Brilliana tried to resist Niall’s kiss, but it was impossible. She’d dreamed of this for years, and now that his mouth was on hers, she realized her memory hadn’t done it justice. Especially since they’d never kissed this way in their youth. How she wished they had! She’d never liked it when Reynold did it, but with Niall it was glorious. He plundered her mouth like a pirate at sea, commanding everything before him. His breath mingled with hers, his lips molded every line of hers, and his tongue . . .

Oh, it took and gave and played and drove, as if he meant to possess her again. Only this time, he meant to take both heart and body.

The thought of it made her so light-headed that she clung desperately to his arms. Just to steady herself. Not to pull him closer so she could possess him. No, indeed.

And what well-wrought arms he had, much more so than she remembered. She wanted to stay in them forever, to keep kissing his warm mouth, smelling his sandalwood scent . . . feeling the flex of his muscles through his coat sleeves.

The urge was so strong that when he broke the kiss, she nearly moaned. Then he murmured her name in a tone that sounded as full of wonder as she felt, and tugged her right atop his lap.

Goodness gracious!

And the kissing began all over again, even fiercer and hotter than before, so hot she thought she might go up in smoke. So hot that she knew she ought to halt him. He was a rogue—she shouldn’t encourage this. It meant naught to him but seduction.

But she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. She wanted this taste of him too badly, this taste of their past together. This sweet, heady reminder that she was a woman with needs that he could satisfy, if she let him.

She couldn’t, mustn’t, let him. And yet . . .

“I can’t believe I forgot this,” he murmured against her lips. He settled her more firmly on his lap. “Do you feel what you do to me, sweeting?”

Oh yes. The bulge in his trousers made that perfectly clear. “Yes. But we can’t. . . . I won’t. . . .”

He took her mouth again like the ravisher he was. Only he didn’t stop there this time. He covered one of her breasts with his hand, kneading and tempting and provoking her to madness.

And it felt so good, drat him. It had been over a year since she’d been touched by a man; she’d forgotten how exquisite it could feel. Especially when the man touching her had once held her heart—

No! She mustn’t let him do this to her again!

Wriggling out of his arms, she threw herself onto the other seat and fought to catch her breath.

“Bree . . .” he said in a low voice, leaning forward as if to reach for her again.

“Stop that!” She slid as far from him as the seat would allow. “You . . . you said you wouldn’t try to take advantage of the situation.” Oh, how she wished she didn’t sound so desperate. “You promised!”

“I didn’t promise any such thing,” he ground out.

To be fair, that was true. Wrapping her arms about her waist, she drew into herself. “Not precisely that, but you said you wouldn’t ‘behave lecherously.’ ”

Anger flared in his face. “And that’s how you saw what we just did. As a sordid attempt to ‘lure’ you into my bed.”

She thrust up her chin. “Wasn’t it?”

“If it was, then you weren’t exactly opposed to it.” He leveled a hard gaze on her. “It seemed to me that you were as eager for me just now as I was for you.”

“You started it, though,” she said inanely. Lord, she sounded like a child.

“And you continued it.” A mocking smile crossed his lips. “You’re a widow, Bree. You can do as you please, you know. Plenty of widows take lovers. If you want me—”

“I don’t.”

His eyes glittered at her. “You gave a very convincing performance otherwise, sweeting.”

Well, she could hardly deny that. “I was . . . swept up in the moment. It’s been some time since I . . .” When his smile broadened, she gritted her teeth. “It doesn’t matter why I gave in. Temporarily. It won’t happen again. It mustn’t.”

“I would dearly like to know why not,” he drawled, laying his arm on the back of the seat with that supreme self-assurance she remembered so well.

She’d been captivated by it once. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice. “Because I’m not fool enough to fall for your attentions again.”

His gaze darkened. “You can tell yourself that all you like. But Fulkham wasn’t lying when he said that ‘the air fairly thrums’ between us. Still, after all these years. And that kind of feeling doesn’t just disappear because you think it foolish.”

