She was liking this less and less. "So you'll just stop by whenever you get the urge? Is that how it works?"

Caleb drew rein on the black. "Actually, that's exactly how it works. Look, Lee, this was your idea, remember? You didn't have to agree to any of this. You could have made a different decision."

Her chin went up. "Maybe I should have."

Caleb's jaw hardened. His gloved hands tightened on the reins. "And maybe I ought to drag you down from that horse and show you exactly why you didn't." He was scowling, looking like he meant every word.

The thought of Caleb hauling her down, shoving up her riding skirt, and making love to her in the middle of the road left her slightly breathless. Setting her heels to the sides of her horse, she started forward before she goaded him into actually going through with it.

"I made a choice," she said to him over her shoulder. "I don't plan to go back on my word."

Caleb made no comment. He knew how independent she was. He must have realized how difficult it was for her to put herself completely in a man's hands for the first time in her life.

It was nearly dawn by the time they reached London and Caleb procured a suite of rooms for her as Mrs. Durant at the Hotel Purley in Wilton Street.

Lee found the entire scene oddly depressing. Perhaps her dark mood was the reason Caleb accompanied her up to the suite but decided not to stay, simply promised to return later that afternoon, after she'd had time to settle in and catch a few precious hours of sleep.

Staring down at the street below the window, Lee watched him mount the black and ride off down the lane, her emotions in turmoil. Part of her wanted to call him back, to seduce him into making love to her. Another part was glad he was leaving. She needed time to collect herself, to think about the decision she had made and what it meant for her future.

For a while she padded around the suite, trailing her fingers over the rosewood furniture, examining a small silver box on the hearth, sitting for a while on the dark green velvet sofa. The bedchamber was large and airy, with a four-poster bed enclosed by elegant sea-green bed hangings that matched the draperies at the window.

Changing out of her riding habit into a night rail, she climbed into bed, but as tired and depressed as she was, she still couldn't fall asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned, finally gave up and returned to the sitting room. Thinking of Caleb's upcoming visit that afternoon cheered her a little-until she received a note telling her he had been summoned by his superiors to a meeting in Whitehall. He hoped, the note said, to see her that evening but he wasn't certain when.

For the first time, Lee began to understand the true nature of being a mistress.

More depressed than ever, she returned to bed late in the afternoon. She fell asleep thinking about Caleb and dreamed of him in bed with a sophisticated courtesan who looked remarkably like Vermillion.

"Congratulations, Captain Tanner. You and Major Sutton are to be commended on the excellent job you did in stopping the leak at Parklands."

"Thank you, Colonel." Caleb stood across the battered desk where his silver-haired superior sat working. "I only wish we had been able to prevent the death of Marie LeCroix and catch the man masterminding the ring. As long as he is free, the threat to England remains."

"I cannot disagree. However, that is no longer your concern."

"Colonel?"

"Your part in the investigation, Captain, has come to an end. You were chosen for the assignment because we needed a man who knew the business of horse racing. As a friend of your father's, General Wellesley was aware of your expertise. He was also acquainted with your very impressive service record. Which is why he has requested you remain under his command as a member of his specialist troops."

The colonel smiled. "The general has ordered me to extend your stay for two additional weeks so that you may visit your family. After that time you are ordered to return to Spain, where you will report directly to the general himself."

Two weeks. That was all the time he had with Lee. He should have been elated, overjoyed by Wellesley's continued interest, which practically insured future promotions and the chance for a brilliant career.

Instead, he felt sick to his stomach.

"Thank you, Colonel. That's extremely good news. However, I was wondering if it might be possible for me to remain in London until the investigation is concluded. As you know, my knowledge of the case is extensive. I feel I might be more valuable here than-"

"I'm sorry. I understand you may have come to feel personally involved in this, but orders are orders." The colonel came to his feet behind the desk. "Do not despair, Captain Tanner. Continue as you have been, and you will go far in this army."

Caleb forced himself to smile. "I hope so, sir."

