The late afternoon sun shined down on Emily as she walked smartly along Brewer Street. For the occasion, she had donned her most worn and repaired gown and shoes. Borrowing one of the maid’s straw bonnets, she had slipped from the house with a basket for marketing. As she drew closer to her destination, her heart raced and her palms grew sweaty.

It reminded her of how she had felt during her first encounter with Cooper—her first time with any man. To her great surprise, he had first brought her to orgasm with his mouth, and then impaled her with his rather fine cock. Certainly, it had hurt with his first intrusion, but he had quickly showed her how much pleasure there was to be had with each other. And every time she’d interacted with him since then, he had surprised her with some new arousing experience.

However, today her nervousness had nothing to do with Cooper and everything to do with the jewels she carried in her reticule. Despite knowing the shop owner cared little about the origins of her goods, wariness—or perhaps guilt—had her questioning the intelligence of conducting her own business. But, of course, she had no one else who could handle such a transaction on her behalf. With a fortitude born of desperation, she turned the corner onto Bridle Lane and sought out the shop with owners of somewhat questionable ethics.

The street—really more of an alley—was quite narrow and practically empty. Head up as she took in her surroundings, she found the discreet entrance to Fletcher & Sons. Beneath the bold lettering was written: Pawn brokers for all your needs.

With a deep breath, she opened the door and approached the counter along the back portion of the shop. The counter was divided into small cubbyholes to protect the client’s dignity, for which Emily was grateful.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. How may I assist you?” A man, Mr. Fletcher, she assumed, appeared before her booth, bearing a smile that failed to reach his eyes.

“I have some items I must pawn.” She reached into her basket and pulled out her stash of stolen jewelry. Along with the necklace Cooper had once pulled free of her breasts, there was a bracelet, a number of pairs of earbobs, and more rings than she could fit on her ten fingers.

The broker’s eyes suddenly lit up as he assessed her wares. He picked up one of the rings and produced a small magnification lens to inspect the item closer. With a grunt, he set the ring down and picked up another. This continued as he looked at each piece on the counter. All the while, she resisted the urge to fist her hands in her skirts.

Once he had examined each piece, he looked back at her, eyeing her dress and the obviously repaired spots. “How much are you seeking for the baubles?”

Emily’s gaze narrowed. “Baubles? Each piece is valuable in its own right. Do not think to undercut their worth, Mr. Fletcher.”

The man grunted again. “How much do you need?”

“Three thousand pounds.” She tried to breathe after speaking such a sum. Still only part of what her brother owed, but a start if she could get as much.

The man snorted. “Two thousand.”

“That will not do, Mr. Fletcher.” She stood straighter and assumed the look and tone she used with recalcitrant servants. “Twenty-eight hundred.”

“Twenty-five hundred and not a bit more.” He growled the words more than spoke them.

Disappointed she could not get more but unwilling to bicker further, she accepted his offer. “Agreed. And you will hold the items for a year?”

He shoved a handwritten ticket across the counter and pointed to the terms of pawn posted on the wall behind him. “That’s the policy. I’ll just be a moment.”

And then he disappeared into the back room for a few moments. When he returned, he handed her the stack of notes and glanced around the front of his shop. “Do you not have a man to escort you home?”

Panic flared as she grappled for a plausible answer. “The drunken lout wouldn’t do me a bit of good if he were here.”

“’Tis a sad state of affairs when a woman cannot count on her menfolk. I shall have one of my boys walk you home,” Mr. Fletcher offered.

“Not at all. I’ll just be on my way. But thank you.”

And then she quickly walked out of the shop and down the lane until she could slip back into the busier foot traffic on Brewer. Once she was safely lost among the crowds, she headed back toward home.

* * *

Dress changed after her foray to the pawnbroker, she felt much more herself as she settled in the front salon. Despite a few setbacks as a jewel thief, she had managed to collect over half of what Arthur owed in gambling debts. But she couldn’t deny she was quickly running out of time. Perhaps paying Mr. Lucifer a visit and offering a substantial payment might convince him to give her more time? It was certainly worth the effort to try.

