Emily had risen early—truly, she had simply not been able to sleep after her encounter with Lord Brougham the night before—but it was late afternoon now, and she had yet to see her brother. Arthur had hidden away in his study all day, ostensibly reviewing the ledgers with his man of affairs. It was more likely he was tending an aching head while counting up his vowels from the previous night’s gambling. Tucked away in her room, she was organizing her spoils to sell when the tap-tap-tap of the front door knocker echoed throughout the house.

With an economy of motion, she wrapped up her ill-gotten gains and hid them back into the far corner of her bottom drawer, along with the few trousseau items she’d placed there once upon a time.

While she was not expecting any visitors, they were in principle at home to callers, so she smoothed her skirts and checked her hair for loose strands in case someone had come to call.

Mrs. Peppers knocked on her door a few moments later. “My lady, you have a—um, you have a gentleman caller.”

“I do?” She felt as surprised as her housekeeper sounded.

“Indeed, my lady. He’s downstairs with a posy and everything.” The kind older woman’s rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes belied her pleasure at such an event. “Why, your mama would be so excited. Bless her soul.”

Yes, her mother would have been excited, except Emily very much doubted this call would have been made if her mother was still alive. There was only one man it could be.

“Please tell Lord Brougham I shall be down directly, and let Aunt Hortense know we have a visitor.”

“Very good, my lady.” Mrs. Peppers left with a spring in her step.

Emily, on the other hand, drew a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. Chances were Arthur would never notice either Cooper’s visits or her absences. And, in the end, she would have an opportunity to experience a part of life she had long thought lost to her. It was not as though he was going to ravish her in the front drawing room. She had nothing to be nervous about. With that reminder firmly in her head, she glided downstairs.

In the least shabby of all the public rooms, she found Cooper staring out a window, alone. It would seem her great-aunt was either napping or slow to arrive. Either option might be a boon, both considering Lord Brougham likely had the contract with him, and that great-aunt Hortense had a disconcerting tendency to say the most inappropriate things.

At the sound of her entrance, Cooper turned, a devastatingly genuine look of pleasure on his face. “Lady Emmaline, it is lovely to see you again.”

“Good day, Lord Brougham.” She stopped and curtsied before him. “You are looking handsome today.” She hoped she sounded cordial, because frankly, he’d taken her breath away when he turned. His blond hair glinted like gold in the sunlight, and the Corbeau green of his frock coat made his brown eyes appear even richer.

“Thank you, but please, Lady Emmaline. We should dispense with such formalities. My friends call me Cooper, or you may call me Robert.” He kissed her hand.

Emily sucked in her breath. Robert? She could never call him by his given name. It was far too intimate.

“Cooper shall do nicely, I think. Please call me Emily.”

Her cheeks warmed even as she reminded herself the man was a means to an end. She needed him to stay quiet, and if she got to indulge in a bit of personal exploration as well, then all the better.

“It suits you. Now, as promised, I come bearing gifts.” He held the flowers out to her.

Hands clasped together, she froze. “As I recall, we discussed that there would be no gifts,” she said, teeth gritted.

“We did. But as I stated at the time, the first visit does not count as the contract has not been signed.” He pressed the flowers on her, looking as pleased as a boy who’d found the cookie jar.

She shot him a speaking glare as Aunt Hortense trundled into the room. How had she not caught such a specious argument at the time? Perhaps negotiating while still under the influence of his rather heady kisses was not the best policy? With a nod to him, she accepted the flowers and made a note that there would be no further negotiations under such circumstances.

“Don’t mind me. Keep on about your visit. It’s not as though the girl has so many male callers. Too much longer, and the bloom will be off her fern.”

Aunt Hortense propped herself up in the far corner and promptly dozed off, her ear trumpet in hand.

Emily stared at her aunt in mortification and confusion—a fairly regular occurrence with the elderly woman. She looked back at Cooper and found both his brows raised.

He cleared his throat. “I had not realized ferns lost their bloom so easily.”

She stifled a laugh as she glared at her caller.

Undeterred by their interruption, he next produced a box of chocolates.

She sighed. “How many more gifts did you bring?”

Humor took his countenance from dazzling to breathtaking. “All of them.”

“All of what?” Now she was quite confused.

“All the gifts I would have given you over the course of our visits. Since I was only permitted this one opportunity to lavish you with tokens, I did my best to cover everything.” He walked to the drawing room door and opened it. “Come, Mrs. Peppers, I told you I would convince her to accept all the gifts.”

Her housekeeper walked in, beaming from ear to ear as she led a procession of men and women carrying bouquets, chocolates, books, and even a few boxes she was certain came from a modiste.

“Cooper, this is outside of enough. I cannot possibly accept all these gifts from you.” She walked over to the plain boxes with simple ribbons around them. Opening one, she held up a fetching bonnet with feathers and ribbons in the first stare of fashion. She had never owned such a luxurious head cover. “And this? This is practically a declaration of our betrothal. No other man would be permitted such leeway.”

Her great-aunt snuffled and snorted in her sleep, drawing their attention for a moment, but then the frail woman settled back into a deep snooze.

“I’m sorry, but you forced my hand. If you will not accept everything, then give it away, for I shall not accept any of it back.” He stared her down as the servants departed the room. Once they were alone again, he stepped closer to her. “Do I need to convince you to accept all my gifts?”

Had it grown warm in the house? She tugged at the high collar of her day dress. “I— Cooper, I simply can’t—”

Closing the last bit of distance between them until her skirts wrapped around his boots, he said, “I see I must convince you.” And then he kissed her.

