"Thank you, sir."

Leaving by the rear entrance through which he had entered, Caleb walked out of the colonel's Whitehall office and into a dismal London day. Inwardly, he replayed the conversation he'd had with Cox, including the confirmation that Parklands was likely involved in passing information to the French.

Thoughts of Vermillion rested heavily on his mind. He tried to imagine her a traitor who slept with men to gather information, but the picture wouldn't gel. He hoped his instincts, always reliable in the past, were on track again in this.

"So how'd it go in there?" Major Mark Sutton, his helmet clamped beneath one arm, walked up as Caleb headed away from Whitehall.

"The news about Parklands wasn't good. Looks like something is definitely going on, but I imagine you already know that."

He nodded. "Cox called me in as soon as the report on the courier arrived. Looks like the Durant women are in it up to their pretty little necks."

Caleb shook his head. "Not necessarily. My instincts tell me the younger Durant has no idea what's going on, but of course I can't be sure. I'll keep after it. Maybe something will turn up."

"I gather you haven't bedded the wench yet."

Caleb felt a flicker of annoyance. He could have told Sutton he intended to do just that. All he had to do was wait till the time was right. But for reasons he couldn't completely fathom, he didn't want the major or anyone else to know what went on between the two of them.

"As far as I know, Vermillion isn't involved with anyone at present-and that includes me."

Sutton paused on the paving stones. "I suppose that's going to change on the night of her birthday."

Caleb stopped, too, an odd heaviness creeping into his chest. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Sutton pulled a watch fob from the pocket of his jacket. "I've got to run. Got a meeting with one of my contacts."

"Is that how we caught the courier? One of your contacts told you the man was coming through that night and you fed the sheriff some cock-and-bull story about smugglers?"

Sutton smiled. "Let's just say, I'm a handy fellow to have around."

Caleb watched the major walk away and wondered what the man would turn up next. Whatever it was, he hoped it didn't involve Vermillion.

He thought of her as he made his way out of the city, riding along a back road toward Parklands. Trying to figure her out was frustrating, to say the least. The more he was around her, the less he understood her. It was almost as if she were two different people: the mysterious courtesan Vermillion he rarely saw in the stable but half the wealthy men in London spoke of with a kind of awe and a number claimed to have bedded; the other a pretty young woman with a generous nature and an air of innocence and lack of guile Caleb found wildly appealing.

It had to be some kind of game he didn't yet understand, though something told him it was crucial that he did. He needed to discover the woman she really was, to slip past her defenses and see inside her head. Seduction seemed the answer.

Caleb wished he didn't look forward to the notion with quite so much relish.

Dark clouds rolled overhead and the air smelled of mud and damp leaves. The rhythmic clop of the horses' hooves disappeared beneath the low groan of thunder. A storm was moving in. Seated inside the elegant Durant barouche next to Jeannie, Lee straightened the skirt of the black bombazine gown she had worn to Mary's funeral and removed the matching black bonnet, hoping they arrived back at Parklands before the sky opened up and the deluge began in earnest.

She set the bonnet on the seat between her and her maid and perhaps she sighed, for her aunt's silver-blond head came up from the book she had been reading.

"My poor darling." She closed the book and set it on the seat beside her. "I know how terrible all of this has been for you, but it wasn't your fault. You did everything you could to help poor Mary."

Lee stared out the window, saw a distant flash of lightning. "I suppose I did. I just wish it had been enough." Both Aunt Gabby and Jeannie had accompanied her to the simple graveside service at the parish church near the house in Buford Street. Helen, Annie, Rose, and Sarah were there, and yet she had felt unbearably alone. Insanely she wished that Caleb could have been there, but the thought was so absurd she pushed it out of her head.

"I keep thinking about her. I don't understand it. Why would she leave the house in the middle of the night? Why would someone want to kill her?"

