The reasons were unimportant; what mattered was that the longer he looked at her, the less he cared about the consequences of passion. "Since Harford isn't available, you can stay and earn your fee with me."

His words dropped into the silence like a pebble into a pond, sending ripples in all directions. Kit stopped in her tracks. She had been right to fear Strathmore, for his feline, green-gold gaze was mesmerizing. Her pulse accelerated, and she was uncertain whether the cause was fear or anticipation.

He held out his hand. "Come here," he said in a deep, easy voice.

She wanted to run. Instead, as if it had a will of its own, her hand lifted and grasped his. His long fingers twined around hers, and he drew her into his embrace.

She had known this man would be different, and he was. Instead of mauling her, he held her lightly, smoothing her unruly curls, stroking her back, resting his cheek against her hair while she became accustomed to his touch. Her eyes closed. Warmth. Strength. A subtle eroticism that ravished her senses. Slowly her body softened and molded to his.

"What's your name?" he murmured.

She didn't reply, for doing so would destroy the moment. For the first time since starting her quest, she felt safe. She had been so alone, so afraid…

He lifted her chin for a kiss. A shiver went through her when their lips touched. Though the kiss was undemanding, she could not have broken away to save her life. It deepened, became a voluptuous mating of lips and tongues, a harmony of pulses. Without an iota of physical force, he was melting her resistance.

The spell shattered when she felt his warm palms on her bare shoulders. Good Lord, he had untied the tapes that secured the back of her bodice, then drawn down the flimsy sleeves of her gown. If she didn't stop him, she'd soon be naked. And it wasn't only her clothing he was stripping away, but her defenses and her sense of purpose. How could she have so easily forgotten that he was one of the enemy? It was not an accident that he was called Lucifer.

With a choked gasp, she shoved herself away, the heels of her hands hard against his chest. "I must go." She tugged her sleeves up again. "I… I was engaged especially for Mr. Harford. If he releases me from that obligation, I'll return."

She slipped around him and moved toward the door. In another moment, she would be free____________________

Chapter 6

Lucien swore to himself as the girl slid away. Why did he have to set his sights on a doxy with an overdeveloped sense of responsibility? He reached out to draw her into his embrace again. "You can look for Harford later, if you still want to."

She gracefully stepped away, turning as she did. For an instant her face was silhouetted against the lamplight. A delicate profile, as pure as a Greek coin…

The recognition stunned him. Surely it wasn't possible-the resemblance was mere coincidence.

Instinct said otherwise.

Lust vanished, and he dived after her, catching her arm when she was halfway into the corridor. None too gently he pulled her back into the room and slammed the door, then swung her around so that he could see that unmistakable profile again. "By God, it really is you!"

She tried to twist away. "Let me go! I don't know what you're talking about."

He wondered if Lord Mace could have set her to spy on him. If so, that meant Mace was suspicious about his prospective new member, and the situation was more dangerous than Lucien had realized. But the girl shaking in his grasp did not seem like a hardened spy, or a whore, either. She had kissed like an innocent-an innocent who was learning quickly.

"Don't think you can deceive me again, my larcenous lady." He gripped her shoulder so that he could study her face at close range. With his other hand, he skimmed his fingertips over her features. "Clever how you've used cosmetics to subtly alter the shape and planes of your face. Your own mother would have trouble recognizing you. And you've padded your figure again, though not as obviously as when you were Sally."

Her resistance collapsed, and she stared at him, tears shimmering in her blue-gray eyes. "The game is up, isn't it?" All trace of the Yorkshire accent had vanished.

"It certainly is." He released her wrist. "Who the devil are you?"

She turned away and pressed trembling hands to her temples.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said more quietly, "but I want the truth. What is your real name-Kitty? Emmie Brown? Or Sally, like the bawdy tavern wench? Probably none of those."

She sighed and raised her head. "My name is Jane. I won't tell you my family name. I'm in enough trouble already."

