The Lover

It was obvious that some urgent business had brought her to London, and he was highly curious to know what it was. He was even more interested to see if any remnant of the fire that had once blazed between them still existed.

He kept his gaze fixed on her, and was gratified to see how she froze when she looked up and saw him.

Her gray eyes were as large and lustrous as he remembered, like silver smoke, while her features had the stamp of character and intelligence. Not stunningly beautiful perhaps, but with an inviting appeal all the same.

Max bowed to his hostess, Lady Hennessy, but it was Caro he addressed. “Good evening, Miss Evers. I wasn’t certain I would ever have the good fortune of meeting you again.”

She frowned, as if searching her memory. “Do I know you, sir? Oh, yes…Major Leighton, is it not?”

Max feigned a wince. “You wound me, Miss Evers, if you cannot even recall my name.”

She pursed her lips. “Oh, I recall it quite well, Mr. Leighton. How could I not, when the gossip columns are full of your amorous adventures?”

With deliberate gallantry he took Caro’s hand and bent over it, pressing his lips against her gloved fingers, interested to see how she responded.

Not only did she give a start, but when her eyes locked with his, something warm and primitive arced between them. Her gaze flickered lower then, over his mouth, and Max knew for certain that Caro Evers had not forgotten him.

A sharp surge of male satisfaction rippled through him, even though she withdrew her hand coolly.

“Actually I was on my way to find you,” she said. “Thorne asked me to convey his apologies to you. He was called away on sudden business. He regretted”—she glanced pointedly toward the gathering of ladies Max had just abandoned—“having to leave you to the tender mercies of your gaggle of admirers.”

She rose then, speaking directly to Max. “I hope you won’t mind if I excuse myself, Mr. Leighton. I have had a long journey, and I have another long one ahead of me tomorrow.”

She bent and kissed Lady Hennessy’s cheek. “Thank you, my lady. Thorne will be glad that you have released him fro

m his promise.”

The dowager shook her head with mock sternness. “You can’t fool me, my girl. I can see right through him. He wasn’t brave enough to face me, and so he coerced you into pleading his case.”

Caro smiled. “True, but you must admit, you are quite formidable when you get in a high dudgeon.”

She turned to Max, her gaze flickering over him before she nodded toward the cluster of ladies who were still watching him. “Perhaps you should return to your devotees. It is obvious they anxiously await you. Good night, Mr. Leighton.”

Max remained where he stood, staring after her. He had just been dismissed, he realized.

It was a novel experience for him, and one that should have piqued his indignation. But it had the opposite effect—arousing the primitive male urge to chase fleeing prey.

Watching him, Lady Hennessy let out a deep chuckle. “Perhaps you have already discovered that Caro is not like any other normal young lady.”

“Indeed,” Max said wryly.

“She despises balls and all the other trappings of society. I doubt she will come down again this evening.” Her eyes took on a calculating gleam. “But she is staying upstairs in her former bedroom. If you wish to speak to her, you will have to go after her.”

Max curved his mouth in an amused, calculating line of his own. “Thank you, my lady. I have every intention of doing just that.”