"Enjoy your brief time off. Give my best to your father and at the end of your leave, report back here to me. I'll have transport arranged for your return to Spain and subsequent reunion with Wellesley. Till that time, you are dismissed, Captain Tanner."

Caleb made a smart salute, left the office, and returned to his father's Mayfair town house. He would be leaving London far sooner than he had expected. He had hoped to have more time with Lee, time to consider his options. Now he knew that wasn't going to happen.

As he stepped inside the imposing brick residence in Berkeley Square, crossed the entry and headed down the hall, the house felt cold and empty as it never had before. When he reached the study, he walked over to a sideboard and poured himself a drink. Carrying the brandy glass over to the desk, he sank into the deep leather chair, filled with an unexpected despair.

The question he had pondered all afternoon returned with relentless force. What to do about Lee?

Lee slept for a while, then spent the balance of the day wandering around the suite waiting for Caleb. The later it got, the more her irritation grew. She wasn't the sort to sit there doing nothing, at the beck and call of her lover.

Surely Aunt Gabby hadn't done that. Had she?

Surely Caleb didn't expect her to. Did he?

Then again, she wasn't sure what Caleb expected. She was Vermillion Durant. It was Vermillion who had agreed to become his mistress. The notion bothered her more than it should have.

It was evening and still she hadn't heard from him. The longer she waited, the more her agitation swelled. By the time his second note arrived, telling her he wouldn't be there till nearly midnight, she was furious.

He wanted a mistress? Well, fine-she would give him one!

Storming into the bedchamber, she dragged out the satchel she had brought with her from Parklands. There wasn't much inside, but among the few items was the sheer, lavender silk nightgown her aunt had given her for her birthday. The sleeveless gown had a vee of lavender lace in front that ran clear to her navel. Lee rang for a chambermaid, who brought her scissors, thread, and a needle; cut out the lace; then cut off the ankle-length sweep of silk and hemmed it up. When she put it on, it exposed all but her nipples and barely covered the cheeks of her bottom.

Perfect.

She hadn't brought any face paint. The rice powder she could do without, but the kohl... In a moment of inspiration, she knelt in front of the hearth and swept a bit of coal dust into an empty glass. Carrying it over to the dresser, she sat down in front of the mirror and went to work, darkening the burnished color of her lashes, feathering the black dust carefully around her eyes. Though it made them look huge and blue-green, she still didn't look enough like Vermillion.

What to do... ?

A second inspiration struck. Tugging on the bell cord to ring for a servant, she ordered a bowl of fresh berries brought up from the kitchen. They were bright red and delicious, she discovered as she dipped them, one by one, into a little silver bowl of clotted cream and popped them into her mouth.

It was the juice she wanted and she found more than enough in the bottom of the bowl. As soon as she finished the fruit, she used the juice to darken her lips then watered it a little and used it to color her cheeks. Her bravado growing by the moment, she dabbed the last of the juice onto each of her nipples, rouging them as she knew a number of Cyprians often did.

Satisfied at last, she ran a brush through her hair, fanning the dark red curls out around her shoulders. Carefully surveying her handiwork, she grinned at the wild, seductive creature staring back at her in the mirror.

Caleb wanted a mistress. He was going to get one!

It was late, nearly midnight, before she heard the tread of his boots on the stairs. She was dressed and ready, pacing the floor in wait for him. At the light knock on the door, she took a steadying breath and pasted on her practiced smile. Turning the handle on the door, she jerked it open and invited him in.

He wasn't wearing his uniform, she saw, just a pair of fawn-colored breeches and a dark brown broadcloth tailcoat. His eyes briefly touched hers where she stood in the open doorway and for an instant he smiled. Then his gaze took in her kohl-darkened eyes, rouged lips and cheeks, and the smile disappeared.

Caleb frowned. "What the hell is this?"

Her lips curved even more. "Welcome home, darling. There's cold meat and cheese on the table beside the hearth. There's a nice claret to go with it, and brandy, of course. Why don't you sit down and relax? I'll fix you a plate and pour you a drink."

She turned to walk away, giving him a glimpse of her bottom. She hadn't got more than a couple of steps when Caleb caught her arm and spun her around to face him.