“Lady Emmaline, Lord Brougham to see you,” Mrs. Peppers announced with so much pomp and circumstance, Emily wanted to chuckle.

Cooper strode into the room, hands tucked behind his back, and stopped in the middle of the sitting area. Her housekeeper quickly departed, leaving the two of them alone—ostensibly to go in search of Aunt Hortense, though Emily knew she’d only just laid down for her nap.

As soon as her footsteps faded into the depths of the house, Cooper started moving slowly toward where she sat on a settee. “You have been a rather busy woman today.”

Curious, a statement more than a question.

“I believe all ladies are taught to stay busy. Idle hands and all that.”

“Yes, but I am not sure when they came up with that they anticipated a woman such as yourself.” He stopped just in front of where she sat. “In fact, I would guess they never imagined a lady thief at all when that was first conceived.”

“Perhaps not.” She firmed her chin and waited. It was obvious what this conversation was to be about. “Might I remind you, Cooper, we have an agreement in place.”

He held up the newspaper he had clutched and spread it out so the headline was readable. PRINCE VISITS UNITED STATES!

“Oh, that’s lovely. I hope he was well received.” Emily smiled intently, knowing full well that was not the part that had drawn his concern.

“Not the bloody headline. Look at the lower right corner.” His face had turned a rather alarming shade of red, and a very large vein appeared to pulse on the side of his head.

She leaned forward and blinked a few times as she perused the small bit just above the fold of the paper. The story described a bold fellow who had taken to robbing the homes of London’s elite during their fêtes. That—much smaller—headline read: THE WALTZING THIEF STRIKES AGAIN!

She leaned back and folded her hands in her lap. “I am well aware the Waltzing Thief was recently in action.”

He leaned down and practically hissed at her. “When will you cease these ridiculously risky activities?”

Feeling mulish, she pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “I never agreed to stop. In fact, I stipulated that what I did outside of our arrangement was my business.”

Cooper stared at her for a few heartbeats and then cursed as he stepped back. “Why do you insist on doing this? You are going to get yourself killed!”

“I shall do no such thing.”

As though she was so inept as to get caught. Besides, she had to do it, and she couldn’t get caught. If she either quit or was caught before she had the money to pay off Lucifer, her brother was as good as dead.

Cooper’s face stilled as he stood across the room from her. Thunderclouds seemed to roll into the room as his jaw grew rigid and his brown eyes turned nearly black. “I know you won’t, because I forbid you to continue. You will cease this insanity at once.”

Fury pushed Emily from her seat. “Forbid?” she asked softly as she crossed the room. “You forbid me to steal?”

Doubt flashed through his gaze. “Indeed. Someone must, as it seems your brother is incapable of acting as your guardian.”

Too angry to snort at the notion of Arthur acting as her guardian, she focused on her next breath. Utter nonsense. “Cooper, I suggest you leave this instant, while I still consider our arrangement intact—despite your very obvious impingement of the terms we both agreed to. I shall not be treated like some green chit barely out of the schoolroom. I am a grown woman who knows her own mind. And at this moment, I am quite keen on the notion of planting you a facer.”

The man whom she normally found so attractive it was all she could do to control her urges around him had driven her to a rather indecorous threat of violence. Not at all a ladylike notion, yet a very appropriate one for the moment.

He narrowed his gaze at her before he had the gall to toss the paper on a nearby table. Then he stepped into her person, hauled her into his arms, and captured her lips with his.

She wanted to be furious at him, and still was if she were honest, but apparently, that did nothing to abate her body’s response to his touch. Arms clamped tightly around her, he left her no place to retreat, and she was quick to acknowledge that she did not wish for one.

As their tongues dueled, slipping and sliding against each other, she allowed her anger to be tempered by the headiness of his kiss. Her body throbbed with the need to feel him, to take him within and lead the way to a pleasure she had not known before his presence in her life.

