“Guid day, Teresa!” She hefted the pan and set it on the counter. “I’ve been teaching Marcel hou to cook taffy. Ye’ve come just in time.”

“Mm. Delicious.” Teresa settled on a high stool and watched Lily scrape her treasure into a flat pan.

“Care for a taste, mademoiselle?” The chef snagged a thick dollop of sugared butter from the bowl and proffered it to her with a bow.

She had no heart for confections at present. But the taffy was rich and sweet and stuck to her fingers, then somehow to her cheek and brow too.

She set her elbow on the counter and her chin on her palm. “So much for donning my finery for the modiste’s shop.”

Lily giggled. It lightened Teresa’s heart. Joy could be found in little things.

She would take comfort in that when this adventure was over and she was home again.

“Have you seen Moira or Abigail about?” she asked. “I was to go with them to the modiste’s.”

“Didna Moira’s message find ye at home? The modiste hasna finished the gowns, so they all went aff to the tea room wi’ Mrs. Caruthers.”

“Leaving you here to cook?”

“’Tisn’t a penance.” She offered a twinkling smile to the Frenchman. He lifted her hand and placed a fervent kiss upon it. “They hoped ye’d join them,” Lily added over her shoulder.

“Perhaps after I have another bite of this delicacy.” Perhaps not at all.

Perhaps she would go straight home, pack her portmanteau, and return to Harrows Court Crossing and the remainder of her life there. At least it wouldn’t be spent as Mr. Waldon’s wife.

That notion at least made her smile. Her smile widened as the lovebirds stared into each other’s eyes.

She was seizing the moment of their distraction to lick taffy off a forefinger when Lord Eads appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her finger slid from between her lips with a pop.

A slow grin curved up one side of his mouth.

Annie had once told her that men liked to imagine things in women’s mouths—for what reason, Teresa never quite discovered. So, because she would not again have the opportunity to test this, she slipped her middle finger into her mouth and sucked on it.

His grin disappeared.

“Duncan!” Lily said. “Do come taste the taffy.”

He strode into the kitchen. “Forgive me for declining, but I’ve need o’ Miss Finch-Freeworth upstairs.” He grasped her hand and drew her toward the door. She tossed a shrug to Lily and the chef and allowed him to pull her into the narrow servants’ stairwell.

“What is happening upst—” He caught her mouth beneath his.

It was a hungry kiss, and she met it with all the desperate desire she felt for him but had thought she would never again be able to satisfy. Her hands found his arms then his chest. When she slipped them beneath his coat to explore the contours of muscle through his shirt she thought he would stop her. Instead a deep rumble of encouragement sounded in his chest. It set off a throbbing ache inside her. His hands cupped her behind and he dragged her against him.

She gasped and broke free of his mouth. “Are you doing this only because I licked my fingers?”

He replied with a series of kisses that grew increasingly deep and culminated in her moaning softly and struggling to press even closer to him.

“Five,” he said against her cheek.

“I only licked two.” He stroked the tender inner crease of her thigh and pleasure swamped her. “Clearly I should have found a batch of taffy weeks ago,” she panted.

“Elspeth is five.”

The import of his words penetrated her pleasure. She pushed him away with her palms.

“Elspeth? Are you certain?”

“Yer parents will be disappointed.” The grin that lurked at the corner of his delicious mouth nearly got the best of her. Mind whirling, she fought against desire

“My parents? Whatever—” Her mouth dropped open. “Mr. Waldon!”

“Aye, Waldon.” He seemed to search her face. She supposed she looked as stunned as she felt. She could not fathom it.

Then abruptly it seemed the most obvious thing in the world.

Her heartbeats lurched into a gallop.

“Five,” she could only say.

He took her hand and with an inscrutable look started up the stairs. Amidst the clamor of nerves and delirious stupefaction Teresa considered telling him about the decision she had come to earlier. But she could not. She had dreamed of this—so many dreams she could not count them. Nothing could stop her now.

The door before which he halted was not in the same part of the hotel as his sisters’ bedchambers. He looked down at her, a question in his gorgeous eyes.

“I’m certain,” she said.

He opened the door and she stepped inside.

