CHAPTER 1

LORD ANDREW RADCLIFFE saw the ploy coming from a mile away. After all, his older brother had coached him well. And thanks to years of experience extricating himself from situations such as this, he was also fairly adept at evading the parson's trap. It was the reason he avoided society balls such as this one like the plague. He had only attended today because his grandmother was hosting the ball, and she had insisted on his presence. The old gel was such a manipulative old codger that he could deny her nothing.

It grew tiresome to always have to be on the defensive against ambitious mothers and their scheming daughters. But to be fair, it had been a while since someone had tried such a blatant maneuver on him. As the library door closed behind the young girl who had invaded his refuge, he wondered if he should feel insulted by the simplemindedness of this plan.

I mean, if you wanted to catch a rake of the highest caliber such as himself, you had to use some finesse and creativity. They had employed none. He checked his watch as he observed the young lady who had made herself comfortable on the library sofa. He should have between three and five minutes to escape before the enterprising mama appeared to cry scandal and demand marriage.

Any moment now, the girl would pretend to faint, or burst crying, or maybe she would peruse the books and "accidentally" run into him. Anything to compel him from his spot. She would act surprised at first, and then distressed to be alone with a man. He looked forward to the unfolding of her farce.

But she surprised him by doing none of those things. Instead, she sat on the settee in the middle of the room. All prim and proper. After arranging her skirts about her, she searched around in her reticule, extracted a book, and started reading. Reading! In the middle of staging a husband trap?

Uncharacteristically, his curiosity exceeded his prudence, and he allowed himself to study her. Rich auburn hair. He couldn't see the color of her eyes, but they looked dark. Fringed by equally dark lashes. A straight, cute nose and luscious lips as plump as her...tits. Even for a discerning connoisseur of women such as him, she was a tempting minx. If she were a demimondaine, he would try to make her acquaintance and spend tonight in her bed.

Alas, what a shame to see such a pretty face and luscious body wasted in a respectable miss. Although she was not in the usual style of debutantes. For one thing, she didn't look eighteen. She looked older, more mature. On the shelf and getting desperate to snag a husband? But then, she didn't look desperate. She looked confident, serene, and beautiful. He could do a lot worse than to be forced to marry such a delectable morsel.

Now, where did that thought come from? He didn't intend to marry yet. And he certainly would not let a conniving baggage, no matter how alluring, force or pressure him into marriage. She could be stupid. In fact, if she was unmarried and had to resort to trick men into proposing, despite her beauty, she must be insufferable.

"You have two minutes left to make your escape before my mother bursts through that door with a couple of her most gossipy cronies," the conniving baggage said.

Her voice was a rich alto. Honeyed and sensual. The kind of voice he liked to have whispering naughty things in his ear. Stop it! His inner voice chided. He needed to stop this stupid mooning over a pretty face, or a fantastic set of tits... Oh, for pity's sake!

What had she said? Ahh, yes. That he had two minutes to make his escape. Wait, was she warning him? That was new. He emerged from the shadowy corner where he had been lurking.

"And what, pray tell, would happen if I'm caught here with you?" he taunted. Wanting to hear her admit she had been planning to entrap him.

She narrowed her eyes, which made her look like an angry angel. She was so pretty, with her rounded pink cheeks and plush mouth, that she couldn't look intimidating if she tried.

"You know damn well what would happen," she accused.

Oh, his naughty angel cursed. Better and better.

"My mother and her friends would raise an uproar and force us to marry," she finished with an angry, loud whisper. For all the world, as if this whole situation was his fault.

"And what makes you think they can force me to marry anyone?"

"It would be the gentlemanly thing to do," she replied.

"Ah, but I'm no gentleman. I don't play by those rules."

"Oh," That seemed to take her aback. She seemed...hurt. "In that case, I would reiterate that you should leave posthaste. I would rather not be discovered here with you and have my reputation ruined."

"Why do I have to be the one to leave? I was here first. You are the one who invaded my lair with your nefarious plans to force me into marriage."

"They are not my plans," she gritted out. "If they were, I would hardly be urging you to leave, would I? It was my mother's idea. With your grandmother's blessing, I might add."

Oh, the betrayal. The old crone would hear from him. "Then why don't you leave?"

"I can't. My mother is determined to see me married this season one way or another. I have no intention of obliging her, but have been pretending to go along with her plans. Life is easier that way. At least until I'm twenty-one and able to receive my inheritance. I'm only a month away from my goal. Now run along before you ruin everything."

She made a shooing gesture with her hand. As if he were a chicken, for goodness' sake. He would be offended if he wasn't so amused by this cunning angel. He had to know her better; without the impending arrival of her mother looming over their heads. Which reminded him he had less than a minute left to exit or risk being caught in a scandal. And while he had told her the truth, that he didn't mind a scandal and would resist any sort of pressure to marry, he didn't want to ruin the girl.

Making a sudden decision, he took her hand. "Come with me," he urged, striding towards the terrace doors on the other side of the room.

She dug her heels. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Please. I only want to get to know you better. Without the threat of your mother raising an outrage."

"Why would you want to know me? Just go away and consider yourself lucky that I warned you."

"Not a chance, my naughty angel." He tugged her hand and this time, thankfully, she followed him. They were running out of time to make their escape. "You walked into my lair. Now you have to pay the price for trifling with a tiger."