"Whatever the reason, it had nothing to do with you. You need to put it behind you, darling. In time, perhaps the constable will be able to apprehend the man who killed her. Until then, there is no use torturing yourself."

Jeannie sat up straighter on the seat beside her. "Oui, I 'ope they catch 'im. I would like nothing so much as to watch 'im 'ang."

"I wish I could tell them something useful, something that would help." But she couldn't. She had no idea why Mary had left the safety of her home, whom she might have been meeting, or why.

"The matter is in the hands of the authorities," Aunt Gabby said. "It's their responsibility to see Mary's killer brought to justice."

But no matter how many times her aunt continued to remind her Mary's death was not her concern, the questions kept whirling round in her mind. By supper she had a pounding headache. She ordered a tray sent up to her room and stayed awake thinking about Mary until late into the evening.

It was well past midnight and still she couldn't fall asleep. Finally giving in to the restless energy she couldn't seem to shake, Lee shoved back the rose silk counterpane and climbed down from her big four-poster bed. Pulling a yellow quilted wrapper on over her night rail, she paused to light a candle, then headed downstairs, thinking that perhaps a glass of milk would help her to fall asleep.

The house was quiet, the kitchen empty. As she walked toward the windows at the rear of the kitchen, she caught the glow of a lantern burning at the far end of the stable. Old Arlie and the rest of the grooms would be asleep in their quarters in the opposite end. She hesitated only an instant before she blew out the candle, set it down on a long wooden table, and turned toward the door.

She knew what drew her, knew that it was Caleb she needed to see. She wanted him to hold her as he had done before, to speak to her in that soft way of his and ease her troubled thoughts.

As she walked toward the yellow glow of the lantern, drawn like a moth to a flame, she knew she faced that same kind of danger. Caleb wanted her. He had made his desire more than clear. But when she thought of Mary and how short life could be, thought of her birthday little more than two weeks away, she no longer cared.

She had almost reached the far end of the barn when she saw a man's tall figure move out of the shadows beside the lantern and snuff out the flame.

"Caleb... ?"

The man turned at the sound of her voice, but did not speak. For several long moments, he said nothing and she thought that she was mistaken and the man was someone else, a traveler, perhaps, who had wandered in off the road seeking shelter from the approaching storm.

"It's late," he said softly. "You should be in bed."

Relief and a warm sort of awareness trickled through her. She walked quietly toward him, close enough to look into his face. For a moment, the dark clouds parted. In a sliver of moonlight slanting in through the window she could see the faint roughness of his late-evening beard, the hard line of his jaw, the reflection of lamplight in the centers of his eyes.

She stopped in front of him, the ache inside her growing, the need, the yearning for him to open his arms as he had before and pull her protectively against him.

"I couldn't sleep. I saw the lantern burning. I thought..."

She saw him move in the darkness, closing the short space between them. "I'm glad you came." She felt his fingers encircling her wrist and then he was leading her forward, down to the far end of the barn and into the small room he occupied, opening the narrow wooden door and drawing her in.

He closed the door and left her for a moment. She heard him moving in the darkness, the sound of flint striking tinder, then a candle flared and his shadow appeared on the wall. The room, she saw, was tidy, the narrow bed perfectly made, the blanket on top carefully tucked in. A bowl and pitcher perched on top of the bureau at the side of the room and a ladder-backed chair rested in the corner. A pair of brown breeches were neatly folded on the seat and a pair of worn, high-topped leather riding boots sat on the floor beside the chair.

"Welcome to my humble abode." His smile was faint, his dark eyes intent. The slight curve of his mouth slipped away altogether as he looked at her standing there in her nightclothes.

She glanced down at her yellow quilted wrapper and tried not to feel self-conscious. "I know I shouldn't have come but I..." She shook her head, her voice trailing off a second time. What could she tell him? That she needed him? That somehow he had become important to her? That Mary's death continued to haunt her and he was the only one who might understand.

