He watched her for a long moment before he said, “In my experience, there are few things worth protecting. When a man finds one, he should do his best to keep it safe.”

She opened her mouth, as if she had something to say, but seemed to think better of it, ultimately releasing the handle, pulling her hand from beneath his, making him wish they were somewhere else – anywhere else – alone, with an eternity to fill with nothing but touch.

His desire for her terrified as much as it threatened.

For Georgiana Pearson was the most dangerous woman he’d ever known.

He wondered what he would not do for this woman and her beautiful mind and her tempting body.

He turned away from her and opened the door with a quick, economical movement, stepping into the room.

He took in the space, registering two things instantly.

First, the room was enormous and nearly blinding in its brightness, heavy white curtains pulled back from floor-to-ceiling windows to let in the daylight. The room was decorated in crisp, clean white lines, carpet, settee, even the art white and welcoming. There was nothing dark about the space. Nothing that indicated its inhabitant owned a casino. Nothing that hinted at the sin and vice that reigned feet away from the office.

And second, Chase was not there.

Chapter 16

… Our Lady G— may be winning hearts and minds across the ton, but if there are any that remain closed to her, let her grace in the face of adversity prove her worth! Certainly, it has proven something to Lord L—, this author believes a match may soon be reported in these very pages!

… On to the Duke and Duchess of L —! The pair – still as striking together as they were nearly a decade ago when the Duke professed his love in public and the Duchess refused him – was espied on horseback one morning this week in Hyde Park. No doubt the pair thought it was early enough that a passionate kiss would not be seen, but we, too, are early risers…

The Scandal Sheet, May 5, 1833

She stepped into the room behind him, desperate to contain her nervousness.

There were a half-dozen people in the world who had been inside this room, where she played the role of Chase, where she managed the work of The Fallen Angel, and where she ruled London’s darkest corners.

And now she stood here, with a man desperate to know her secrets.

With a man to whom she might find herself confessing all if she was not careful.

She watched him take in her space, his brown eyes narrowing in the bright light as they settled on the large, comfortable chairs she’d had custom-built and upholstered in white velvet, on the plush white carpet that cushioned their feet, on the yards and yards of bookshelves that spanned the fourteen feet from floor to ceiling.

And then his gaze settled on her desk.

He moved toward the wide and wonderful centerpiece of the room, and she watched as his fingers traced its edge, wondering at the touch.

Envious.

She started at the thought. The man made her jealous of furniture.

She rushed to speak, to push back the inane idea and fill the silence. “It was made from wood salvaged from a shipwreck.”

His fingers stilled on a dark knot in the wood. “Of course it was,” he said, quietly.

She could not help herself. “What does that mean?”

He smiled, but the expression lacked humor. “He honors destruction in whatever way possible.”

That wasn’t what had drawn her to the desk at all. “I think it is more likely that Chase chose the piece because it is a resurrection from ruin.”

He met her gaze. “As you are?”

Exactly as I am.

But she could not tell him that, so she looked away.

“You knew he would not be here,” he said.

She considered lying, but could not do so. “I did.”

He looked away, frustration and fury on his handsome face. “Then why bring me here? To torture me? To show me my weakness?”

“Your weakness?” He was in no way weak. He was strength personified.

He came toward her. “To show me that even now, even as I stand ready to battle him, he is one ahead of me? To show me that he will always —” He stopped.

She prodded. “Will always what?”

He moved again, pushing her back, stalking her toward the door, which she suddenly regretted closing. “To show me that he will always come first with you, despite the fact that he treats you so poorly.”

“He does not treat me poorly.”

“Except he does. He does not believe in you. He does not see your worth. How very valuable you are. How very precious you are.”

She stilled, and he saw the surprise in her eyes. “You think me precious?”

He met her gaze. Refused to let her look away. “I know you are.”

The conversation was dangerous. It made her think of things that could never be. She shook her head, her heart pounding as she pressed against the door and his hands came to the oak surface on either side of her head. “He knows your secrets. And you know his. And you’ll protect them forever, even as it destroys you.”

He was so close, the words whispered at her ear, sending threat and thrill through her. “It won’t destroy me.”

“Of course it will,” he said. “Your choices are ruining you. This place over freedom. Langley over love. Chase over —”

Me.

She heard the word even as he did not say it.

“I don’t,” she whispered, her hands coming to his chest, sliding up to the bare skin of his neck, to the strong line of his jaw. She might not be able to have it, but her choice was clear. “I don’t.”