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focused solely on Carny. “Your wife is looking for you.”
    Carny flushed, as only the fair and beautiful could, like a child caught playing somewhere he had been told not to.
    “Yes, of course.” He bowed stiffly. “Pray excuse me.”
    Blythe watched him go with a strange feeling. Was it regret? Pity? She couldn’t tell, but she did know that she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to have been caught alone with him. In fact, she didn’t feel much at all where Carny was concerned—not as she thought she ought. She was more nervous at being alone with Devlin.
    “That was very good of you,” she remarked, rising to her feet once she was certain Carny was out of earshot. “To come and rescue your friend like that.”
    His dark gaze was unreadable even though his expression was completely unguarded. “It wasn’t for him.”
    He came to rescue her, then. Part of Blythe rebelled at the thought. Did she look like the kind of woman who needed rescuing? She was strong and capable and completely independent of needing a man’s protection.
    So why did her insides turn all warm and tingly at his simple confession? Why did she feel giddy and—damn it all— feminine when he looked at her like that? As if he were a knight on a charger and she the damsel in distress.
    As she always wanted a man to look at her.
    “Would you like me to escort you downstairs?” His tone was perfectly polite, completely unaware that he was treating her in a manner she was completely unaccustomed to.
    Any man worth his salt would instinctively live up to her expectations. Wasn’t that what he said? Did he realize he had already met one?
    Dear God, if she had any sense she’d run from him as fast as she could. This man would be a danger to her. He could make her wish for foolish things that she had no business wishing for. She knew this, and yet she did not run.
    “I do not think that would be wise.” How calm she sounded, despite the fact that her heart was trying to climb into her throat. “People might talk.”
    He nodded. “I will follow after you then.”
    How far? Just to the drawing room or anywhere she wanted? Oh, it was fanciful, romantic thinking, she knew—the kind of thinking that had gotten her into trouble with Carny—but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking it. Another reason to run screaming.
    She would have to stay away from Devlin Ryland. He was a dangerous man if he could have her feeling a degree of infatuation for him within a day of meeting him. If Blythe knew one thing about the male sex, it was that she had very poor judgment where they were concerned.
    “I will see you in the drawing room then.” Smoothing her skirts, she moved toward the open doorway where he stood inside, like a sentry guarding the entrance to a castle. His gaze was fastened on her face, but Blythe felt it as keenly as if he had examined her from head to toe.
    She stopped beside him and turned, raising her chin to look up at him. For a moment, she savored the sensation, smiling at the puzzlement in his eyes.
    “Earlier today when we met in the stables, you knew I was a woman. How?”
    The right side of his mouth lifted and curved. His dark eyes brightened with a sudden warmth that made Blythe shiver in response. “There could be no mistaking you for anything but.”
    Oh. “Thank you for rescuing me, Mr. Devlin.”
    “Any time, Lady Blythe.”
    As Blythe turned to run— walk —away, she knew in her heart that he meant it.
     
    “Well, what do you think?”
    At first Devlin had been dubious when Miles told him he had the perfect estate in mind for him to buy, but he’d met his friend early that morning, when the sun was still low in the sky and dew clung to the grass, and rode west to where this little piece of heaven was supposedly located.
    Now he was glad for Miles’s tenacity and his taste in architecture. Sitting astride Flynn’s broad back, Devlin surveyed the property sprawled prettily before him. They’d stopped for one