How she wanted him to be wrong. But the idea of taking him as a lover tantalized her.

Or it would have, if she hadn’t known how it would eventually end, both in bed and out. The actual lovemaking always proved disappointing. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. My plans for the future do not include you.”

“Nor do mine include you,” he said bluntly. Then he raked her with a hot glance that touched her mouth, her breasts . . . and lower, before meeting her eyes again. “That doesn’t mean we can’t thoroughly enjoy our situation while it lasts. We’re both free to do that at present.”

“You’re free,” she snapped. “Men always are. But I have a son and a reputation to uphold, for his sake as well as my own. And if you should happen to get me with child—”

He shrugged. “There are ways to avoid that.”

“With which you’re thoroughly familiar, I’m sure.”

She’d expected her snippy remark to insult him. Instead, it only seemed to amuse him. “All I’m saying—”

“I know what you’re saying, but—” The carriage shuddered to a halt, and she could have wept with relief. “We’re here.”

He glanced out, his lips tightening into a thin line. “So we are.”

The footman quickly put down the step, opened the carriage door, and hurried up the town house steps to knock at her father’s door.

Niall disembarked, then turned to help Brilliana climb out. But he didn’t release her at once. Instead, he stood there with his hands gripping her waist as he stared down at her, looking for all the world like a real fiancé.

“We’ll continue this discussion later,” he said in a low, husky voice.

Her throat tightened. She really wished he wouldn’t look at her like that. It did wicked things to her insides. “I shan’t change my mind.”

He chuckled. “You don’t know how persuasive I can be.”

Oh, but she did. That was the trouble. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how stubborn I can be.”

His amusement faded, replaced by a searing intensity she found far more unnerving. “Trust me, I remember only too well. But you are no longer a sweet young innocent and I am no longer a besotted young fool. I suspect we would do much better together these days.”

She slipped from his arms and rushed up the steps ahead of him. She refused to let him win in this, even when she was painfully conscious of his steps echoing behind her, of his gaze on her back—and probably her backside, too. It felt as if she’d stepped back in time to when she was seventeen.

It only made matters worse that nothing about the Payne town house had changed. The same pot of nasturtiums sat at the far end of the porch, the front door held the same brass wolf-head knocker, and the fanlight iron still needed blackening. Memories flooded her, more bad than good. She had hoped never to return here.

So much for that.

Jenkins appeared in the doorway, the same genial old butler he’d always been, albeit a bit balder. And clearly curious about her appearance here with a gentleman of Niall’s consequence.

“As I live and breathe, it’s you!” he cried. “Your father will be so surprised to see you, Miss Bri . . . I mean, Mrs. Trevor.”

She pasted a smile to her lips. “Good afternoon, Jenkins. I take it that Papa is home?”

“Oh yes.” He cast a furtive look at Niall.

“If you would, please let him know that Lord Margrave and I have come to call.”

“At once, madam.” He glanced behind her. “And the . . . er . . . child? Isn’t he with you?”

“I’m afraid not. I preferred to visit Papa without him first.”

Jenkins looked disappointed, but then, he’d been with the family for years. No doubt he had a natural curiosity about her son.

She felt a quick stab of guilt at having not brought Silas along, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted him to know his deceitful, betraying gambler of a grandfather. Who might just be a counterfeiter to boot.

As they waited to be announced, Niall glanced around at the worn rug, the walls in need of paint, and the fraying curtains. “For a man who might be involved in something criminal,” he said in an undertone, “your father doesn’t exactly live large.”

“No. He’s always too busy staying ahead of his creditors for that.” With a jolt of pain, she stared at the space where her favorite cabinet used to stand. “And given that my entire collection of Wedgwood seems to have disappeared, I’ll wager he’s not doing very well with that.” Her throat tightened. “I’m sure he got a pretty penny for it.”

“I’m sorry, sweeting,” Niall said in a low voice. “I know how much you admired Wedgwood’s designs.”

