A Reckless Encounter. Rosemary Rogers

no good to remind Harvey that he had only himself to blame for his lack of coin; gambling whittled away what fortune he had inherited from his mother, while his father, the Baron Leawood, habitually gambled away his own bank account. “You should make wise investments,” he said, “so you can afford her.”

      “What of your shipping investments?” Harvey asked, hazel eyes reflecting the dim glow of a wall sconce that barely lightened the alcove shadows. “Is it true that one of your ships went down with all hands and cargo aboard?”

      “It’s always possible. Nothing is known for certain yet.”

      “Rumor has it that you’re negotiating to purchase a fleet of steamships now that a vessel has successfully navigated the Atlantic. Deuced amazing thing, the powering of ships by steam instead of sail, but efficient enough, I suppose. These iron monsters are said to be safer, more reliable in storms without the weight of top masts and sails, but bloody strange looking.”

      Colter regarded him with a lifted brow. “Where did you hear that rumor?”

      Those negotiations were private, and still not yet completed. It was his own venture, since his father and the board were reluctant to take on any new, unproven mode of transport yet. A foolish failure to seize new opportunity in his opinion. How the hell did Harvey know of it?

      Startled, Harvey shrugged. “It’s just a vague rumor I heard at White’s—or maybe it was Brooks’s. Damned if I can remember who said it or when. Been meaning to ask you about it. Intriguing business, these new inventions, but risky at times.”

      “Any business venture is risky. Without risk, there’s little profit.”

      “And you’re a master at taking risks, old boy.” A faint smile curled his mouth. “A hero with a drawer full of commendations and medals. The risk of investing funds in precarious ventures does not compare.”

      “I never knew you to be so interested in my business affairs, Harvey.” It was said softly, but there was a steely warning beneath the comment that was obvious even to the baronet.

      Harvey shrugged.

      “Not so much interested as intrigued, on an idle basis. You know where my interests lie for the most part. I merely envy your ability to spin gold from straw.”

      Amused, Colter drawled, “It still takes effort on my part to do the spinning, Harvey. Think of something other than cards and drink and your fortunes will change quickly enough. Marry a wealthy widow.”

      “That’s easy enough for you to say, when all you have to do is crook your finger and females flock to you. It’d be simpler to understand if it was only your money, but from the sighs and moans of unrequited love I hear, you’ve something more to offer than mere coin.”

      “Yes. It’s called a title. Women may claim to want only love, but beneath the simpering sighs and fluttering hearts you’ll find a tenacious desire for control. They just cloak it in vows of passion and loyalty.”

      “Cynical bastard, aren’t you.”

      “I prefer to think of it as cautious.”

      “You would, of course, deny any involvement with the luscious Countess D’Argent, for instance? Or the ever so lovely Lady Montravers, neither of whom need another title when they have their husbands’ names and money?”

      Harvey laughed when Colter merely cocked a brow at him, then inclined his head toward the ballroom and said with a meaningful glance, “Here comes one of your former involvements now. It’s time for me to disappear.”

      A whiff of perfume caught Colter’s attention and diverted it to the lovely brunette crossing the foyer.

      “Northington, what a delight to see you again. It’s been far too long.”

      Lady Katherine, daughter of an earl, wife of the earl of Cresswood, glided toward him on an inexorable course, her scent and smile promising pleasant diversions.

      An insatiable lover, Katherine was still a beauty. It had been three years since they’d slept together. The parting had been amicable enough, with both moving on to other partners. Now she was wed to an earl, her goal at last attained.

      “Lady Cresswood,” he said politely, and bowed over the hand she held out to him as if they were the barest of acquaintances.

      She tapped him with her folded fan. “Rogue. Don’t pretend you scarcely know me. I’ve not forgotten former—pleasures—even if you seem to have done so.”

      “I never forget beautiful women or fast horses,” he said with a faint smile, and would have released her hand had she not gripped him tightly in her fingers.

      “Sir John,” she said without looking at Harvey. “How pleasant to see you again.”

      Harvey promptly took his cue. “And you, my lady. Pardon me, if you will, as I see some old friends beckoning me.”

      Katherine didn’t bother to acknowledge his departure, but kept her amber gaze on Colter.

      “It’s been far too long, you wicked scoundrel. Are you avoiding me?”

      “Not you, but I’ve no desire to meet your husband at dawn under the oaks in Hyde Park.”

      She laughed, a throaty sound, her husky voice a purr when she said softly, “Am I not worth risking your life?”

      “Decidedly. But no woman is worth prison.”

      Another playful tap of her fan on his arm, and she released his hand to run her fingers up his sleeve in a light caress. “My my, we do have our preferences straight. What makes you so certain you would kill my husband in a duel? You might—” she leaned close, her breath a warmth against his cheek “—only wound him.”

      “If I’m put to the trouble of meeting a man with weapons, my sweet, I do not leave him alive to try again.”

      “I always said you were a dangerous beast.” She drew back slightly. Excitement gleamed in those amber eyes, a golden glow that couldn’t hide the sheen of barely concealed lust. Many were their nights together when he’d left her bed with claw marks on his back, marks she’d made in the heat of passion until he’d sworn at her, jerked her hands over her head to take her roughly, as she liked him to do. Lady Katherine preferred her sexual encounters to be contests, and bloodletting was expected. He had learned quickly enough to treat her as a whore and not a lady. It heightened her passion.

      Now she leaned even closer, displaying the generous swells of her breasts. She’d rouged her nipples; they were clearly visible beneath the low bodice of her gown, an invitation and promise.

      “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, and he took her hand from his sleeve to bring it to his mouth, lips grazing her knuckles lightly at first, then with his teeth. She drew in a sharp, excited breath.

      “You’ve not had a dearth of admirers in your bed from what I hear, Katherine,” he said, and she pursed her lips in a pretense of pouting.

      “None as formidable as you, Colter. You’re the only man capable of earning my respect.”

      “You mean obedience. Give them a whip to stripe your lovely backside, and they’ll earn your respect quickly enough.”

      “Oh, that’s something to consider.”

      He smiled, a sardonic twist of his mouth. No doubt, Lady Katherine already owned silken whips and ropes and other toys to play the games she liked. She was a feral creature, with tiger eyes and a body made for pleasure, not for the demure social life a title and money required.

      “You’d do well as a bird of paradise,” he drawled. Instead of being insulted, she agreed.

      “I’ve thought of it. If I could manage it without anyone knowing my identity, I swear I’d enjoy it. I’d be the most sought after demimonde in all of England.”

      “I’ve no doubt of that, little cat. But behave yourself here. Eyes and