"But you what?" he pressed, standing close again, moving so quietly she hadn't heard his footsteps on the rough wooden floor.

She glanced away, uncertain now, thinking that perhaps she should simply turn and leave, go back to the house and her empty room.

She felt his fingers on her chin, turning her to face him. "I know why you came, Vermillion-we both know-even if you aren't ready to admit it."

Framing her face between his palms, he lowered his head and his mouth came down over hers. It was the gentleness that surprised her, the unhurried claiming, little more than a brush of lips. There was mastery in the kiss, a promise of things to come, yet his lips were so soft they seemed to melt into her own, to blend and sink into a perfect union.

Slow heat enveloped her. Warmth slid into her stomach, seeped out through her limbs, seemed to wrap around her. The kiss went on and on, a coaxing, lingering, mind-numbing kiss that took and gave and seemed to have no end. He teased her lips apart and his tongue slid in, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. Her breasts swelled beneath the heavy quilted wrapper and her nipples tightened, turned sensitive where they rubbed against her cotton nightgown.

Caleb's tongue entwined with hers and heat washed over her. He kissed her one way and then another and her legs began to tremble. She clutched the front of his full-sleeved shirt and kissed him back, wanting to please him, using her own tongue as he had done. Caleb groaned into her mouth and his arms came around her. He kissed her even more deeply and the trembling in her legs moved through the rest of her body.

She had tied back her hair before retiring. Caleb slipped the ribbon from the end, then combed his fingers through the heavy dark red curls, spreading them around her shoulders. The quilted wrapper magically slipped away. The little pink bow closing the drawstring at the top of her nightgown fell beneath the skill of his hands. The opening parted and he slid the garment off her shoulders and down over her breasts. Caleb kissed her as it pooled in a soft heap at her feet.

He drew back to look at her and she could feel the heat of his eyes burning into her. She resisted the urge to cover herself but only just barely. Caleb leaned over and kissed her again. He trailed kisses along her jaw and she felt the warmth of his mouth on the skin beneath her ear, the glide of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder. One of his big hands cupped a breast and he started to knead the fullness, to shape it into his palm.

A wave of pleasure washed through her. Goose-bumps raced over her skin. He kissed his way to her breasts, bent his head and took one into his mouth, and the fire he had kindled roared into a blaze. His mouth was like hot, wet, silk and everywhere he touched her seemed to burn.

Lee clung to his powerful shoulders, feeling the tension there, no longer able to think, no longer caring, filled with desire and every moment sinking deeper under the spell he wove around her. She slid her fingers into the silky dark hair curling at the nape of his neck, and her head fell back, giving him better access to her breasts. Caleb tended one and then the other, sucking them into his mouth, laving and tasting, tugging on the ends. He left them swollen and aching, her heart pounding savagely and her body filled with a longing unlike anything she had known.

"Caleb..." she whispered, her hands trembling as she slid them beneath his shirt, desperate to touch him as he was touching her. Reaching down, he dragged the garment over his head and tossed it away, and in the flickering light of the candle she could measure the breadth of his shoulders, see the indentations that marked his ribs, the deep contours of muscle shadowed by the flickering candlelight. A thatch of curly brown hair spread over his chest and arrowed down to his waist and her fingers inched to know the texture, to discover the feel of it against her skin.

Caleb pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again. As he had rightly guessed and she had only suspected, she had come to him for this, come so that he could guide her in this joining of a man and woman that was destined to become part of her future.

His hands skimmed over her body, moving lower, cupping the womanly place made to receive him. She was wet, she realized as he began to touch her there, slick and hot and ready to accept him inside her. She thought that he would move to take her, but instead he began to stroke her, parting the folds of her sex, caressing her lightly, slowly, then penetrating more deeply, his fingers sliding into her again and again.

The flames returned, hotter than before, the craving so strong it was nearly pain. She hadn't known, though she should have suspected. Should have guessed from the women's whispered words and knowing glances, but until now, until Caleb, she hadn't imagined the clawing need, the scorching desire a man could ignite in a woman.

