Chapter 3

"Take your hand off my arm," the boy, who was actually a girl, hissed, glaring at him. Her eyes were bright green, glittering fiercely like cut emeralds. "I mean it!"

Thomas barely heard her. All he could think was that he couldn't let her go before he found out who the deuce she was. He had just let her walk away with a pile of winnings that in truth belonged to him now, but he had been so shocked when that lock of chestnut-brown hair had fallen over her face like that

"Calm down," he whispered, drawing her away from the main gaming hall and into a secluded room. "I am not going to hurt you."

He studied her face. He should have realized instantly, of course, as soon as he sat beside her and saw her. Her face was fine-boned with high cheekbones, and she had the most luscious, bee-stung lips. A feminine face. A beautiful face.

And then there were her eyes, those emerald-green eyes, flashing with intelligence as well as irritation. He had no doubt about her cleverness. She had just waltzed into a gambling hell, disguised as a boy, and managed to beat all the old timers to the ground, amassing a sizeable fortune.

It was audacious. It was impudent. It was brazen. It was also highly arousing when accomplished by such a fearless, beautiful girl.

"Who are you?" he whispered again, more urgently this time.

She shrugged off his hand, glaring at him. "Why do you want to know? Why do you care?"

"I just let you walk away with all that money," he drawled, his eyes lingering on those delectable lips. "I think you owe me at least that."

She bit her lip. He felt a stab of desire shoot through his body, just watching her.

As she contemplated his question, he couldn't resist. With a quick flick of his hand, he removed her cap. That glorious chestnut-brown hair tumbled down in soft waves, framing her face.

Oh, dear Lord. She is truly exquisite.

"I will start," he whispered, trying to ignore the pulsing in his loins. "I am Thomas Riverton, the Duke of Newden." He bowed in a mocking way. "At your service."

"The Duke of Newden?" she squeaked. "I have heard about you! You are an impossible rake, are you not?"

Thomas's jaw dropped again. The girl's voice had suddenly changed. She wasn't mumbling any longer, trying to make her voice deeper and rougher. In fact, she spoke with the perfectly enunciated vowels of the ton.

The boy had turned into a girl… and now, just as suddenly, she had transformed into a lady.

What the deuce was a lady doing in one of the roughest gambling dens in London disguised like a lower-class boy?

"Some call me that," he admitted, trying to hide his shock. "But you should not listen to Society gossip." He shook his head incredulously. "Really. Enough is enough. Who the deuce are you?"

She suppressed a smile, before bobbing a curtsey, holding out an imaginary skirt with her hands. It looked ludicrous in her working man's coarse attire. He stifled a laugh.

"Miss Catherine Audley, Your Grace," she replied. Her lips twitched. "At your service."

Thomas blinked rapidly. Audley… he had heard the name. There was a gentleman at his club who went by the name of Audley. A viscount with hair very similar to that of the young lady…

Suddenly, he laughed, tilting his head back. "You are the sister of the Viscount Whitley," he whispered, admiring her more with every passing second. "Are you not?"

She tilted her head to the side, studying his face carefully.

"I am," she confirmed. Her bright green eyes held challenge within them. "Are you going to leave now and tattle to a scandal sheet?"

He took a step closer to her, gazing down at her intently. This close, he caught a whiff of her evocative rose-scented perfume. Clearly, the lady had forgotten that she shouldn't be wearing perfume in order to pass as a lower-class lad. She was lucky that none of the ruffians in here had gotten close enough to her to discern it. Or were too deep in their cups to notice.

"What are you doing in here?" he growled. "You are a high-born lady! You should not even know that this gambling hell exists!"

Her eyes flashed. "Well, I do know, and it is my business entirely…"

He shook his head, gripping her arm again. "If you do not tell me why you are in here, dressed that way, I will take you home to your brother and tell him everything." He lowered his voice, his lips twitching. "That is after I teach you a lesson or two for your insolence."

Miss Audley gasped, taking a step back. "You are audacious, Your Grace!"

"Not nearly as audacious as you," he shot back, frowning. "Do you know how dangerous these places are? They are filled with low lives who will rob you blind quicker than looking at you. It is no place for a lady!"

She bit her lip again. It took all his willpower not to place a finger there and trace the line of those delectable lips to feel their soft plumpness.

"I… I will tell you," she whispered, visibly paling. "If you promise that it will go no further. That you will not tell another living soul."

"Does not unmasking you in front of everyone in there not suffice?" he asked, nodding towards the gambling hell.

Catherine crossed her arms over her chest. "No."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. That price for knowledge seemed fair enough.

"I do so swear," he declared softly, leaning closer to her. "Go on. I am all ears."

She sighed deeply. "I… I needed to win tonight," she stammered, gazing down at the bag that she clutched in her hand. "We are in financial trouble, you see. My brother gambles, but alas, he does not have a winning streak." Her blush deepened. "I was trying to save us from ruin. I am deft at cards. The only way I could do it was in this disguise."

