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of his business what I did or whom I did it with anyway.” She gave them both a challenging look.
    Like hell it wouldn’t be , Nicholas thought, but he admired the way she lifted her chin and dared them to say otherwise. It was a double standard—he knew that—but it existed. Men liked promiscuous women; they just rarely married them.
    She went on in a reasonable tone, as if they weren’t sitting in a tawdry inn somewhere discussing a planned illicit rendezvous based on a drunken bet. “Since I am a widow, I am allowed a great deal more freedom. No one would ever think I would do such a thing anyway.”
    “I wouldn’t have,” Nicholas agreed wryly, speculating on just how ineffectual her deceased husband must have been in performance of his husbandly duty. He’d known the former Lord Wynn only in passing, and he’d seemed pleasant enough as an acquaintance. But then again, how males treated their casual friends and how they regarded their wives were often two different matters.
    “Maybe you really know nothing about me, Your Grace.”
    She might have the delectable appearance of Venus incarnate, but it had never occurred to him the sensuality to match might simmer under that tempting exterior. The Northern ice cap was rumored to be warmer than Lady Wynn.
    “I concede I don’t.” His gaze held hers.
    Her unique eyes reflected a flicker of uncertainty as they looked at each other and the moment held for a long heartbeat. And then another.
    Oh yes, he was intrigued.
    “Thank you for acknowledging it,” she said without any inflection at all.
    But those expressive eyes were something else altogether. He knew when he affected a woman and this seemed to be one of those situations.
    With the standoffish Lady Wynn? How damned interesting.
    Derek interjected, “If we are to never reveal your identity, my lady, explain to me how you are ever going to settle the contest.”
    She gave a small nod, as if she’d expected the question. “I have it all thought out. With your endorsement, I’ll publish the results in the society column of the paper, under the cloak of anonymity, of course. Since my name will be left out of it, I will be comfortable writing down my frank thoughts.”
    That statement was alone enough to evoke the same spirit of combativeness that had gotten them into trouble in the first place, but since Derek didn’t blink an eye, Nicholas also contrived to look bland.
    “Fine,” they said in unison, and then glanced at each other with mutual male annoyance.
    She laughed with delightful spontaneity, lighting up her already very lovely face and adding animation to those haunting eyes.
    Damn, she was a very tempting prospect. If they really were going to go through with this, Lady Wynn was a captivating candidate. It was common opinion that she was a true beauty, her heavy, lustrous hair framing a delicate face with high cheekbones, a straight small nose, and a soft pink mouth, her unusual eyes long-lashed and large. The fact she was built with willowy grace, her body curvaceous yet slender, was something plenty of men had noticed and commented on. The fullness of her breasts under the bodice of her fashionable gown drew Nicholas’s eye.
    Derek apparently wasn’t blind either. His friend murmured, “You sound as if you have made up your mind, Lady Wynn.”
    “That depends.” She adjusted a fold in her dark emerald silk skirt, the hue of her gown a complement to her vivid coloring. “How would we work this exactly? We will have to be extremely discreet.”
    She truly was sincere, Nicholas decided, his initial resistance to the idea gone.
    And he was damned interested.
    It had been a while since that had happened. Lady Wynn was a fascinating young woman. Since her persona had always been distant and cold, not at all what he sought in a lover, he’d never considered her in any context, especially the one they were currently discussing. He spoke without thinking. “Give us each a week of your