Chapter Four

"Henri Bonheur" smiled as his unwilling new accomplice closed the door behind her with a distinctly irritated click.

Eleanor Law was everything he'd been hoping for, and more, and his heart pounded against his ribs at the prospect of crossing swords with her again. She was, for want of a better word, invigorating.

He hadn't planned on kissing her—not tonight, at least—but since the perfect moment had presented itself, he'd seized the opportunity. Fortune favored the brave, after all. Or the brazen, in this case.

The shocked look on her face had been delightful; her expressive features had betrayed first incredulity, then an unexpected flush of desire, and his body hardened at the memory of her soft pink lips beneath his own.

He'd kissed scores of women in his time, for countless reasons, but none who'd been so unsuspecting, nor so innocent. The experience had been deliciously novel, and for the first time in a long time he'd found it hard to remember the plan. The urge to keep on kissing her had been that strong.

He wondered, idly, if he should be worried.

When he'd first arrived in London and started investigating King he could admire her pleasing features as one might enjoy those of a classical statue. Plus, she seemed entirely devoted to her besotted husband.

The stormy, wilder attractiveness of Dorothea Hamilton hinted at a restless spirit a little too similar to his own, but the instant attraction he'd felt on seeing Eleanor Law had been an unexpected shock.

At first glance she appeared almost plain. Her physical beauty was subtle, as if she was deliberately hiding the full strength of it for fear of drawing unwanted attention, but he was a man accustomed to spotting a single diamond among a mountain of paste.

Ellie reminded him of a Roman coin he'd once found in a field in Tuscany. It had appeared dull, almost uninspiring, but a quick rub on his shirt had revealed its true nature: glistening, breathtaking gold.

The fact that she clearly possessed brains, as well as a sharp wit and even sharper tongue, gave him a moment of disquiet. He'd never wasted much time thinking about his "ideal" woman, but if he had , then she had many of the attributes he'd doubtless desire.

Which was foolish. Love at first sight was as much of a myth as the name he'd given her. Lust at first sight, however, certainly existed, and exploring his attraction to her while they worked together for the next few weeks was something he was looking forward to with a great deal of anticipation.