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the Earl of Coventry.
    “It appears I arrived just in time.” His eyes met hers, the glacial intensity momentarily taking her aback. “Tell me, Lady Georgina, what exactly is it that interests you?”

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Gina detested being flustered, especially at the hand of a rogue like Coventry. But the telltale heat rose high in her cheeks, and her pulse quickened. And worse, for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything witty to say. So rather than pretend she hadn’t been talking about him, she owned up to her distinctly unmaiden-like curiosity.
    “I was going to ask your sister why you avoided society, but it seems I spoke too hastily.”
    He quirked a brow. Clearly, she’d surprised him with her candidness. “On the contrary, I don’t avoid society. I simply find some society more entertaining than others.”
    Gina’s blush grew hotter. The type of society he referred to was obvious—and it didn’t include her. As he came closer, a strong whiff of port filled her nose. She’d noticed the slur in his speech and a slight glaze in his eyes. The wastrel was foxed and still getting the better of her—a fact that infuriated her to no end.
    “I do not believe we have been properly introduced,” she said stiffly, standing from her place on the divan. Sitting, she decided, had put her at a distinct disadvantage; it made him seem to loom over her. Though admittedly, standing didn’t much help. He stood at least a foot over her five feet three inches.
    “Our paths have crossed before.”
    “Have they?” She feigned nonchalance, but he saw right through the ruse.
    “Once or twice,” he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes.
    Spectacular clear blue eyes, she couldn’t help but notice. The wretch was even more handsome up close, though in a decidedly unconventional manner. He was too tall for one. And far too broad and muscular. His thick, wavy dark hair was longer than was considered fashionable, and slightly tousled, as if he’d just raked his fingers through it. His features were not as finely chiseled as she’d thought, but rougher—more masculine than truly classical. And to go along with a couple of small scars on his cheek, his nose crooked slightly to one side, giving him a definite disreputable air. Probably broken in some sordid tavern brawl, she surmised. Her gaze moved to his mouth, his sensually shaped lips curled into a perpetual condescending sneer—as if he knew something she didn’t (as if that were likely). The shadow of a dark beard subtly emphasized his strong, square jaw.
    His evening clothes were well cut, but simple and muted in color with no embellishment. Black trousers, black cutaway jacket and a plain cream waistcoat. Brummel would abhor his cravat, which could at best be characterized as an utter mess. The overall effect was of a man who knew what looked good on him and didn’t bow to society’s dictates. In other words, his appearance matched his attitude: arrogant and indifferent.
    And Gina had to admit, despite what she knew of his character, she found something about him curiously alluring. What had made this man who appeared to have so much, disdain everything around him? Was he simply cruel or merely unhappy? Or perhaps both? Perhaps learning the answer to that question would be the key to unlocking the mystery of Lord Coventry, and be the key to her success.
    “I thought…,” Lady Augusta stammered nervously. Then collecting herself, she said, “Lady Georgina Beauclerk, may I present my brother, Lord Coventry.”
    Gina felt sorry for the poor girl. From the way she twittered and blushed, Gina could tell that she was very concerned with impressing her brother, but he appeared to take scant notice of her.
    “My lord,” Gina said primly.
    “My lady,” he mimicked, with a polite little bow. “Such frightful formality considering that I have already been the subject of rather marked ‘interest’ tonight.”
    Perhaps his attempt to embarrass her further