cat missing an eye, I couldn't refuse. Blinky fully recovered and is now an honored member of the household."

She smiled at the pet's name. "I saw Blinky in the foyer when I arrived."

"Only because she prowls the house at night. Beast does nothing but nap before the hearth all day."

His grumpy words were belied by the obvious affection in his voice. "Regardless, not many employers would help their servant in such a way. Or allow them to bring home stray after stray."

"I fear I've little choice, as the need to help those less fortunate is deeply ingrained in Samuel's nature."

"Clearly. It is an admirable attribute. Most likely the result of the kindness you showed him."

He halted at the end of the row and turned to face her. "Obviously Samuel told Katie-"

"Who told me. Yes."

He shrugged. "I did nothing anyone else wouldn't have done."

She raised her brows. Surely he didn't truly believe that. "On the contrary, I think many people would have left a person who'd attempted to rob them where he fell. Or summoned the authorities. You saved his life."

"I merely offered him a choice. He was smart enough to choose wisely."

"A very generous choice, after you'd very generously saved his life."

Again he shrugged. "It just so happened I was in need of a footman."

Why did he insist on making light of what he'd done? She considered asking him, but decided to let the matter rest. For now. But she couldn't deny she was both surprised and intrigued by this unforeseen modest aspect of him-in addition to all the other unexpected aspects she'd learned this evening. The man was full of surprises.

He nodded toward the corner. "Would you care to sit?"

She craned her neck and saw a floral brocade settee set in the corner, surrounded by tall, leafy palms set in porcelain vases. A swatch of moonlight glazed the sitting area in a silvery glow, lending it an almost magical air. Unable to resist the enchanting spot, she nodded and murmured, "Thank you."

After they were seated, she tilted back her head and heaved a contented sigh at the sight of the glittering stars. "This feels like a tiny slice of indoor heaven."

"I couldn't agree more."

Lifting her head, she found his gaze resting upon her. Seated with a slight slouch at his end of the settee, his fingers lightly linked and resting on his flat stomach, his long legs stretched before him, casually crossed at the ankles, he appeared the personification of relaxation. Which was quite vexing, as she felt so very… unrelaxed.

Hoping she sounded as unconcerned as he looked, she asked, "Do you intend to keep all the animals you rescue?"

"I have until now, but given how rapidly their numbers keep growing, I suppose I'll need to consider allowing some to be taken in by others-provided I'm assured the animals would be properly cared for."

"You've never asked Samuel to stop?"

"No. And I've no intention of doing so. He has a way with animals that I've never seen before. He'd make an excellent veterinarian. I plan to discuss with him the possibility of sending him to school."

She didn't even attempt to hide her surprise. "You'd send your footman to school?"

"If he wished to go. He has a true talent. And a dedication."

"That is very generous of you."

"Not as much as you might think. I have an ulterior motive."

"Which is?"

A hint of mischief danced in his eyes. "I've always wanted a protege. It's quite fashionable, you know. Of course, now that Samuel has expanded his strays beyond merely animals, I'm thinking I'll need to expand our enterprise to include some sort of employment agency."

Carolyn studied him and inwardly shook her head. She'd always believed herself an astute judge of character, yet in this case it seemed she'd done a poor job of it. Not that she hadn't always liked him-she'd found him personable and charming from the first time they met. But she'd never considered him as anything more than what he appeared-an extremely attractive scapegrace.

Clearly she'd been very wrong. And that was very unsettling. He'd proven difficult to resist when she thought him nothing more than handsome. But now… now there were things to admire about him-other than his charm and good looks. Noble things. And that was an attraction she knew would prove even more difficult to resist. And which begged the question…

Did she really want to resist?

The voice inside her answered No! so quickly, so emphatically, so loudly, it almost seemed as if she'd said it out loud.

"No, what?" he asked with a questioning look.

Dear God, she had said it out loud. "Nothing," she said, then speedily added, "I recall you telling me that you don't like to share. Yet your actions belie your words, Lord Surbrooke."

"Daniel… my extremely lovely, very dear, greatly talented, highly amusing, extraordinarily intelligent, possessor of the most kissable lips I've ever seen, as well as an excellent memory, Lady Wingate." He blew out an exaggerated breath. "That is getting to be rather a mouthful, you know. You could put me out of my misery."

She pretended she hadn't heard him say kissable lips. "And miss hearing what you'll come up with next? I think not."

"Just my luck. As for my assertion that I don't like to share, I suppose I should clarify my statement. It depends on what I'm sharing." His glittering gaze seemed to burn through her clothing, to scorch her skin. "And whom I'm sharing it with."

And with those few words, a plethora of images bombarded her-of him and her sharing. Heated kisses. Sensual touches. Their bodies.

Myriad wants and needs and emotions swamped her, confusing her, leaving her flustered and completely tongue-tied. She licked her suddenly dry lips, then stilled as he watched the gesture.