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time.”
    Derek turned to look at him, a glimmer of open surprise in his eyes at the time period suggested.
    A week?
    Where the impulsive suggestion had come from, Nicholas wasn’t sure, but he did feel one night with the beautiful woman sitting across from them would not be enough. The mystery of why she’d do something so unexpected both jolted him and drew him in. Nicholas shrugged and smiled. “I’m sure you’ll agree lovemaking is a varied world. Getting to know your partner is also beneficial. A week in each other’s company, in and out of bed, seems logical for a fair conclusion.”
    Whatever Lady Wynn expected, it obviously wasn’t that. She seemed nonplussed for a moment, but then she nodded slowly. One loose ringlet of coppery hair brushed the ivory column of her neck and he watched it slide along her smooth skin with almost unwilling fascination. She said, “I suppose if I have come this far, I can agree to that. I’ll come up with some excuse to be gone that amount of time.”
    Excellent.
    An outburst from a small quarrel between some of the extremely questionable patrons in the taproom echoed around the room, along with a few rough words not meant for a lady’s ears, but she didn’t blink an eye.
    Yes, her poise was remarkable.
    “I have a small country estate in Essex.” Nicholas tried to remember the last time he’d been there, and failed. When he retired to the country, he went to the much larger family seat in Kent. The smaller holding had been part of his inheritance, and it sat empty except for the minimal staff there to maintain it. “It’s tucked into the countryside not near any towns in particular, but rather pretty and quiet if I recall, and close enough to London we wouldn’t have to travel for days. It should be perfect for a quiet, discreet retreat.”
    A week with a woman he didn’t even know was more than impulsive; it was downright irrational. Usually a night here and there was plenty, his detachment legendary because his transitory relationships did not demand anything but passing amusement. He didn’t keep a mistress, because he just didn’t need one. Any number of ladies would oblige him on very short notice and he took for granted that if he wanted female companionship, he could have it whenever he wished.
    However, an insidious voice whispered in his head, Lady Wynn’s untried status in the art of sexual enjoyment made her more captivating than most. He wasn’t interested in deflowering some virgin, but she wasn’t one, and her dazzling beauty and delicate femininity overrode his sense of caution over the knowledge she was still young and very desirable on the marriage mart.
    She’d stated clearly she didn’t wish to marry again, and he believed her; the conviction in her tone unmistakable.
    A week of initiating her into the pleasures of the flesh sounded like quite a pleasant distraction from his busy schedule. Parliament was out right now and he could let his steward know how to reach him. . . .
    Yes, he thought, studying the sensual fullness of her lower lip, the swell of ivory flesh above the bodice of her low-cut evening gown, the faint color in her cheeks as she blushed at his overt appraisal. A week would probably be easy enough to endure in her company.
    She blushed. How remarkable. Coarse words didn’t do what one look could.
    “Are we agreed?” He set aside his wineglass and lifted a brow in question.
    “I suppose I can find a similar place.” Derek nodded. He lounged in his chair, also gazing at their beautiful companion as if he approved in full measure. “As long as Lady Wynn understands the implications of what would happen to her reputation should we be discovered. Neither of us will ever breathe a word, but attempted discretion is not infallible.”
    Caroline Wynn glanced away for a moment, and her mouth tightened. Then she looked back and squared her slender shoulders. “Naturally, I am not anxious for a scandal, but if it happens, it will be