The fact that he remembered made her heart turn over. A pox on him for that. “Well, if my father is part of this conspiracy, I warrant it’s only because he owes money everywhere.”

The tap of a cane in the hall a few moments later was their only warning that someone approached. She was surprised to find it was Papa.

And when he came into the light, she saw that the cane wasn’t the only thing new about him. His hair had gone fully gray. There were new wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and a droop to his chin. The belligerent, heedless fellow she remembered didn’t seem quite so belligerent anymore. And when he clutched the cane with both hands, an odd alarm stabbed her chest.

“What happened to your leg?” she burst out.

“Not that you care, girl, but the gout plagues me from time to time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, realizing that it was the truth.

In spite of everything he’d done and all he’d cost her, he was still her father, and seeing him looking so old for a man only in his fifties . . . It made her want to cry.

“If you are, I’m surprised. You denied me even a glance at my grandson.” His expression turned resentful. “So am I to assume that your presence here means you have finally acknowledged your duty to your family?”

The unfair words were such a slap in the face that they lessened her sympathy considerably. Belligerence still lurked inside him, after all. “I fulfilled that duty long ago, Papa,” she said quietly, “and you know it.”

Something flickered in his gaze. Regret? No, Papa never felt regret.

Niall cleared his throat, reminding her that she wasn’t here alone, and she started. “Papa, may I introduce Niall Lindsey, the Earl of Margrave.”

“Her fiancé,” Niall added in a strangely protective tone as he took her hand and planted it firmly in the crook of his arm.

Papa scowled at her. “You have a fiancé, girl? And this is the first I’m hearing of it?”

She bristled. “For one thing, it just happened last night. And for another, it’s not as if I’m some wide-eyed innocent who requires my father’s permission to—”

“Forgive me for not speaking to you first, sir,” Niall said in an ingratiating tone as he squeezed her hand. Hard. “I was simply so swept up in my plans and afraid of letting her get away that I blundered right in.”

Well, wasn’t he just the smoothest fellow ever? And judging from the slight softening in Papa’s features, her father had fallen for it. She wasn’t sure whether to admire Niall for his swift thinking, or find him even more suspicious a character.

“But I do mean to start this marriage off right,” Niall added, making a point of caressing her hand, which perversely freed a cloud of butterflies in her belly. “That’s why I wanted to make up for my blunder by coming to meet you at once.”

The way he’d refused to do seven years ago, when he’d had the chance.

That memory scattered the butterflies. He’d toyed with her heart and then had gone on to live his life as he pleased. So no matter what plans he wanted to lure her into privately now, she would resist.

She caught Papa watching her. Dear Lord, she simply must get better at hiding her feelings. “Yes,” she said, forcing a smile, “we wanted you to be aware of the engagement.”

“And to be part of the wedding plans, of course,” Niall said.

She bobbed her head. She’d forgotten that Papa had to be more intimately involved with them, if Niall was to uncover his secrets. Heavens, she wasn’t good at all with this subterfuge.

But Papa brightened considerably. “Well then, that’s excellent. Always knew she’d marry again. Too pretty not to.”

Brilliana stifled a sigh. That had been the only part of her Papa had ever noticed—her looks and what they could bring him.

Niall cast her a surprisingly tender glance. “Too pretty for the likes of me, no doubt. But I shall endeavor to be worthy of her.”

Even knowing that the words were merely part of his role, they made her heart flip over—drat the man. She really must do something about these ridiculous reactions to him.

“Worthy of her!” Papa snorted. “Don’t be silly. You’re an earl. You’re more than worthy of her.”

“For God’s sake, Oswald,” said a new voice from down the hall, “the man is trying to pay my niece a compliment. Don’t ruin it.”

She blinked. “Uncle Toby?”

“In the flesh,” he said jovially as he approached. Her uncle had aged, too, but unlike Papa he still seemed hale and hearty. His dark eyes still gleamed with ever-present humor, and his clothes were of the finest quality, as always.

