Opening her eyes, she turned toward the fireplace, then froze.

Lord Wesley stood in the open doorway, regarding her with an intense expression.

Heat singed her, as if she'd set herself on fire. Thrusting the Bride Thief's letter behind her, she inched backwards toward the desk. "Lord Wesley, what are you doing here?"

He closed the door, then walked slowly toward her, like a sleek cat stalking its prey, his dark gaze riveted on her. "I wished to speak to you. Your butler advised me you were in the drawing room and I offered to announce myself."

The back of her legs bumped into the desk and she swiftly turned, thrusting the letter into the top drawer, then slamming it shut. The bang reverberated through the quiet room, then silence reigned.

Eric walked across the room, not stopping until he stood directly in front of her. He fisted his hands to contain the hot jealousy pumping through him. He'd stood in the doorway for at least two minutes watching her before she'd noticed his presence. Watching her clutch the Bride Thief's letter to her heart, her eyes closed, heaving dreamy sighs, her color high. She'd looked innocent and beguiling. And utterly aroused. For another man.

Damn it all to hell and back. He'd called upon her to make certain she'd suffered no ill-effects from her adventure, and to hopefully discover if Adam Straton had visited to question her. But every thought had drained from his head when he saw her holding that damn letter. Every thought except the one that chanted Mine. Mine. Mine.

And it was about damn time he did something about it.

Leaning forward, he braced his palms on the desk on either side of her, bracketing her in. Her eyes widened and she leaned back slightly, but otherwise did not attempt to escape. Good. Now he had her right where he wanted her. Trapped.

"What did you thrust so hastily into the drawer, Miss Briggeham?" he asked in a silky voice.

"Oh, just a letter."

"It seemed like an important letter."

She swallowed once. "It was from a… friend."

"Indeed? Was it from a… gentleman friend?"

She lifted her chin and cocked a brow. "Why do you wish to know?"

Because I don't want you thinking about any other man, even if the other bloody man is me. He raised his hand and trailed his fingertips down her crimson-stained cheeks. "You're blushing. I was. wondering if your letter was the cause."

"If I'm blushing it's merely because it's very warm in here. And because you're standing… so close."

He looked down, carefully assessing the several inches that remained between them. His gaze wandered slowly upward, pausing on the generous swell of her breasts that even her modest neckline could not hide. He drew a deep breath, and her honey-sweet scent filled his head, overwhelming him with the urge to bury his face in her fragrant flesh. Raising his gaze back to hers, he asked, "And if I were to move even closer?"

Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips, and his groin tightened in immediate response. "I imagine I would grow warmer still."

His eyes intent on hers, he deliberately moved forward, erasing the few inches between them. Her scent fully enveloped him, and it took every ounce of his rapidly deteriorating control not to simply yank her into his arms and devour her. Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth across her jaw.

"Warmer?" he whispered against her ear. He flicked his tongue over her delicate lobe, then captured it gently between his teeth, enjoying her gasp of feminine pleasure.

"Very much warmer," she said in a breathless voice.

Leaning back just enough to look at her, he barely managed to swallow the growl that rose in his throat. Desire dilated her aqua eyes, and her lush mouth begged to be kissed.

He wanted her with an intensity he'd never experienced for any other woman. His entire body pulsed with a need that demanded to be met. A need he knew only she would satisfy. All the reasons he shouldn't make love to her flashed through his mind, but he squashed them like bothersome insects. He would protect her. Employ the discretion that ruled every other facet of his life. And she would be his.

Tipping up her chin with his fingers, he met her gaze. "I want you more than warm," he said softly. "I want you hot. Melting. Burning. For me. With me." He watched her absorb his words, her skin flushing deeper, the pulse at the base of her neck quickening. "Are you still willing?"

"I was never unwilling."

Heat scorched him at her reply. Stepping back, he ran his hands down her arms and entwined their fingers. "Unfortunately, this is not the time or place." He wanted no interruptions when he took Samantha Briggeham on the biggest adventure of her life. And erased all thoughts of any other man from her mind. And satisfied his hunger for her.

Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss against her honey-scented palm. "Meet me tonight. At midnight. At the lake."

A long look passed between them, and his heart thumped in slow, hard beats as he awaited her reply.

"All right," she whispered.

He refused to examine the relief that washed through him at her consent.

"How do you propose we go about…" her voice dropped even lower, "you know what? "

"I'm not certain I know which you know what you are referring to."

She drew what appeared to be a bracing breath, then rushed out with, "Which method of preventing pregnancy shall we employ?"

He stared at her, completely nonplussed. No woman had ever asked him such a thing.

"I've researched the various ways-"

"Researched? " Thank God his jaw was firmly attached or it would have dropped to the floor with a thud. "How did you do that?"

"I discussed the matter with my sisters."

A feeling he could only describe as horror pierced him. "Your sisters?" Good God, there went all hope for discretion. She was ruined before they'd begun.

Before he could find his voice, she continued, "They were quite knowledgeable on the subject, although I'm afraid they did not tell me exactly where I could secure a sea sponge such as they described." She looked up at him with a hopeful expression. "I don't suppose you would know?"

Bloody hell, could this conversation possibly get any worse? When he simply continued to stare at her, she clarified in a conspiratorial whisper, "The sort of sponge that keeps the you know what from going you know where."

Jesus. It apparently could get worse. Releasing her hands, he dragged his fingers down his face. "Samantha. Why did you discuss something of such an intimate nature with your sisters?"

"They were the logical choice, my lord, as I could not very well ask my mother. I needed information… information that you were unwilling to provide-"

"Because at that time you did not need such knowledge. Surely they were shocked when you questioned them."

"They were somewhat surprised, but I assured them that I wished to know for purely scientific research reasons."

"Scientific research?"

"Yes. When I explained I wished to conduct a comparative study of the reproductive cycles of several species, among them frogs, snakes, and mice, as they relate to humans, they were quite willing to discuss the matter with me. Believe me, there is no need to worry that they suspected the true reason I wished to know."

"But surely they thought your questions… odd."

"There is not much I could do, especially concerning scientific matters, that my sisters would consider odd. They're quite accustomed to my inquisitive nature. We've nothing to fear from them." Her lips twitched slightly. "So you may now remove that aghast and alarmed expression from your face."

He instantly rearranged his facial muscles, annoyed that he'd allowed his feelings to show so clearly. Could she really be correct in her assessment of her sisters' reaction to her inquiries? Did they really believe she only wished to know for scientific reasons? If any other woman had made such a claim, he'd have laughed at her. But Samantha… well, he had to admit such a claim somehow seemed reasonable coming from her. His shoulders relaxed a fraction. Frogs, snakes, and mice? Yes, that sounded like Samantha.

But then a thought occurred to him that narrowed his eyes. Bloody hell, had she considered taking another man as a lover? Like perhaps the Bride Thief? "If we'd already decided not to become lovers, why did you still seek such information?"

A decidedly guilty-looking flush washed over her cheeks, and his hands fisted at his sides. But rather than averting her gaze, she raised her chin a notch and met his stare. "Actually, my lord, you had decided we should not become lovers. I was hoping you would change your mind, and I wished to be prepared in case you did."

She'd sought the information for him, then, not some other man. She'd hoped he'd change his mind, and by God, he had. A combination of relief and heat surged through him. Reaching out, he once again entwined their fingers. "In that case," he said softly, "I'm glad you know what to expect."

"Well, actually I don't. Which method do you suggest we employ?"

He stepped closer to her, until their bodies just touched. "I shall withdraw myself from your body before I spill my seed." An image of them, naked, locked in a sensual embrace, her legs wrapped around him, his erection buried in her velvet warmth, flashed through him like a lightning bolt. Blood pooled in his groin, and he nearly groaned aloud at his strong reaction. Hell, if he did not depart her company immediately, he knew he stood in danger of kissing her again… and not being able to stop.

"You have my word that I shall protect you, Samantha." He squeezed her fingers, then reluctantly released her.