“Where are you taking me?” she whispered, darting glances at the crowds of people surrounding them—all of whom seemed oblivious to her abduction.

He pushed her behind the screen, following her into the quiet alcove, and they were alone again. Callie was once more consumed by emotion, equal parts excitement and fear. The enormous mahogany screen had been set several feet from the wall of west-facing windows to block the sun from obstructing the views of the paintings. The screen reached far above their heads, creating a pool of brilliant sunlight and muffling the sound of the exhibition beyond.

The perfect place for a lovers’ tryst. Callie pushed the thought from her head and summoned the anger and hurt that she’d been feeling in the days since her last interaction with Ralston. She could not let him have the upper hand. Not here. “Are you mad?” she whispered, irritated.

“No one saw,” Ralston said.

“How could you know that?”

“Because I know.” He reached out a hand to touch her face.

She flinched from his touch. “Don’t touch me.”

Emotion flashed in his eyes at her movement, there, then gone before she could define it. “I would never do anything to damage your reputation, Callie.” The words were honest.

“Forgive me, my lord, but it rather seems that everything you do near me is a risk to my reputation.” She lashed out, desperate to hurt him, eager for him to feel the pain that she had felt for the days since she’d seen him last.

One side of Ralston’s mouth lifted. “I deserved that.”

“And much more.” She met his eyes boldly. “I told you that afternoon in your ballroom, my lord, I’m through with these interludes. And with you. You have quite extraordinarily misinterpreted my interest. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Baron Oxford will be searching for me.”

“You can’t really be serious about Oxford.”

She ignored him, instead moving to pass him and escape around the edge of the screen into the room beyond. He captured her hand as she pushed past, and the touch stopped her. He did not hold her firmly enough that she couldn’t extricate herself from his grasp, but the heat of his gloved hand against her own made her look back at him, forced her to meet his eyes.

In that moment, the only thing he wanted was for her to stay with him. For her to forgive him. He’d arrived with Juliana, ready to find Callie and apologize for his boorish behavior—ready to do whatever it took to repair the obvious hurt that he had caused. And he’d located her almost immediately, beaming up at Oxford, clearly having a lovely time, as the pair had reentered the main gallery. The sight had infuriated him—Callie so lovely and happy, Oxford so foppish and simple.

She’d never smiled so openly at Ralston. And if she were to do so, he certainly wouldn’t respond as Oxford had, the fool, walking away from her. No. If she ever looked at him in such a way, he’d sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Hang the Royal Art Exhibition.

Hell. He wanted to kiss her senseless right then, and she certainly wasn’t smiling at him.

He’d find a way to repair the damage he’d caused. But first, he had to eliminate Oxford from the equation. The stupid wager that he’d made with the ridiculous baron, was just that—stupid. Ralston now understood that he’d done nothing but taunt Oxford into proving his ability to win Callie; he was not going to give up the chase for Callie. Particularly not with one thousand pounds riding on its outcome.

“Don’t get attached to Oxford,” Ralston said.

“Whyever not?” Her words taunted him.

“He’s a gold digger with the intelligence of a goat.”

“Of course he is,” she said, simply, as though he had just proclaimed the sky blue.

His brow furrowed. “Then why come here with him?”

“Because he asked.”

The answer, so obvious, frustrated him. He ran a hand through his hair before pointing out, “That shouldn’t be enough, Callie. For God’s sake.”

She smiled then, a sad, small smile that set him on edge. “You’re right. It shouldn’t be enough.”

He felt a strange pressure in his chest at the words and, in that moment, the decision was made. Oxford couldn’t have her. Ralston wouldn’t allow it.

Their gazes locked for several long moments before she moved to pull her hand from his, and he found that he could not let her go. His fingers tightened around hers, unyielding. She looked to him with surprise.

“Let me take you somewhere,” he said.

“My lord?”

“Where would you like to go? Surely you’ll afford me the same opportunity you’ve given Oxford.”

“It’s not a competition.” The words were quiet, and he sensed an underlying meaning in them that he didn’t entirely understand.

Ignoring that for a moment, he repeated, “Let me take you somewhere. You choose. The theater again. A picnic with Mariana and Rivington. A damn carriage ride.”

She thought for a moment. “I don’t want your escort to any of those places.”

“Why not?”

“I am turning over a new leaf. Nowhere plain. Nowhere missish.”

He felt the words like a blow, immediately recognizing the hurtful words as his own. Damn it. What could he say to make it right? He ran another hand through his dark hair, setting several thick locks loose. Suddenly, the conversation seemed one of the most important he’d ever had.

“God, Callie, I’m sorry. Give me a chance to prove that I’m not entirely a cad and an imbecile.”

“I don’t think you are an imbecile.”

“I note you did not refute the other claim,” he said, with a crooked smile. “Anything you want.”

She gave a frustrated sigh, looking anywhere but directly at him. Her eyes settled on their entwined hands before she met his gaze again. “Anything?”

His eyes narrowed as understanding dawned. “You’re thinking about your damned list, aren’t you?”

“Well, you did request I refrain from completing any other items on the list without your escort.”

“Indeed, I did.”

“I could always ask Oxford…” She trailed off deliberately, coaxing a half laugh from him.

“You are learning to play me quite well, Minx. Fine. We shall complete another item on your list. Which shall it be?”

She thought for a moment, worrying her lower lip. The action served to draw Ralston’s attention away from the conversation for a brief moment, as he considered kissing her to stop the nervous habit. For a moment, he was lost in the memory of the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, the wild abandon with which she met him at every turn. He felt himself harden at the thought, and was mere seconds from taking her mouth again when her lips formed a single word.

“Gambling.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he shook his head as though to clear it. Surely she hadn’t just said—“Gambling?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes. Gambling. In a gentleman’s club.”

He laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Indeed, I am, my lord.”

“You just asked me to smuggle you into Brooks’s, Callie. I think we’re rather past the point where you need stand on titular ceremony.”