The Price of Temptation Read online

  Reid’s grimace spoke volumes. He could not gain her entry. “Very well. If it will take more time, I expect you to keep me apprised.”

  She blew out a breath, the constriction around her chest easing. “That, I can do.”

  He resumed walking, but she tightened her hold on his arm and held him still. “Reid, there is something else you should know…”

  He didn’t look at her. “What is that?”

  She swallowed thickly. “My…” She didn’t want to claim Adam as her husband, not after the way he had abandoned her. She swallowed and tried again. “Adam is in town. He is more proficient with this sort of thing, and I’ve sought out his expertise. I thought… I thought you’d want to know.”

  When Reid turned to her, all semblance of his affability disappeared. He pierced her with a gaze that could have frozen the Thames. “Is he necessary?”

  She licked her lips. “I’ve never stolen before. I fear he is.” When she couldn’t meet his gaze any longer, she dropped her attention to the shiny buttons on his waistcoat. Her tongue stuck to the top of her dry mouth.

  “Don’t let him fool you again.”

  Reid’s voice was so soft, it scarcely reached her ears. She trembled with the emotion welling inside her. She slept mere feet away from a man she loathed, a man who had hurt her, and still she couldn’t banish the desire to open the adjoining door and join him. If she succumbed to the intoxicating pleasure of his touch, he would tear her asunder. Again.

  “I won’t. I know better.”

  Slipping the fingers of his cool leather gloves beneath her chin, Reid tilted her head up. His expression mixed earnestness with a vengeful edge. “If he touches you, hurts you…”

  You’ll challenge him to a duel? He might do it, fight for her honor in deed the way he had in word prior to her marriage. He’d warned her away from Adam from the beginning, but she hadn’t listened. But if he set down such a challenge, she had no doubt that one or both men would die. Both had done terrible things to her, but she didn’t want them dead.

  “Trust me, I won’t let Adam get the upper hand again.”

  For a moment, Reid hesitated, as though he wanted to say something more. When he spoke, it wasn’t to protest. “In that case, I’ll take my leave of you. Let me walk you to your sisters. And send word when you contact Lord Granby.”

  …

  The bookshop’s wide window, piled high with books on velvet pillows, faced onto the street. Despite standing in front of a bookshelf crammed with books, Adam hadn’t paid mind to the titles since Lily had walked out of sight with that cad. Every muscle in his body was on edge. What if Chatterley hurt her? Adam should be out there, protecting her.

  Chatterley needed her to perform his misdeeds, and Adam had made himself indispensable. But that manipulator could easily turn her against Adam. Did Chatterley want Lily for himself? It was a question Adam had never been able to answer, not even four years ago when they’d been close friends.

  More importantly, what claim did Adam want to make? She was his wife.

  Yes, but she wasn’t the same woman he’d married. She’d changed. What if he fought for her only to discover they no longer suited? She loathed him for his part in what had happened, but…

  She was his wife.

  His chest ached from alternately holding his breath and forcing himself to breathe during the interminably long minutes she was away. She’d known he waited in the bookshop, where he could keep an eye on the proceedings in case Chatterley overstepped himself. And still, she’d led the man away. The look she’d cast in his direction before doing so informed him beyond the shadow of a doubt that the act had been deliberate.

  Although Chatterley’s demeanor had been friendly, perhaps even playful, when they’d strolled out of sight, by the time they returned, he menaced over Lily. He wore a cold expression like he did his jacket, an adornment meant for the lady at his side. She looked no happier to be in his company. How had his temper turned so foul? Adam’s stomach threatened to turn itself inside out.

  You’re being fanciful.

  Perhaps he was. On a crowded street with all of Mayfair as his witness, Chatterley couldn’t have laid a hand to her.

  But what had he said?

  As the man lifted his attention toward the bookshop, Adam turned his back. He forced himself to walk down the aisle, pretending to peruse the shelves which could have held tinderboxes rather than books for the note he took of them. His mouth was as dry as ash. He strained his ears over the rustle of footsteps and paper from the few other patrons in the shop. At last, the door opened, a yawning sound accompanied by the volley of voices from the street beyond.

  But had Lily entered—or Chatterley?

  In the corner of the shop, he stopped and tried to read the volumes. Those that didn’t have titles embossed on the spines, he pulled out and stared at the covers. It didn’t help to occupy him, but it provided him with some measure of invisibility.

  Footsteps approached, ending at his elbow. “Are you reading that?”

  Lily. The knot of tension between his shoulders loosened. She was by his side again, close enough to protect. He arched an eyebrow, drumming his fingers along the leather-bound cover in time to his heartbeat. “Of course.”

  She smirked. “Then why are you holding it upside down?”

  He glanced at the volume, poetry by his estimate, and slammed it back onto the shelf.

  She raised her eyebrows. “You were spying on me.”

  “You led him out of sight.” Unlike her words, which were teasing, he bit his off like unpalatable morsels. They tasted of rancor.

  Taken aback, her playful mien disappeared. In its place, she was as hard and glittering as one of the jewels she carved. “I had to. He wanted to bring me in here. He would have seen you. I had…”

  Adam braced himself for her excuse. That she had no other choice.