He suspected that meant that he might recognize her family; her natural air was that of a gently bred young woman, the sort usually found in a London drawing room rather than a theatrical tavern. "Why have you been haunting the Hellions? Or is it only me you're trying to drive to distraction?"

"It's not you I'm interested in, Lord Strathmore, but another of your associates."

"Which one?"

She hesitated. "I'd rather not say."

"You're going to have to tell me something," he said sharply. "Surely you're aware of the penalties for theft. Since you're pretty, I don't suppose you will end up at Newgate, but if I decide to press charges, you will certainly be transported."

Her face paled. "Please don't turn me over to a magistrate. I swear that I want only what I'm entitled to."

He frowned. "Is your quarry a man who ruined you?"

She began prowling restlessly about the room, her pale gown fluttering around her ankles. "It was my brother who was ruined, though I'm affected, too."

"Did your brother lose a fortune at cards?"

She stopped and stared at him. "How did you know?"

"An informed guess," Lucien said dryly. "Gambling is the quickest road to ruin for a man. But what kind of contemptible young swine would allow his sister to risk herself to save him from his own folly?"

"James isn't like that." She drifted to the fireplace and gazed down at the banked coals. "One couldn't ask for a better or more responsible brother. He's in the army and had come home to convalesce from wounds. Just before he was due to return to his regiment, he was lured into a card game with… with a certain man. My brother was coerced, cheated, and probably drugged. When he awoke the next morning, the man had a note of hand saying that he would receive title to our family estate if James didn't pay him twenty thousand pounds within sixty days."

Lucien gave a soft whistle. "A bad business if true."

Hearing the reservation, Jane glared at him. "My brother is not a liar, and he did not make up that story in order to excuse his folly."

"If he feels he was cheated, why didn't he challenge the man to a duel?"

"And make a bad situation worse? The man who cheated him"-she gave a humorless smile-"for the purposes of this discussion, I'll call him Captain Sharp- has a great deal of influence. There would have been a terrible scandal that would have ruined my brother's career. James is a good shot and would probably have killed his opponent. If not…" She shivered. "I don't want to think of the alternative. I told James to return to his regiment because I had a plan that would solve the problem."

"So he went blithely off and left the situation in your hands." Lucien shook his head. "What is your plan-to slide a dagger between your quarry's ribs? Not a good idea."

She began drumming her fingers on the mantelpiece. "Believe me, I don't fancy myself as Lady Macbeth. I've learned that Captain Sharp has done this sort of thing to other young men-usually ones like my brother, who are well-born but not extremely wealthy or influential. It's his custom to keep the notes close, either on his person or in his baggage. I hoped to steal the note back before the sixty days are done."

"You say that as if theft is a perfectly logical solution rather than dangerous lunacy." Lucien tried to decide if she was the bravest woman he'd ever met, or the most foolish. Probably both. "Are you and James twins?"

There was an odd pause before she replied, "No, I'm three years older. What made you think we might be twins?"

He shrugged. "Because you seem to be unusually close."

A shadow crossed her expressive face. "That's because our parents died when we were young. There was only the two of us."

"No other relative to look out for the family interests?"

"A cousin has acted as guardian, but he has lived abroad for several years."

"Perhaps I can help," Lucien offered. Besides doing a good deed, it would also give him more information about one of the Hellions. His guess was that Jane's Captain Sharp was Harford or Nunfield. Both had unsavory reputations as gamesters.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, startled. "This isn't your problem."

"You would be wise to accept any aid you can get, my dear," he said mildly. "This is what-your third attempt to get close enough to your quarry to steal what you want? Or are there other occasions I don't know about?"

She gave a rueful smile. "You've seen me every time."

"It's a miracle that you haven't been ravished or arrested yet," he said with exasperation. "If you tell me who you're stalking, there's a good chance that I can get you and your brother out of trouble."

Her eyes narrowed. "I see I shall have to be blunt. Your reputation is not precisely pristine, Lord Strathmore. You may think I'm a fool to reject your help, but I would be a greater fool to trust you."