"Whatever game you're playing, you may end it right now. I don't think it is the least bit funny."

She battered her long, sooty lashes. "Why, darling, whatever do you mean? I am hardly playing a game. You are paying for this room, are you not? For the food we're about to eat, for the... entertainment afterward. I merely want to make certain you get your money's worth."

Caleb caught the tops of her arms and hauled her closer. "Stop it. Stop this right now." He shook her, not gently. "This whole thing was your idea, not mine. I never expected you to behave like a trollop. We both know you aren't one and you never have been."

Her smiled slipped a little. "But I will be, won't I, Caleb? After you're gone? And you did pledge to my aunt you would teach me all I need to know to continue in the role I will be playing."

His eyes darkened to nearly black. "I went to your aunt because I was hoping she might help me persuade you. I would have promised her anything in order to have you." The edge of his mouth barely curved. "But I have always been a man of my word. If it's a lesson you want, sweeting, I'll be more than happy to oblige."

Jerking her hard against him, Caleb kissed her. There was none of the gentleness, none of the care he'd shown her before. It was a fierce, demanding kiss, the kind a man claimed from the mistress he had bought and paid for.

And yet she felt the heat stirring to life inside her, burning between them, scorching like a fire in her blood.

She trembled, tried to draw away, but Caleb wouldn't have it. Instead he slid the gown off her shoulders, paused for an instant at the sight of her berry-stained nipples, then lowered his head and took the crest of one into his mouth. He laved the tip, suckled and tasted, then turned to her other breast and began to feast again. Each tug sent liquid fire pouring through her, drew damp heat into her core.

Her knees trembled. She tangled her fingers in his thick brown hair and fought to stay on her feet.

Caleb raised his head and the edges of his lips barely curved. "You want me to show you what a man expects from his mistress?"

She had pushed him too far. She could see it in the muscle flexing in his cheek, the hard set of his jaw. She had meant to goad him, but now he seemed like another man entirely and she was a little afraid.

She swallowed. "That is... that is what I am, is it not?"

Caleb didn't answer. Instead, he swept her up in his arms and strode into the bedchamber, tossed her down in the middle of the bed and began to unbutton his shirt.

He tugged it off and tossed it away, started on the buttons at the front of his breeches. "Come here."

A tremor of unease ran through her. "You're angry. Perhaps we should-"

"I said come here. Now."

She eased across the bed to where he stood with his legs slightly splayed, his breeches unbuttoned and hanging open, riding low on his hips. "Turn around and get up on your hands and knees."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me. Do it."

Her heart began to thunder. She did as he commanded, her hair swinging forward as she looked at him over her shoulder.

Caleb moved behind her. Reaching down, he slid the slick lavender silk up over her bottom and ran his hands over her hips. The anger was gone from his face and instead, she caught a glimpse of hunger. He didn't hurry, as she thought he would, just took his time, leaning down to kiss the back of her neck, biting an earlobe, pressing soft, moist kisses against her shoulders. All the while, his hands kept moving, tracing patterns, skimming over her flesh, sliding between the globes of her bottom. He slid his fingers inside and began to stroke her and her whole body infused with heat.

She was wet. Unbearably hot and wet. He stroked her until her hips arched, until she whimpered his name.

He moved closer. She could feel the heat of his bare skin, the strength of his arousal pressing against her bottom. Then he guided himself into her passage, gripped her hips, and thrust himself deeply inside.

She could feel the heat of him, the delicious fullness, and then he started to move. Long, determined strokes shook her, sent ripples of fire burning out through her skin. Deep, penetrating strokes sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. Gripping her hips, he held her immobile, pounding into her, impaling her as deeply as he could. Lee moaned at the sweet sensations sweeping through her, thick saturating waves that seeped out from her core and trembled over her flesh. Her body tightened around him and she heard him groan.

Caleb didn't slow until she reached release and even then he went on until she came again. Finally, he allowed his own climax to come, his big hands tightening around her hips, his body going rigid. Bare-chested, still wearing his breeches, he lay down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. As she curled against him, she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his smooth, sun-darkened skin.