  Softly, she said, “I had to tell him about our situation first. I owe him that much.”

  Adam swallowed bile. Him, she considered the devil. But she owed Chatterley, who was at this very moment blackmailing her into stealing an artifact he had willingly sold. For a man with no history with manipulation, Chatterley was a master.

  “And did you?”

  As Lily tilted her head back to look at him, her lips thinned. “I did.”

  Adam arched his eyebrows. “I take it he wasn’t pleased.”

  “He never was.” She hesitated, half turning away before she admitted, “Before our wedding, he begged me not to marry you.”

  Adam’s muscles tightened. Why would she confess this now?

  “Did he offer to marry you instead?”

  Lily wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be absurd. We’ve known each other since we were children. He was concerned for my well-being—like he would be for a sister.”

  “If I had a sister, I would die before I forced her to risk her life and reputation to appease me.”

  Lily’s mouth slackened. He was right and she knew it.

  “Are you finished? My sisters will come looking for us soon.”

  “Nearly,” he lied.

  “What are you searching for?”

  Adam bit back the urge to answer glibly. He reached out his hand, capturing hers, needing the contact between them. When she stiffened, he laid her hand on his sleeve and started to stroll down the rows of books. “We told Lord Ednam that you were a scholar.”

  “You did…”

  She sounded dubious, perhaps even regretful. Fortunately, Adam had a plan.

  “Now, we must prove it.”

  She looked up at him incredulously. “But I am no scholar.”

  Grinning, he leaned forward and tapped the tip of her nose. “Yet. Come, help me find as many scientific journals that reference Egypt as you can. Napoleon returned from Egypt a few years back, so the ones from 1801 o
r 1802 should be plentiful.”

  From her puzzled expression, she still didn’t have confidence in him, but she would. A tingle of anticipation swept through him. Wooing her good opinion of him might prove the most worthwhile challenge of his life.

  With her eyebrows drawn together, she looked the most adorable woman in the world. Not that he would dare venture his opinion.

  “How will journals help? Surely you don’t expect me to read them all. I haven’t the time and—”

  His smile widened. “Have faith in me, darling. Reading them will help you gain confidence regarding the subject matter, but for the time being all we need are the journals.”

  …

  They returned home with an armful each. Although Lily didn’t fully understand why they had collected them all, she followed his direction as he led her through the house to the kitchen. There, they barred the door from the prying eyes of her sisters and set to work.

  Scientific journals were not the only items purchased today. Oddly enough, Adam had insisted on purchasing a half dozen lemons during their return home. As he set the bag on the table wedged into the corner, he asked for a lemon squeezer.

  Frowning, she searched the cupboard until she found it. When she dropped it onto the table in front of Adam, he had already shucked off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and helped himself to a kitchen knife. He deftly sliced a lemon in two.

  “Are you craving something sour to drink?”

  The unexpected grin he flashed her made her weak in the knees. She’d never been able to resist him when he was brimming with confidence. Half dressed, with his tan forearms on display, she had difficulty recalling that they were not friends. If not for this mad endeavor, they would have no contact with each other at all.

  “They’re for the journals.”

  His answer, as much as the reminder of their task, sobered her. Then she frowned. “How?”

  He winked. “Are you certain you’d like to know?”

  His words transported her five years ago, to the night they’d met. He’d been debonair and charming and sinfully mysterious. Even speaking to a man like Adam, particularly when they hadn’t been formally introduced, had felt like a wicked thrill. And the way he’d looked at her…

  He still looked at her that way. His eyes dark with promise, his expression hungry. He fooled you then. Don’t let him fool you now. Without realizing it, she’d swayed close enough to touch him. He breathed shallowly, his attention on her mouth. A lock of hair tickled the corner of her eye. Gently, perhaps even reverently, he tucked it behind her ear.

  His touch sent tingles along her skin. So much time had passed since he’d touched her. Too long.

  In a low, throaty voice, she whispered, “I want to know.”

  It was the same answer she’d given him the day they’d met, when he’d introduced her to a spiderweb of intrigue and gray morals. As then, the same pleased smile he gave her warmed her from the inside out.

  He is a confidence man. This is what he does.

  Despite her certainty, she couldn’t suppress a frisson of delight. She hadn’t felt this alive in years. Not since she’d shouldered the burden of responsibility for her family.

  “The lemon juice will dissolve the ink in the journals. We’ll have to apply it carefully, so it doesn’t degrade the paper. Once it dries, we’ll replace the names of select authors with yours. How skilled are you at forgery?”

  Lily let out an exasperated breath. “How skilled do you think?”

  “Brilliant.”

  She frowned. “Then you’re mad. When would I have forged anything?”

  The corners of his mouth tipped up, a smile of pure masculine pride. “You can spy a crack in a gemstone without your monocle. The same detail applies to handwriting. If only you tried, I wager you’d be able to emulate it flawlessly.”

  His conviction warmed her. When had someone last expressed such confidence in her? Day after day, she battled men who underestimated and outright dismissed her skill, due to her gender. But Adam… Adam had always professed blind faith in her abilities.

