Caleb frowned. "You're frightened," he said, his eyebrows drawing together as she stepped even farther away. "I didn't mean to scare you."

I'm not afraid, she told herself. I'm Vermillion. I'm not afraid of any man, and especially not Caleb Tanner.

She tossed her head, wishing her hair was fashionably done up and she was wearing rice powder and rouge, wishing she felt more like Vermillion and less like Lee. "Don't be silly. I wasn't afraid. I was enjoying a bit of sport, is all. I wanted to see what it might be like to kiss you."

He stiffened and a muscle tightened in his cheek. "That's what you were doing? Having a bit of sport?"

She glanced away, then turned back and forced herself to smile. "I didn't see any harm in it."

Caleb stalked her, looking hard, even dangerous. "Then tell me, Miss Durant, did my kisses meet with your approval?"

She shrugged her shoulders, feeling not at all like Vermillion and trying so very hard to pretend. "I suppose so. Andrew's kisses are a bit more forceful. Yours were—"

Caleb jerked her hard against him, cutting off her words. "So you like things rough—is that it? Then rough is what you'll get."

She tried to turn away, but he caught her jaw, holding her immobile, and his mouth crushed down with brutal force.

It was a hard, taking kiss. A fierce, plundering kiss with none of the gentleness he had shown her before and yet her whole body went liquid with heat. Her fingers dug into the front of his shirt and she wasn't sure if she were trying to pull him closer or push him away. It took sheer force of will to tear herself free and step away from him.

Once she did, for an instant she just stood there, staring into his face, amazed that even his rough, brutal kisses had the power to move her, trying not to flinch beneath his cold regard. Something burned at the back of her eyes, though she wasn't quite sure why. Afraid she was about to embarrass herself, she turned and grabbed the reins of her horse.

There was a rock not far away. She tugged Grand Coeur in that direction, settled herself in the sidesaddle, whirled the gray, and urged the horse into a gallop, bolting out of the trees and riding like fury back to the house.

She would be safe there, she told herself Safe from Caleb Tanner. Safe from herself.

It was the latter that Lee feared the most.


Caleb watched the small figure riding off down the hill. He was hard and throbbing, aching with unspent desire, but it was the tightness in his chest he couldn't ignore. If he closed his eyes, he could still see Vermillion's face when she had looked up at him, see the moisture in her beautiful aqua eyes. She had stared at him as if he had wounded her in some way, as if she had given him a measure of her trust and he had betrayed her.

Damn it to hell, it was madness. The woman was one of the most notorious courtesans in England. She might be young, but already she'd had countless lovers. Stories of her exploits circulated with regularity in gentlemen's clubs all over London. Even now, the betting books laid odds as to which of her lovers she would choose as her protector.

So how was it her soft mouth had trembled under his as if she were an innocent? As if she had rarely been kissed before and certainly never in a way that had stirred her to passion?

It was insane to have kissed her at all, he knew, but ever since his meeting with Colonel Cox, visions of her full lips and ripe body had haunted him. He couldn't seem to think of anything else.

An intimate relationship, Major Sutton believed, might prove highly useful. Seduce the seductress. Why not? Even Colonel Cox believed the notion might have merit. Who knew what might be discovered?

But he hadn't expected her kisses to be so sweet. Hadn't expected her to behave like the innocent she often appeared. He hadn't expected the wild surge of jealousy he had felt when she mentioned her lover.

Or the tears in her eyes when she turned and rode away.

Dammit to bloody hell!

Caleb cursed himself as he swung up onto the back of the bay. He was an officer in the British Army, a man with an important assignment. What was he going to say to Colonel Cox if Vermillion sent him packing? If she dismissed him because he couldn't control his lust? God's teeth, it didn't bear thinking about.

He would have to apologize. There was no way around it. He just prayed it would be enough.


Sitting across from her friend, Elizabeth Sorenson, Lady Rotham, Gabriella Durant heard the sound of a door slamming closed at the rear of the house. A few minutes later, she recognized Vermillion's footsteps in the hall, then the thump of her kidskin boots racing up the stairs.

Gabriella rose from the sofa in the drawing room and made her way into the entry. "Vermillion? Darling, you mustn't be too long. Lord Nash is coming over this afternoon. I hope you haven't forgotten. He's promised to drive us into town to see the latest addition to Madame Tussaud's waxworks."