"You taste like berries," he said softly, his mouth just inches from her ear. "Even your nipples. God, Lee."

She started to smile. He had called her Lee, not Vermillion. Lee. The way he had before.

He turned onto his side, traced a finger along her cheek. "You don't have to be Vermillion, love. Not ever again. I never wanted Vermillion-I've told you that from the start. It's you I want, Lee. It's always been you."

Something burned behind her eyes and her lips trembled.

"You're here because you chose to be. You'll stay for that reason or not at all. You're no man's harlot and especially not mine."

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I'm sorry, Caleb. I've just... it's all been so confusing."

"It's all right, love. I'm a little confused myself."

He lifted a lock of her hair, toyed with it, smoothed it between his fingers. "Tomorrow we're going shopping. I want you to pick out a completely new wardrobe-the kind of dresses you'd like to wear, not something your aunt has convinced you to wear." He grinned as he looked down at the flimsy lavender gown that no longer even covered her breasts. "Though I can't fault your choice of night clothes."

She laughed. It felt incredibly good. And she couldn't find fault with the lesson she had received, since she had baited him into it. In truth, she could hardly wait for the next one.

"I think I should like that sort of shopping, but I insist on paying for what I purchase."

He cast her a look, started to argue, closed his mouth and sighed. "Fine, if it makes you happy, you can pay."

At the very least, it would help her maintain a little of her treasured independence. But the thing that most made her happy was Caleb. Dear Lord, she loved him a little more every day.

It was a terrifying thought.

He bent his head and nuzzled her shoulder, traced the star-shaped birthmark the sleeveless nightgown could not hide, bent and pressed his mouth to the spot. "I've seen a mark like this before. I've been trying to remember where it was."

Lee turned away, an uneasy feeling crawling into her stomach. She knew who carried a mark like this. Her mother had told her and so had her aunt.

"It'll come to me, sooner or later."

Lee hoped he never recalled, but even if he did, surely the mark he had seen had nothing to do with her.

"You must be tired," she said, changing the subject. "Why don't you finish undressing so you can get some sleep?"

His mouth curved roguishly. "I'm not tired, woman-I'm hungry. I think I'd like a little dessert and I know exactly the thing." Bending his head to her breast, he whispered, "Some fresh berries would exactly suit my appetite."

It took Caleb three more days to remember where he had seen a birthmark the same shape as the one Lee carried on her shoulder. The dormitory at Oxford. The rusty-pink, star-shaped image rode in the exact same location on the shoulder, but the bearer of the mark hadn't been a woman. It had been a young student named Bronson Montague, eldest son of the Marquess of Kinleigh, who boarded in the room next to his.

Now that Caleb remembered seeing the mark on Bronson's shoulder, the memory continued to nag him. Could Lee be related to Montague in some way? Bronson was older, the same age as Caleb. He wondered if Lee knew anything about him.

It was the question foremost on his mind as he climbed the stairs to her suite at the Hotel Purley. He hadn't looked for any other place. He wouldn't be in London that much longer, though he still hadn't told Lee how soon he would be leaving.

He was acting as her lady's maid at present, enjoying the role more than he would have thought. He wanted her all to himself. He didn't want to spoil the brief time they had left together. Or perhaps he was simply trying to avoid the truth himself.

Whatever the reason, the days were slipping away, and Caleb was determined that when he left London, Lee Durant would be facing a better sort of life than she was living now.

Thinking about her brought a faint smile to his face. Yesterday they had finished the last of their shopping, more fun than he had expected since Lee was so excited about everything she bought-an amazing assortment of gowns, walking dresses, morning dresses, riding habits, bonnets, gloves, mantuas, cloaks, pelisses, boots and slippers.

"I never liked shopping before," she told him. "It's different when you're buying things for yourself. Before I was buying clothes for Vermillion."

Something about the way she said the name gave his heart a little pang. It was clear she was Lee now, a new and different person, even more vibrant than the independent young woman he had first discovered in the stable. And even more enticing.