  Perhaps it was why she’d fallen in love with him.

  “I haven’t tried.” Her voice was small, far more vulnerable than she’d felt in years. If she made the attempt and failed…

  Adam didn’t even seem to consider such a possibility. “We’ll fetch a piece of paper for practice.”

  “And if it looks wrong?”

  His expression softened, and he lifted one shoulder. “If you aren’t confident after practicing, I’ll try my hand at it.” His demeanor as much as his lackadaisical tone conveyed his doubt at having to perform the task himself.

  He still thought her capable of seizing the world. Afraid to shatter the illusion, she whispered her next question. “What will the forgery solve?”

  His smile took on an edge. “Why, we’ll have proof of your scholarly deeds. Then all we’ll need to do is place these journals in Lord Ednam’s library. On Tuesday, when we attend the mummy unveiling, I’ll direct attention to one of the journals. Once they see your name, your persona will be validated.”

  “And then?” The words barely left her lips. She was so close to him now that the rise and fall of her chest brushed against his lapels. She should move away. But his warmth was as seductive as his faith in her.

  He grinned. “Then the game begins.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lily trembled from her seat on the park bench overlooking Lord Ednam’s townhouse. He lived on the cusp of Mayfair, an affluent neighborhood like the one she lived in, just bordering the theater district. Carriages trundled down the street, landaus and phaetons pulled by matched teams and smartly dressed drivers. Young ladies strolled to and from the park accompanied by chaperones. Lord Ednam did not appear to have any children, for the only people who stopped at his lofty stucco townhouse were visitors. Having waited on or near this very bench for the better part of two hours, Lily had grown intimately familiar with the house and the surrounding area. She felt as though she’d grown up here instead of several streets and a wall away in a different district.

  All of this was to Adam’s design. His methods had changed little in the four years they had been parted. He still preferred to gather far too much information before he made an initial move. In this case, he wanted to ensure that the master of the house had gone out to the club or on business before he entered.

  “There he goes. That’s my cue.”

  He turned to Lily, his focus intense as he took her hand in his. To others, they likely looked like lovers, and he might have been confessing a most violent devotion. The reality was far removed.

  “Do you recall what you must do?”

  Lily licked her lips. “I’m to provide a distraction for the staff.”

  He nodded. “And how will you do that?”

  “I’ll turn my ankle outside the house and call for help. When someone rushes to my aid, I’ll ask to be brought inside, away from prying eyes, before I take off my stocking.”

  Adam nodded in satisfaction. A smile broke across his face. “You’ll do smashingly, Lily. I know you will.”

  Although a large part of her wanted to accept his praise and relinquish the more difficult task to him, Lily hesitated. “Are you certain you ought to be planting the journals in the library? Reid asked me to perform this task, not you.”

  The pride in his eyes banked to simmering anger. His expression hardening, he stood, casting a long shadow over her. She shivered.

  “I vowed to help you, Lily. You have no experience being a thief and a greater chance to be caught.”

  Lily pursed her lips as she craned her neck back to meet his shaded gaze. “I didn’t know you’ve dabbled in burglary.”

  He was good at shielding his expression, but she’d always flattered herself able to perceive his true feelings despite the masks he wore. Not to
day. She swallowed hard and accepted his hand to stand.

  “Keep the staff occupied for as long as you can. I’ll be quick about it, but I’ll need your help.”

  Lily drew in a steadying breath and nodded. The look in his eye warned her not to press the matter of the burglary. His methods heretofore had always been cajoling in nature, manipulating his prey into handing him what he desired. To him, it was a game—one to which he wrote the rules. But that had been four years ago. How had he conducted himself since?

  I don’t wish to know.

  The sun broke through the clouds. Rays slanted across her upturned face, warming her despite the chill of foreboding anchored in her bones. She parted from Adam and strode briskly up the street, examining every person she passed. A gardener at one house busily trimmed the hedges. The street sweeper brushed the cobblestones with swift, brisk movements, a rhythmic pounding to match his tuneless hum. Carriage wheels rattled in conjunction with the clop of horses’ hooves as a hackney turned the corner. Lily gauged the distance between the hackney and Lord Ednam’s house across the street. That will do.

  She darted across the road into the horse’s path, so close she felt the breath of the nearest beast as it snorted its irritation at being brought up short. Its fellow reared on its hind legs as the driver sawed desperately at the reins. Lily swallowed an irrational fear as the steed pawed at the air viciously. Heart in her throat, she dodged the hooves and staggered to the side with a shriek. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her leg, despite not having injured herself.

  Yesterday, Adam had practiced weeping with her. She still wasn’t able to draw enough moisture for her eyes to trail tears down her cheeks, but when she widened them and turned them into the breeze, her eyes watered. She carefully didn’t blink, afraid to dispel the moisture before her ruse was complete.

  Cursing the air blue, the driver hopped from his seat and hurried to her side.

  “Madam! Madam, what were you thinking? Are you hurt?”

  She shied from him, sobbing under her breath and clutching at her leg. “My leg. It’s…”