Thomas felt another jolt of shock. He had thought he was done being surprised by this lady, but it seemed that he was wrong. Clearly, she was full of surprises.

But alongside the shock, he felt admiration for her. She really was fearless. He didn't know any young ladies who would have the audacity to do this, never mind pulling it off so spectacularly. If he hadn't challenged her, she would have walked away with her winnings with a clear conscience. The ruse would have worked.

She gaped at him. "You do not want it back now, do you?" she asked in a hesitant voice. "You have not changed your mind?"

He opened his mouth to assure her he had not then abruptly shut it again. He stared at her. An odd idea was forming in his mind, so shocking and outrageous that he immediately dismissed it. But then, he kept staring at her beautiful, fearless face with those amazing emerald-green eyes, the way her hair fell in unruly waves around her face.

What a woman. A lady like no other. A different woman… one who might suit his purposes, and get his grandmother off his back once and for all. "That depends," he replied slowly, scratching his chin. "Will you agree to marry me if I let you keep the winnings?"

Her jaw dropped in the most comical way. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting him to say that. He still couldn't believe he had said it.

"You are jesting, of course," she said in a puzzled voice.

"I am not," he assured her, his heart pounding now. "I will let you keep the winnings, even though they are mine, if you agree to marry me."

She let out a bark of uncertain laughter, her eyes flickering around the room. "No," she replied eventually, staring at him. "Are you quite mad?"

"I have never been saner in my life," he declared. "Why not? You get to keep your winnings, which you sorely need… And you will get to marry the most handsome Duke in the ton. Is that not advantageous to you?"

She kept staring at him, completely aghast, her eyes vibrant in the dim light of the street lamps.

"What, do not tell me that you do not find me the least bit handsome," he said with a smirk.

He took a step closer to her as he uttered the last line, gazing down at her, breathing her in. He heard her sharp intake of breath and noticed the way her pupils dilated. He felt a surge of triumph.

So, she feels it too—this incredible pull between us.

Many ladies would drop their gazes, confused by the thick sensuality simmering between them, or take a hasty step back, but Miss Audley didn't. She tossed back that glorious chestnut-brown hair, raised her chin, and looked him squarely in the eye.

Fearless. Audacious. Courageous. Divine.

"I do not wish to bind myself to any man," she declared, her voice steady. "I do not wish to be owned by a man… even a handsome one."

He smiled lazily, reaching for a curl and twirling it around his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat.

"So, you admit that you do find me handsome," he teased.

"You are tolerable, I suppose," she said nonchalantly, tossing her hair back again. "I am certain that many ladies just fall at your feet like limpets, given your appalling reputation." Her emerald-green eyes glittered dangerously. "But I am not any lady, Your Grace."

"You most certainly are not," he breathed. "I have never met a lady like you." He hesitated. "Go on. You are impulsive, brave and fearless. Take a chance."

She bit her lip, tilting her head to the side, studying him. He could barely breathe.

"Have you laid down a challenge to me?" Her voice was gaining strength. "Is that what this is?"

"If you want it to be," he whispered.

"Then I accept," she said, taking a deep breath. She paused for a moment. "On one condition."

He felt another surge of triumph. "And that is?"

She exhaled slowly. "I will marry you… if you allow me to keep the winnings, as you have said… but you must also pay off the rest of my brother's debt."

He let out a bark of laughter. "You strike a hard bargain."

"Always," she said.

Their eyes met and locked. A surge of lightning seemed to pulse between them. He couldn't have looked away even if he wanted to, which he really didn't. He didn't want to be anywhere but here.

"I accept your terms," he whispered. "Is that it?"

"No," she said, raising her chin. "If we marry, then I must have your word it is a marriage of convenience only."

He felt a stab of displeasure. He wanted her. He wanted her very badly, indeed. He couldn't remember the last time he had experienced such an immediate, overwhelming desire for a woman.

He shifted on his feet, about to declare that wasn't possible, then stopped again. As much as he wanted her, it would probably be safer to contain his lust. He didn't want to risk developing feelings for her… and if they made love on a regular basis, that might become a distinct possibility.

He was asking her to marry him for a reason: to get his grandmother to cease her meddling and stop the endless parade of limpid, guileless ladies like Lady Susannah Winter that the Dowager Duchess was throwing at him.

A marriage of convenience would be far better than indulging the desire between them which would probably peter out quickly anyway and just make things awkward.

"I simply need a wife to satisfy family needs," he said slowly. "I want a marriage of convenience too. So that condition is fine with me."

Miss Audley looked so relieved that he almost felt irritated, even though it was what he wanted as well. He had just told her so. But suddenly, he couldn't bear for it to be left at that. Not this evening.

"Have you ever been kissed?" he asked her softly.

Her eyes widened with alarm. "No."

"Then I propose starting our courtship by showing you how."