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added. “You’ve accomplished a great deal, I understand.”
    He dropped into the chair opposite. “Oh, yes, of course. I got enormously rich. That makes a great difference. Those who shut their doors to me years ago can’t open them fast enough now. This last year and a half in London has been an education.”
    “You didn’t get rich,” she corrected. “From what I’ve heard, you worked hard for every farthing, and took tremendous risks. Those shipping ventures in Greece, for instance—”
    “It would seem you’ve followed my progress very closely,” he said.
    Despite what he was discovering about her, he still half-expected her to blush. She didn’t. There was a quick flash in her eyes before they chilled to cool blue blanks.
    “Penny’s letters are devoted to the doings of the Greyson family,” she said. “You, however, seem to be her favorite topic, which isn’t surprising, for you seem to be a never-ending source of sensational stories. She’s devoted whole pages to your financial enterprises, and even more ink to your amorous ones. You’ll find me, therefore, well-versed in the Greek ventures, as well as in the height, coloring, wardrobe, and disposition of your last mistress.”
    He sat bolt upright. “How the devil can Penny pretend to know of any such thing, when she only comes to London for two months out of the twelve?”
    “You can’t expect to be so much in the public eye and not have your activities noticed,” she said. “The gossips, naturally, pass their observations on to your sister-in-law.”
    “And she passes them on to you.” He felt terribly exposed, which was ridiculous. He’d done nothing to be ashamed of. Nevertheless, Marcus felt like a boy called to account for some misdeed.
    “Evidently she believes you an interested party,” he said. “Which would seem altogether odd—unless, of course, she’d somehow learned of what passed between us long ago.”
    Her chin went up. “You hadn’t used to be so roundabout. Are you implying that I told her?”
    “It’s nothing to me if you did,” he said. “Girls generally boast of their conquests, just as men do.”
    “Then perhaps you’ll allow me to wonder whether you boasted to Julius. That would also account for their believing me an interested party.”
    “I never told a soul,” he snapped. “Men don’t usually boast of being played for fools.”
    “I never played you for a fool, Marcus Greyson.” Her eyes were flashing now, blue fire. “And I can’t believe a grown man of four-and-thirty could believe such a stupid thing.”
    “Stupid?” He clenched his fists.
    “I was eighteen years old. It was the first time I’d been out of my little village, my first time in anything like Society. What in heaven’s name could I have known of such games? Where could I have learned them?”
    “Women are born knowing that game.”
    “Then I must have been born wrong, because I didn’t.”
    “Then what were you about?” he demanded. “You were as good as engaged to Travers—practically since birth, I was told—yet you let me—”
    “Indeed—and what were you about?”
    He couldn’t find the answer. He knew he had one, because he always did. Argument was as natural to him as breathing. But the retort he needed was stuck somewhere, and while he tried desperately to locate it, his eyes were busy too. They were taking in the blue sparks in her eyes and the flush of anger in her smooth cheeks—and its faint sister flush below, where her bosom rose and fell with her quickened breathing... where the diamond quivered, flashing fire.
    Her slim white hand moved to shield her breasts from his stare. Ineffectually.
    “I don’t remember.” His voice was foggy, dazed. Tearing his gaze away, Marcus shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about that episode after all these years. I can’t believe you are arguing. I can’t believe you’re wearing that gown. How can you possibly expect me to argue