Setting her away from him as abruptly as he had swooped in to kiss her, he dragged a ragged breath into his lungs and stared at her with wild eyes. For a moment, she was unsure what he would do, but then without a further word, he spun around leaving her standing there alone, lips tingling from such a passionate embrace.

* * *

Cooper sat in White’s and stared at the fire crackling merrily as he nursed a whisky.

“I’ve found him.” Linc’s boisterous voice broke through Cooper’s line of thought as his friends pulled up chairs around him. The rain had started just after he’d stepped into the all-male enclave, and it had not let up since. As a result, his damp friends crowded around the fireplace.

Flint, Linc, and Wolf each eyed him in turn. He could see the question in their gazes as they warmed themselves. Once their hands had dried, he poured them each a glass of whisky from the bottle at his left. The service at White’s was impeccable, so there had been no need to request the glasses required.

After a few moments of companionable silence, during which Cooper considered what he was going to ask of his friends, he broke the peace. “I need your help with…a situation.”

Flint responded first. “Ask away. Whatever it is, consider it done.”

Linc and Wolf both nodded in agreement.

“I shall require your discretion in this matter.” He paused. Was he going too far? His heart lurched at the notion of Emily being caught in the process of robbing someone. “I have taken a marked interest in Lady Emmaline Winterburn, sister of the Earl of Dunmere.”

The other three groaned, Linc the loudest. “Not you as well, Cooper? I thought you were sure to remain a bachelor forever.”

He smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid I have met the absolute antithesis of what I believed my ideal wife to be, but something about her compels me. The trouble is, she refuses to consider marriage at all, and she seems to have taken up stealing while attending the ton’s entertainments.” He let his words slip past their whisky-soaked awareness.

Wolf put it together first. “Damn your eyes!” He leaned forward and lowered his voice, “Are you saying the Waltzing Thief is a woman?”

“Why yes, I am. I thought I had her attention redirected toward more carnal pursuits, but then I saw this morning’s edition of the Times.” Cooper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why not walk away?” Linc asked the very question Cooper had been asking himself since that morning.

But then the heated kiss he’d stolen before he’d last left her replayed in his mind, a reminder that something about the woman had wrapped itself around his soul and wouldn’t surrender. “I’m afraid it isn’t so simple now. I find myself quite enamored with the hellion.”

His friends all looked aghast at his declaration, but he had spent the morning accepting the truth of his dilemma.

“Since I cannot leave her without trying to save her, I need your help. Lady Emmaline is no bored Society miss out for a lark. I thought perhaps it was the excitement of the activity, but when I spoke to her today and demanded she cease, I saw a desperation in her gaze that I had not noticed before. Something is driving her to rob people, and if I don’t discover what it is, quickly, I may be too late to save her.”

Flint looked at Linc and Wolf, then back to Cooper. “We are at your service. How may we assist you?”

He laid out his plan to track Emily with their help. They all agreed, and after a bit more discussion, they rose to part ways. Flint was taking the first watch and headed off to his post for the rest of the rainy afternoon.

Alone again, Cooper sat brooding. How could he have been so stupid as to get involved with Lady Emmaline? He should have stayed the course with his plan to find a sweet, submissive chit with no scandal to be found in her family. Instead, he’d snatched up a little hellion who stole jewels during balls for thrills.

Or perhaps he was missing a key piece of the story. The Earl of Dunmere did not appear to be down on his luck, or no more so than many lords in these modern times. Certainly, he owed creditors and was always good for a wager at a party, but nothing had struck Cooper as being irregular.

But now? With Emily refusing to shift her thrill seeking to the bedroom with him—as he had hoped she would once he made the offer—he had to suspect Dunmere and his sister were in poor financial shape. The problem was, if she wouldn’t trust him with the truth, he would have to discover it on his own. But once he knew for certain, what would he do about it?