But Vermillion didn't answer. Gabriella sighed as she returned to the drawing room, an impressive salon done in cream and pale blue with ivory and gilt furniture and blue-and-gold damask curtains. A Chinese cloisonné vase overflowing with tulips sat on the marble mantel.

"I hope she's all right. I've been worried about her lately."

Elizabeth picked up her gold-rimmed porcelain teacup and took a sip of tea. "Why on earth would you be worried?"

"I don't exactly know. She's been behaving a little bit strangely. Perhaps she is nervous. Her birthday is coming up soon. She has promised to choose a protector. Perhaps she is having second thoughts."

"It was her idea, wasn't it?"

"For the most part, though I thought it well past time. Perhaps I pressed her a bit more than I should have."

"Nonsense. Vermillion is a vibrant, intelligent young woman—one who is currently being wooed by the some of the wealthiest, most sought after men in England. It's time she started living, made a place for herself in the world."

"That is what I always believed. From the day I brought her home from the orphanage, I began to think of her future. Marriage, of course, was never a consideration." She flicked a glance at her friend. "You and I both know being a wife is nothing more than a lifetime of discontent. Being shut away in the country, little more than a broodmare for one's husband." She shuddered dramatically. "It is hardly something I would wish for my niece, even were it possible to find a suitable match—which of course is out of the question."

"Choosing a lover is the only solution," Elizabeth agreed, one of the few who knew the truth of Vermillion's virginity. "We must simply be certain she picks the right man."

Gabby smoothed a wrinkle from the front of her bright blue muslin gown. "She seems to have narrowed it down to three."

Elizabeth nodded. "Lord Nash, Colonel Wingate, and Lord Andrew Mondale. I think she would probably be better off with Nash, but Mondale is terribly dashing and he carries a desperate tendre for her. If I were to choose, I would pick someone young and passionate for my first lover." She studied the leaves in the bottom of her cup. "Charles was that way when we were first wed. Unfortunately, the passion he felt was not for me."

"Charles was a fool," Gabriella snapped, setting her cup and saucer down with a clatter. "Moll Cinders was little more than a prostitute off the streets. She had no style, no sense of class."

Elizabeth laughed bitterly. "That is scarcely a consolation, Gabriella."

"The man was an idiot. You are beautiful and talented, intelligent and kind." She sighed. "But then, husbands all seem to carry the singular trait of being enamored of any woman other than the one they married."

Elizabeth made no reply, just returned her cup and saucer to the Hepplewhite table beside her chair. "At least I was smart enough to find a way out." She grinned, a look of remembrance creeping into her bright blue eyes. "I shall always think of Lord Halford with genuine fondness. Lucas is as talented in bed as he is at the gaming tables. He was younger then, of course, not so jaded. But he was a wonderful lover."

Elizabeth gazed upward, toward Vermillion's room on the second floor. "Yes… if I were your niece, I would definitely choose a young man for my first time."

"And gossip has it Mondale is nearly insatiable in bed." Gabriella gave up a wistful sigh. "Oh, to be that young again."

Elizabeth just laughed. "You needn't mourn your lost youth, Gabby, certainly not as long as Claymont continues to share your bed."

Gabriella thought of the handsome man who was her longtime lover and her worry for Vermillion faded. It was a good life for a woman, a life of excitement and freedom, living as you pleased, under no man's thumb.

Yes, she was doing exactly the right thing.


Two days passed. Vermillion was avoiding him, and knowing how much pleasure she took in her horses only made Caleb feel worse. It was late in the afternoon when he passed behind the house and chanced to see her slipping out the back door. Determined to head her off, he watched her descend the terrace steps and make her way to the spot she liked at the rear of the garden.

Caleb glanced around, checking to be certain no one saw him, then entered the garden and started walking quietly through the foliage, emerging a few minutes later in front of the bench next to the fountain. The moment she saw him, Vermillion surged to her feet.

"I told you before—you're not welcome here."

"I know," he said softly. "I came to apologize."

Vermillion glanced away. She looked paler than she should have, less vibrant, and he wondered if he were the cause. "You have nothing to apologize for. The fault was mine. I shouldn't have let you kiss me."