Sumptuous beauty was spread before her. Carpeted with cloths of rich colors, layered with giant silk cushions, and strewn with fresh pink rose petals, it looked like some sort of harem chamber. She was speechless. She had not marked him as a romantic or a seducer. But this had taken time to prepare.

“I didn’t think—that is, I didn’t imagine—” she stuttered. “You knew I would summon up a fifth husband?”

“Managing female,” Duncan murmured, masking his satisfaction.

She turned her face up and her eyes shone with a wondering, wary light.

“If you think I am so managing I wonder that you have not asked why I haven’t found a willing husband for myself in all these weeks.”

“Do ye?”

“Why haven’t you?”

Because he was a daft fool. Because he was running as fast as he could yet losing ground. Because he needed to have her beneath him and if she belonged to another man that would never happen. Because he couldn’t bear the thought of it.

He touched her cheek then slid his fingers into her silken hair. He brushed a kiss across her lips, then traced the seam with his tongue, tasting her. “A wager’s a wager.” She tasted of buttery sugar and she was soft everywhere—

the dip beneath her ear, the contour of her throat, the curve of her neck to her shoulder. Her intoxicating lips.

She clutched him with slender hands. “You trusted that I would not renege on my part of the wager? This part?”

“Ye wanted me. No th’other way around.” Not the truth. He had wanted her since the moment he’d seen her. He’d tried to escape to Scotland to save himself, but she hadn’t allowed that.

“I did,” she whispered, stretching to allow him the flavor of her neck. “I do.

Oh.” Her hands convulsed on his shoulders. “Duncan, make love to me now before I lose my courage.”

“Ye’ve more courage than any leddy I’ve ever kent, Teresa Finch-

Freeworth.”

“Let’s not test that theory now, though. All right?”

He laughed and took her waist in his hands.

“Will you undress me?” Her voice quavered but her gaze was direct. “I understand that’s preferable.”

He smiled. “Aye, ’tis preferable.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“No. I’m thinking hou I’m the luckiest man on earth.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut. “Undress me. Please. Now. I don’t think I can bear to wait another minute.”

Garment by garment, slowly he revealed the body he’d been lusting over —forever, it seemed. She stood perfectly still, a rosy glow high on her cheeks and her breathing fast, and did not shy away when he finally drew the chemise over her head and discarded it.

“Yer beautiful.”

Her lashes lifted. “You are still dressed.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Remove your clothes too.” She caught her plump lower lip between her teeth. “Please.”

“Yer wager didna specify that.”

Her eyes popped wide. “But, I—Oh. You are teasing now.” Her grin was so sweet he had to taste it. She responded to his kiss with her entire naked body, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lush curves to him. He filled his hands with her soft behind and made her feel his desire.

She moaned. His cock jerked. He pulled her tight to him. She rocked her sex into him and slid her tongue into his mouth, and he knew that if he didn’t remove her from him now, in a moment he’d be taking her against the bedpost still fully dressed.

That was no way for a lady to lose her innocence. His lady.

He peeled her off him and had to force his attention up from her spectacular breasts. The aureoles were large and dusky pink and tight with her arousal.

“Lie down,” he said roughly, grabbing at one of his boots.

She pivoted to look about the chamber, her breasts swaying. “Anywhere?”

He tore at his cravat. “Anywhere.”

She disposed herself on her stomach on a pile of pillows on the floor. She sank into the cushions and cast a delighted grin over her shoulder.

He couldn’t unbutton his waistcoat fast enough.

She scooped a handful of rose petals and scattered them. “This is positively decadent,” she purred.

“Ye’ve got perfect hips.” He dragged his shirt over his head. “Wide. Strong.

Beautiful.”

“I cannot believe you are looking at my bared behind and telling me I have wide hips. I may die of shame.”

“Ye’ve no shame to speak o’.”

“It’s true. I’ve never seen any use for it. But perhaps I should have.”

He knelt and curved a palm over her buttock. She was soft. So soft. He dipped his thumb between her thighs. “I like ye shameless.”

“Oh— oh.”

“Spread yer knees, luve.”

She did as commanded and he drew her back against him.

Her breaths came brokenly. “What are you doing?”

“What I’ve been wanting to do since I first saw ye.” With his hands he guided her, stroking her against his erection until she released a long sigh.