Emily’s head spun as his arms circled her and pressed her closer to his chest. The man plundered her mouth, stealing her breath and all rational thought. Her body’s desires took over, urging her to take what he offered, throw caution to the wind, and simply—feel.

With a soft, breathy moan, she capitulated. Melting into his body, she stopped fighting the myriad sensations the man evoked with his touch, his spicy, woodsy scent, and the earthy taste on his lips and tongue. Had he taken a drink before coming to shore up his nerves? How intriguing to think she might cause such a confident—some would say too confident—man to need some sort of artificial bolstering.

As she reveled in his kiss, her body came alive. Tingles danced over her skin, a feather-light touch that made her heart race, while her nipples pebbled to hard nubs that chafed against her linens and corset. And between her thighs, she recognized a dampness that spoke far too plainly of her desire for the man holding her.

Slowly, he pulled back from the kiss, dropping nibbles along her jaw that shot little trills of pleasure over her form. Once he was looking her in the eyes, his hands at her shoulders as a steadying influence, he smiled. “Please, take the gifts as a token of my friendship and affection for you.”

Oh, how she wanted to say yes, but propriety dictated she say no. Casting another glance in the direction of her still-sleeping chaperone, she bit her lip. Of course, ignoring propriety had become such a routine part of her life, she considered doing it once more. Gifts were few and far between in her life, let alone anything intended solely for her. She eyed the tip of a teal feather poking from the hat box and bit her lip in indecision. If nothing else, she could pawn the items and put the money toward her brother’s debt. Decision made, she nodded at Cooper. “Very well, I shall accept your highly inappropriate gifts. But the bargain remains. No further trinkets.”

“Agreed.” The man beamed as though she’d granted him his fondest wish. “Now, on to other business. Please, take a seat.” He ushered her over to the settee. Once she sat, he took the cushion next to hers and opened the folio sitting on the drawing room table. Lowering his voice to ensure their witness remained as she was—asleep—Cooper continued. “This is the standard contract for The Market, with a few changes per our agreed-upon terms. Please read through it carefully to be certain everything is as you remember agreeing to.”

Emily perused the one-page contract, taking careful note to ensure the stipulations were in accordance with her memory. Satisfied, she nodded and nudged the folio back toward him. “It all looks in order.”

“Good. Did you also notice that either one of us may break the contract with forty-eight hours’ notice in writing?” He reached into his coat pocket and produced a fountain pen.

“I did notice that line. I am fine with the addition.” She nodded, all business even as her pulse thrummed wildly beneath her skin. The rush of the forbidden made her jittery with excitement.

“Very good.” He leaned over and signed his name with a flourish to both copies of the agreement. Next, she took the pen and followed suit. Once she was done, he handed her a copy. “For you, my lady.”

“Thank you.” She set the document aside and folded her hands in her lap. For an awkward moment, she wondered if he might suddenly leap upon her person, but then she reminded herself that Cooper was a gentleman, and they had both signed the contract.

Cooper shifted on the seat next to Emily, who seemed terribly uncomfortable now that the contract had been signed. Deciding he needed to get her past this awkwardness, he angled his body toward her and asked the one question he knew would get her past whatever reticence had settled in. “Tell me again why marriage is impossible?”

She huffed in a most unladylike manner. “I have already explained this.”

He worked very hard to keep a straight face. “Have you? I don’t recall having that conversation.”

“You remember it very well. You had just pulled a necklace from my bosom,” she hissed at him.

Determined to have a bit of fun, he drew his brows together. “Truly? I should think I would remember that.”

Realization caused her mouth to pinch. “Do not provoke me. I am no simpering miss to be cowed by such behavior. I am not wifely material for the same reasons your ridiculous ploy to rile me shall fail.”

He could see her struggle for composure until a calmness fell over her features.

“I am too independent to make a good wife.”

Giving in, he grinned unrepentantly, “Ah, yes. I do remember you mentioning such a notion.”

“It is no mere notion, as you put it. It is fact. No man wants a thief for a wife.” Her gaze softened and grew a bit damp as she struggled with the truth as she knew it.

For a moment, he considered pulling her into his arms and comforting her. But he knew it would only reinforce her belief that he saw her as weak. The truth was he’d never met such a strong woman. She was fierce and fiery, determined to come out ahead in a way that stroked his most dominant instincts to life. He wanted to protect her, help her. Not because she was weak, but because he could make her life better. Safer, even.

Frustration and a little bitterness slipped through his determination to win her. “Chin up, Emily. I’m sure you’ll find some poor fool to marry who wouldn’t notice a little theft here and there.”

“Do stop your irksome prattle. If you are going to stay, we should have tea and speak of civilized things.” She cast a glance at the pile of gifts, and then at her great-aunt.

“Perhaps I should leave you to sort through your new things.” He turned his knees so he faced her. Despite hating the need to end their visit, he dared not overstay his welcome. Gaining her trust was a key part of his grand plan to convince her to marry him.

To his surprise, she offered a genuine smile. “You should stay and see me enjoy your gifts. I’ll have Mrs. Peppers bring a tea tray.”

“Never say I passed an opportunity to take tea with a beautiful woman.” He settled back on the sofa and waited for her to rise and approach the boxes.

She did stand, but first, she rang for her housekeeper and ordered their repast. Then she approached the gifts. “The hat is just lovely. You have excellent taste.”

“I’m glad you think so. Now open the rest so I may enjoy your enthusiastic delight.”

He settled back and took in the engaging sight of Emily amidst her presents. In general, she had been nothing like what he’d expected. Recalling his foolish belief that she’d be a docile spinster, he snorted to himself. Now he was looking forward to unleashing the hellion in his bed.