She made no protest when he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to his narrow bed, just slid her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder, trusting him to guide her. As he settled her on the blanket and began to remove his breeches, her eyes widened at the heavy part of him straining upward against his belly. He was long and thick, like the stallion she had seen with the mares. But she knew that a woman was made to accept this part of a man, and that a man was often measured by the length, breadth, and hardness of his shaft. If that were so, Caleb was quite a man.

She closed her eyes as he came up over her, parted her thighs with his knee and settled himself between her legs. He could feel her trembling, she knew, but he wouldn't guess her secret, not yet. Aunt Gabby had woven the web of deceit too well, sparing her the boundaries she would have faced if her innocence had been suspected, protecting her behind a curtain of mystery that had made her one of the most sought after women in London.

He was kissing her breasts again, laving the tips with his tongue, making them quiver and tighten. A faint whimper came from her throat and she tangled her fingers in his hair.

"I want you," he said. "God, Vermillion, I want you so much." He covered her mouth with his, kissed the side of her neck. When he started to repeat her name, she pressed her trembling fingers over his lips to stop the words.

"Not tonight, Caleb, please. Tonight, won't you please call me Lee?"

Something shifted in his features. She wasn't sure what it was, but when he kissed her again, the gentleness was gone. It was a fierce, claiming kiss, a wild, possessive kiss, and pleasure streaked through her, hot and wet and almost painful in its intensity. She clung to his shoulders as he eased her legs even farther apart and she felt his hardness begin to slide inside her.

She thought she would be afraid, but she felt no fear, only a sense of joy and an odd feeling of pressure that continued to expand, filling her with a powerful need to join with him. He pressed himself deeper, but as slick and wet as she was, he couldn't seem to fit.

For the first time, worry struck. Dear Lord, perhaps she was too small. Perhaps something was wrong with her. Perhaps she truly was different from the rest of the women.

"Caleb... ?"

"You're so damned tight." Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. "I didn't expect..." He kissed her hard. Kissed her deeply and thoroughly until she was wetter still and desperate for him to take her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth at the same instant he drove himself hard inside her.

Her body spasmed, tightened in pain, and a cry tore from her throat.

Caleb went utterly still. He looked down at her and she saw the confusion, saw the instant he realized what had just occurred. "It can't be. No." He shook his head. "It isn't possible."

Lee barely heard him with the little sobs creeping out and her eyes filling with tears.

"Goddammit! What the hell is going on?" He wrenched himself so violently out of her body, pain shot through her again.

She tried to struggle free of his heavy weight, but Caleb pinned her to the bed. He propped himself on his elbows and held on to her wrists. "You can't be a virgin. It's impossible. You're Vermillion. You've had countless lovers."

"I'm Lee," she whispered, hating herself for the mess she had made of this. "I won't be... won't be Vermillion till the night of my birthday."

Caleb stared down at her, his dark gaze turbulent. "I don't believe this." Swearing a silent oath, he released her wrists, rolled onto his side, and gathered her into his arms. "God, why didn't you tell me?"

Lee hung on to him, wishing she had done just that. "I was afraid to. I didn't know what you would think."

He clenched his jaw and said something she couldn't quite hear. "How badly did I hurt you?"

She loved the feel of his arms around her, felt grateful for them. She shook her head, tried to smile. "The pain is gone. I'm told it only hurts the first time."

He took a deep breath, slowly exhaled it. "I thought I knew why you came here tonight. Now I'm not so sure."

She rested her head on his chest, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heart. "You were right. I came for this. I wanted a man of my own choosing. I wish I had pleased you, Caleb, and I know that I did not."

He caught her chin with his fingers. "You pleased me. Just by coming here, you pleased me. By choosing me as that man. I only wish I'd known. Now that I do, I'm not sure-"

"Please, Caleb. I want this."