He came up to envelop her in a hug, then held her out to survey her. “I thought I heard your voice down here. By thunder, but it is good to see you. You’re looking well.”

“As are you.” She beamed at him. “And I’m pleased as punch to see you, too. It’s been a long time.”

Niall nudged her, and she quickly performed the introductions. “Lord Margrave, may I present Mr. Tobias Payne, my father’s younger brother and my favorite uncle? Uncle Toby, this is Lord Margrave, my fiancé.”

“Your fiancé?” he said with a firm shake of Niall’s hand. “Then a lucky man indeed.”

“I quite agree, sir,” Niall remarked. “I’m afraid I was unaware that Sir Oswald had a brother.”

“That’s because I’m rarely around,” Uncle Toby said. “I live in France.”

“Exactly,” Brilliana put in. “So what are you doing in London?”

“Bedeviling me, that’s what,” Papa muttered.

Uncle Toby merely raised an eyebrow at that. “I came a couple of weeks ago to meet with some tradesmen who use my export business. Foolishly, I agreed to stay with my grouch of an elder brother while I was here. I’ve begun to regret it, I assure you.”

“Don’t you have an appointment somewhere that’s supposed to go well into the evening?” Papa grumbled.

“I do, but I still have a few minutes to visit with my niece.”

Papa scowled at him. “So you’ll change your plans for her but not for me. Even though I told you how badly we need a fourth for our game tonight.”

Irritation flashed in Uncle Toby’s eyes. “I told you, Oswald, I am not playing cards with that group of rapscallions you call friends. I don’t trust half of them, and the other half are so deeply in debt that their vowels are worth practically nothing.”

“That’s not true,” Papa said hotly. “Why, Quinn Raines is the director of Raines Bank, a perfectly respectable fellow.”

A banker? Who dealt with currency? Surely that was a clue to their culprit.

“I know him,” Niall said. “He’s a member of my club. Seems a decent enough chap.”

“You see?” Papa told her uncle. “The earl himself approves of my friends.”

Uncle Toby merely snorted.

“Well, I haven’t met the others, I expect,” Niall said, “but I’d be happy to do so. Since you need a fourth tonight anyway—”

“Of course!” Papa cried. “By all means, come and join us at the Star and Garter. We’ll have a jolly time.”

She had to admit she was impressed. Niall had made that seem so natural that no one would have thought anything of his offer, least of all her father.

Though her uncle was now frowning at Niall. “Are you much of a gambler then, sir?”

“Of course he is,” Papa said dismissively. “He’s in a club, ain’t he?”

Niall glanced from her father to her uncle. “I enjoy the occasional game of whist as much as the next fellow.”

That didn’t seem to satisfy Uncle Toby. “So you did a lot of it while you were on the Continent, did you?”

Papa tapped his cane on the floor. “Do you mean to keep me standing on my bad leg all day, peppering my future son-in-law with questions, brother? I thought you were in a hurry to leave.”

Her uncle flashed him a strained smile. “I tell you what—why don’t you take your daughter’s fiancé upstairs to the drawing room, and I’ll send her along presently. That’ll give her a chance to tell me about her young man, while you ask him all the pertinent questions of a prospective father-in-law.”

Although he’d probably meant the words to instruct Papa in what he should do on his daughter’s behalf, that apparently went right over Papa’s head, for he broke into a smile. “Excellent idea. I can break out the brandy.” He clapped Niall on the shoulder. “Let’s celebrate, sir, and leave my dour brother to my daughter for the present.”

That made her a trifle nervous, but Niall pressed her hand and released her, which she took to mean that he wanted time alone with Papa.

As soon as the two men had moved out of earshot, Uncle Toby bent close. “The Earl of Margrave, eh? It seems my little niece has come up in the world. Smitten by your beauty, I suppose.”

Careful, now. Remember that anything you say will go straight to Papa.

