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woman was fully justified in wanting him dead. He could be a murderer himself, for all Fliss knew of him.
    “That is none of your business.” She stepped abruptly away from his caressing hand. “You are right, it is past time I returned to my own bedchamber.” She still ran the risk of being seen leaving the earl’s room by one of the other guests. But as most of them would also be going to bedchambers they had no right being in, she was not too concerned about that.  
    “Join me for breakfast in the morning.”
    She frowned. “I normally take breakfast in my bedchamber.”
    He gave a grin. “All the better.”
    “That was not an invitation for you to join me.”
    “Then I will make it one.”
    “No—”
    “Yes,” he insisted. “You came to me, Mrs. Randall,” he reminded her again. “And I have no intention of allowing you to leave here until this situation is resolved. To my satisfaction,” he added in a hard voice.
    The implacability of his expression and tone warned Fliss that defying this arrogant earl would prove difficult, if not impossible.

Chapter 5
    “Good morning, Felicity.”
    Fliss’s hand shook so badly when she saw the earl standing in the open doorway of her bedchamber, she was in danger of spilling the tea from the cup she held.
    “Here, let me.” Sin closed the door behind him and crossed the room in three long strides before taking the cup from her shaking fingers. He sat on the side of the bed to replace it on the breakfast tray sitting across her thighs. “You started without me,” he reproved as he helped himself to a slice of buttered toast and bit into it with obvious enjoyment.
    In truth, Fliss had been hoping that the events of the previous evening had all been a bad dream. The advent of Sin Montgomery into her bedchamber with the obvious intention of keeping his promise to join her for breakfast made nonsense of that hope.
    He seemed even bigger in the clear light of morning, most especially so sitting on the side of her bed as if he had every right to be there.
    And maybe he did after the intimacies Fliss had allowed him the previous evening.
    Either way, his presence in her bedchamber was overwhelming, when not even her own husband had ever done such a thing. Stephen had respected her privacy in a way Sin Montgomery made it clear he had no intention of doing.
    This morning, his dark green superfine fitted perfectly across those wide shoulders, linen snowy white beneath a black waistcoat, dark gray pantaloons revealing the muscular strength of his legs, black Hessians shaped to his calves.      
    And listing what he is wearing will not prevent me from being aware of everything else about him.
    Such as the way the sunlight turned his fashionably overlong hair the blue-black of midnight. His face was rugged and handsome: glittering green eyes, sharp cheekbones, aquiline nose, sculpted lips, that square and determined jaw. As for his hands, those large and yet elegant hands that had caressed her naked flesh so expertly the night before, they kept moving in and out of her vision as he continued to raise the toast to his mouth.
    Fliss forced herself to concentrate on the diamond pin nestled within his perfectly arranged neck cloth. “No one calls me Felicity.”
    “Then what should I call you?” His encouraging smile revealed straight and even white teeth.
    Really, was there nothing about this gentleman Fliss could find fault with or dislike? Except for his audacity, of course. “You may call me Mrs. Randall—”
    “Oh-ho, I do not think so.” He rose lithely to his feet to remove the tray from across her knees, placing it on the dressing table before returning to sit beside her. “Good morning, lover,” he murmured as he leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across hers.
    Fliss was so startled by being called this man’s lover and the kiss that she could only stare at him with wide and disbelieving eyes. She could count on one hand the number of times Stephen