He sighed into the dimly lit room, raked his damp hair back from his forehead. "We'll just have to take things slower. I'll make it good for you, Lee, I promise." Bending his head, Caleb leaned over and very softly settled his mouth over hers. It was another of his slow, languid, unhurried kisses and the heat he had stirred before flamed up and licked through her limbs.

He touched her as he had before, his fingers sliding inside her, stretching her and preparing her to accept him. He didn't stop until she was writhing on the bed, flushed with desire, and begging him to take her. He slid into her more easily this time, filling her completely, yet the pain never surfaced, only the craving, the wild, uncontrollable yearning.

Beneath him on the narrow bed, her restlessness grew and her body shifted against the heavy fullness inside her. Unconsciously, her back arched upward, thrusting her breasts into his chest. She pressed her mouth against his skin, felt the heat, tasted the slick, damp, saltiness of it, circled his flat copper nipple with her tongue, and heard him groan.

He went still for a moment, trying to hold himself in check, working to regain his control. Then he started moving again, easing himself out, then driving deep once more. Slow and easy, muscles straining, drawing out the pleasure. His movements grew faster, his hips flexing, driving him deeper still. The rhythm increased, enveloped her, the heavy thrust and drag, the fullness, the pressure against her womb, the heat and the need and the overwhelming sense of urgency.

Then her body suddenly tightened and a wave of pleasure tore through her. Little shivers rushed over her skin. Tiny pinpricks of light seemed to burst behind her eyes. Her insides tingled and she cried out Caleb's name.

"That's right, love. Let yourself go."

She heard a roaring in her ears like the wind through the trees and her body seemed to fly apart. "Caleb!" She bit down on her lip as pleasure speared through her, sweeter than anything she could have imagined. She clung to Caleb's neck as he pounded into her, taking her hard, unable to stop himself. An instant later, his body went rigid, his muscles tightening. He tried to withdraw, but she wasn't ready for that and she gripped his hips, felt the wetness of his seed spilling inside her. His head fell back and a low guttural groan filled the quiet of the room.

For long moments, neither of them spoke. Eventually their heartbeats slowed and Caleb shifted a little on the mattress, then lay down on the blanket beside her, fitting her back to his chest spoon-fashion in the narrow bed.

He toyed with a lock of her hair. "I can't believe it. You were a virgin." He smoothed the strand between his thumb and forefinger. "In God's name, why did you pretend to be something you were not?"

Lee sighed into the darkness. "It's hard to explain, Caleb." She turned onto her back so that she could look up at him, into the dark eyes he fixed on her face. "I told you once before-I'm a Durant. It's my destiny to follow in the footsteps of my grandmother and aunt."

In the moonlight, she saw a muscle tighten along his jaw. "You were a virgin," he stubbornly repeated. "Why would you choose that sort of life?"

Lee turned toward him, wound her arms around his neck. "Please... I don't want to talk about this now." She pulled his head down and gave him a feather-soft kiss. "You want me," she whispered. "I can feel how hard you are."

"I get hard every time I look at you. If you hadn't been so innocent you would have figured that out long before this."

She flushed but didn't look away. "My birthday isn't that far off. We won't have much time together. I want you to make love to me again."

Several emotions flickered in his eyes, but the heat was clear to see. He kissed her deeply, then a corner of his mouth edged up. "I suppose, since you're my employer, I'm compelled to do as you say."

Lee closed her eyes as he came up over her, filling her again. Very slowly, he started to move inside her. Clinging to the muscles across his shoulders, she let him sweep her into the world of pleasure that he had shown her before.

She didn't linger when they finished this time, just got up from the narrow mattress, walked over and silently began to pull on her clothes. She could feel Caleb's eyes on her, watching her from the bed.

"Make me understand, Lee." His deep voice drifted across the small, low-ceilinged room. "Tell me why you would sacrifice your life, your future, as you are planning to do."