“I am more grateful than you know,” he murmured, coming into the room, “for your kindness to my sister.”

Vanessa looked up with a smile. “She is deserving of kindness and easy to love.”

“You seem to enjoy her company.”

“I do, very much.”

“Then your stay here has not been so very onerous?”

She hesitated. “No, not at all.”

He read the implication in her pause: not onerous yet. Not as long as their bargain remained unfulfilled.

“Will you accompany me to the gardens?” he asked. “There is something I would like to show you.”

Her sudden wariness was reminiscent of her previous nervousness around him. “At this time of night?”

Damien kept his tone light. “Pray, don’t look as if you expect me to assault you, sweeting. I have nothing so ominous in mind, I assure you. The bath for Olivia is almost finished. I thought you might care to see it, without all the workmen present.”

Vanessa glanced at the window, whose curtains had been drawn against the darkness, and then down at her silk dinner gown. The square neckline and short, puffed sleeves would expose a wide expanse of flesh to the evening air.

“Perhaps I should fetch a wrap,” she said uncertainly.

“I think you’ll be comfortable enough without one. The conservatory is quite warm.”

“Very well…”

His eyes smiled at her as he took her arm and escorted her through the doors into the garden. The night air was cool on her bare flesh. The moon was nearly full and quite brilliant, while the stars shone like diamonds on black velvet.

She must be mad to venture into a serene, moonlit garden with such a man, Vanessa reflected, and yet a reckless pleasure filled her, a keen sense of anticipation. Perhaps she had partaken of too much wine…

“You are suddenly quiet,” Damien observed into the silence.

“I am questioning the wisdom of being here with you.”

“Would you rather inspect the conservatory on your own? I will leave you to go on alone, if you wish.”

“No, I don’t wish to go alone.”

“Come now, sweeting, I won’t have you afraid of me. If I haven’t pressed myself on you in all my visits to your bedchamber where we enjoy absolute privacy, I’m unlikely to do so here where we might be spied upon.”

“Even so, you will forgive me if I am wary of your hedonistic tendencies.”

He shook his head slowly. “It saddens me that you have such a poor opinion of my character. And to think I’ve attempted to apply my most charming manner of address with you.”

Vanessa bit back a smile, determined not to succumb to his sensual appeal, yet she had to admit she enjoyed their verbal sparring and the challenge of keeping pace with him in their game of wits. “I imagine I shall manage to resist your charm. You would do better to practice it on a more willing lady.”

“Alas, there are no others available at present. I fear you will have to suffice.”

“I doubt a single female would be able to satisfy a man of your vast appetites.”

“I think you underrate yourself.”

“And I think you overrate yourself.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a set-down? Come, darling, I might become insulted.”

“Would it be possible to insult you sufficiently to make you give up your pursuit of me?”

The long, vaguely amused look he gave her made her heartbeat quicken. How could she allow herself to be so affected by the wicked charm in those arresting eyes?

Vanessa shivered with awareness. Whenever she was near him, she fought temptation. And there was so much of it.

“Here we are,” he murmured after a moment as they came to the end of the terraced garden.

They had reached the conservatory. When Damien held the door open for her, Vanessa hesitated to enter the dark, cavernous hothouse.

“Wait a moment, and I shall light a lamp.” He entered, and a moment later she heard the flare of a lucifer being struck.

“There… does that dispel your anxiety?”

She couldn’t say that it did. If anything her anxiety increased, for the lamp’s glow only highlighted the chiseled beauty of his face.

Her wariness increased more when she saw Damien latch the door behind them. He must have seen her response, for he said casually, “I prefer not to be disturbed, but if it will ease your mind I shall help you arm yourself.”

He moved over to a shelf where gardening tools were kept. After searching a moment, he handed her a two-foot length of pipe.

“This will make a substantial weapon. You may beat me off with it if I make untoward advances.”

His warm eyes touched by lazy sensuality, he smiled down at her, obviously not worried that he was in any immediate danger from her. Vanessa accepted the pipe with skepticism, suspecting that it, like the key to her bedchamber, was designed to engender a false sense of security.