She didn’t even know if Uncle Toby was involved in the counterfeiting, although that seemed unlikely. Not only had he been a well-respected business owner for years, but he’d generally been the one to get Papa out of his scrapes, to loan him money and advise him to stop his gambling. She just couldn’t see Uncle Toby being part of a counterfeiting ring.

Still, best to be cautious and keep playing her role. “His lordship does dote on me,” she said lightly.

“Just you? Or you and your late husband’s estate?”

His concern for her welfare touched her. Especially given that Papa didn’t care one whit about it. “What do you mean?”

He surveyed her closely. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hear Margrave is strapped for funds after his long exile.” Worry tightened his lips into a thin line. “Take care, my dear. I wouldn’t wish to see you hurt by taking up with a fellow with pockets to let, no matter his station. And a gambler to boot. Given your father’s tendencies, well . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, torn between the desire to reassure him and the need to further her and Niall’s scheme. “Lord Margrave isn’t so reckless as all that.”

“Are you sure? I would hate to see your marriage end up the way it did last time. Your father says you weren’t entirely happy with your former husband.”

She cast him a sharp glance. “I’m surprised that Papa even told you about the . . . er . . . true state of affairs in my marriage.”

Uncle Toby shrugged. “Oswald says that you avoid him because he’s the one who introduced the two of you. And you blamed him when it didn’t end well.”

She suppressed a snort. Introduced them. Right. She studied her uncle’s features, but he gave no sign that he knew the truth of that cursed transaction.

Then again, how could he? Aside from the fact that he’d lived in France for years, her father would never have told him. Papa had always resented his successful younger brother, who had more character in his little finger than Papa had in his entire body. Who looked down on Papa for his incessant gambling, and would never have countenanced how she’d become part of repaying Papa’s debts.

She had half a mind to set him straight about how her marriage had come about, but if he happened to mention that to Niall, the scoundrel would become even more stubborn about trying to get her into his bed.

And no matter what Niall thought, she didn’t need a lover. Especially one who made her heart flip over with a heated look. An intimate kiss. A blatant caress that made her feel so . . .

Oh, curse him to the devil. Why had he come back? He was ruining everything.

Meanwhile, her uncle was still watching her with great concern. “Have you not considered that you might be marrying a fortune hunter?”

Remember the plan. Niall wants you for your beauty; you want him for his title. “Of course I have, but honestly, it doesn’t matter. Last time, I married for . . . er . . . affection, and that, as you pointed out, ended badly. This time, I’m marrying for more practical reasons. Granted, his lordship has few funds to commend him. But my first son by him will be an earl. I can’t discount that.”

Her uncle gaped at her. “When did you become such a cynic about love?”

Withering under his clear disapproval, she murmured, “I’m not marrying him just for the title, you know. Lord Margrave is attractive and engaging and, well . . .” She didn’t have to fake a blush. “I could do worse.”

“You could do better.”

She sighed. “I’m a widow with a son. I have few enough good matrimonial prospects even with the dowry.” Remembering the picture Lord Fulkham wanted painted of Niall, she added, “Besides, he’s a clever fellow. He has big plans for the future for both of our estates. With my money and his resourcefulness, he will do whatever it takes to achieve them.”

“Will he?” Uncle Toby looked troubled. “Then you must take care, niece. That sort of fellow can make a dangerous husband.”

“I know. But Aunt Agatha will ensure that our marriage settlement protects me.” The way my father couldn’t ensure it the first time. “So for very little risk, I’m gaining an exciting husband who will make me a countess.” She pasted a smile to her lips. “How could I not find that appealing?”

“Hmm.” He glanced up the stairs. “Well, if you want me to look over the settlement, don’t hesitate to ask. Even if your father thinks to do so, he’s rather heedless about legal matters.”

To say the least. “Thank you, Uncle.” She stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. “It’s much appreciated.”

Fortunately, she wouldn’t be needing his services. Because the one thing she and Niall would never be doing was getting married.