He led her into the vast interior of the conservatory, along aisles of potted roses and exotic orchids, toward an array of lemon and lime and orange trees. The air was much warmer here, moist and fragrant with the scents of blossoms and damp earth.

Eventually they reached a pair of exquisite Chinese silk screens that had been erected for privacy. Beyond was a tiled pool, partially sunk into the ground, filled with gently swirling water.

“An existing boiler heats the water,” Damien explained, “but new pipes had to be routed.”

The pool was obviously designed for an invalid, Vanessa saw. The near end was equipped with a wide ledge approximately thigh high, while inside the pool a narrow ramp sloped downward, so that the patient could be eased into the water.

“So what think you, sweeting? Does it meet your expectations?”

She nodded honestly. “I find it quite impressive. Indeed, I am astonished.”

“Astonished that I could be creative? I do possess a few modest talents. Depraved libertines are allowed them, you know.”

“Your ability doesn’t surprise me. Just that you would put your mind and talents to such good use. Most noblemen of means have a decided lack of interest in productive accomplishments.”

He smiled gently. “Then I hope I may prove to be different from the noblemen of your acquaintance.”

He showed her an oak cabinet that held towels and blankets and dressing gowns. Then he set the lamp on a bench.

“Would you care to test the water? It is warm and quite pleasant.”

“Now?”

He gave her one of his soul-stopping smiles. “Now is an ideal time. And if you enjoy the waters, you will be in a better position to persuade my sister to make use of them.”

She couldn’t look away from his heated gaze. He was bold, shameless, compelling-and she was falling hopelessly under his spell.

Damien sat on the bench to remove his shoes and stockings and rolled up the hems of his evening breeches above the knee. When he stood, Vanessa’s eyes widened.

“Never fear, I am not undressing entirely.” His tone was light, enchantingly playful; his eyes beguiled.

Moving to the bath, he sat on the ledge and swung his legs around to immerse them in the pool, before sighing with pleasure. “Will you come and join me?”

When she hesitated, he lowered his voice to a husky murmur, as seductive as sin itself. “Take off your slippers and stockings, Vanessa. Dare to live dangerously. It is not so very wicked to go barefoot, after all.”

Vanessa felt her willpower faltering, yet she remained immobile.

His voice dropped to a caress. “Indulge me, angel-eyes, if you won’t indulge yourself.”

When still she wouldn’t respond to his persuasion, Damien shook his head sadly. “Do you know what your trouble is? You are too repressed. You refuse to let out the passionate woman inside you.”

She winced as he struck a sensitive nerve. Roger had frequently accused her of being devoid of passion, and it hurt to have this man make a similar accusation, even in jest. It hurt more to know how Damien would react when he realized she was, in truth, cold and passionless. He wouldn’t want her in his bed then.

Her chin lifted defiantly. She didn’t want him to want her. And she had given him fair warning more than once that she would make a poor choice of mistress.

Although realizing she was allowing herself to be brazenly manipulated, she did as Damien asked, removing her shoes and stockings and joining him on the ledge. He had clearly known how she would react to his prodding, for she saw the satisfaction in his devilish eyes as she sat beside him. Feeling wicked all the same, she raised her skirts a few inches and let her bare feet dangle in the water, which was deliciously warm and soothing.

He slanted her an amused glance. “You really must learn to trust me.”

“I would more readily trust a wolf.”

In mock dismay, he clasped a hand to his breast. “Ah, fair witch, you wound my decadent soul.”

“Perhaps you should ask Dr. Underhill to bandage it for you.”

Damien laughed, a low, husky sound. “I cannot fathom why you are so skittish around me. I’ve never made any truly serious attempt on your virtue.”

“No? You could have fooled me.”

“I have kissed you but once, and that was before I knew you.”

“I would not say that you know me now.”

“Ah, but I do. I’ve learned a great deal about you in the past weeks. You are kind and generous. Spirited and clever-with a rapier wit I am hard-pressed to defend myself against. And you are afraid of men.” His blithe tone had suddenly acquired a serious edge.

Vanessa bit her lip but remained silent. Why ever had she been foolish enough to divulge her secrets to him?