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would not be enough for him. Already his cock was stirring beside her, nudging against her hip, wanting another taste of her perfection.

    She looked gravely into his eyes, and he got the uncomfortable feeling he was not looking into the same eyes as before. “I do not think we will ever meet again, Mr. Savage,” she said with a slight smile. “But I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for what you have shown me here tonight.”

    And with that she raised herself off the chair, smoothed down her skirts, and without a backward glance or even a thought for her bloomers lying discarded in the corner, walked out of the door.

Three
    Dominic watched her walk away from him, her hips swaying. Caroline Clemens was full of surprises. So hot and eager, yet so inexperienced in the art of lovemaking. The combination had been a heady turn on, even for him, who prided himself on his coolness and on being impervious to all feminine wiles. If his time in India had taught him nothing else, he had learned how to harness the power of human sensuality, to use it as a tool or as a weapon, but always to keep it under his control and never let it overpower his good sense.
    These few stolen moments with Caroline had come close to destroying the teachings he lived by. She had affected him more powerfully than any woman had before, which made her both infinitely more alluring and infinitely more dangerous than other women. His inexplicably strong attraction to her must be kept tamed so it did not grow so powerful that it broke free of all restraint and devoured everything in its path.
     
    Even though he was sated for now, he surprised himself by not wanting to let her go. She belonged to him, body and soul. His lovemaking had cast all thought of the Captain out of her mind, he was sure of it.

    Yet if so—and he was sure it was so—why was she walking away from him so steadily, not so much as turning her head to gaze after him? Her coolness infuriated him. He wanted to be the cool one, the sensible one, while she burned with a passion for him that she could neither resist nor deny.
     
    Once the door closed behind her, he clambered back into his trousers, smoothed down his clothing and prepared to join the company again. His dalliance with the delectable Caroline notwithstanding, he still had some important matters of business to attend to tonight. Distractions were all very well in their place, but they must not be allowed to interfere with the real business of the day—making money.

    The room was all abuzz with quiet chatter when he rejoined his cronies. Something momentous had clearly happened while he had been otherwise engaged in the conservatory, as practically every woman in the room had gathered together in a tight huddle. The whole lot of them were whispering animatedly at each other, sounding just like sparrows in a tree at sunset.

    He turned to Adam Farrell, a banker who had befriended him when he first returned from India. “What are all the women fussing about?”

    Adam shrugged. “Something about the Clemens girl, I believe.”

    “The Clemens girl?” Not the Clemens widow? It was an odd way of referring to her, but he supposed she was hardly more than a girl.

    “The good-looking blonde in the black dress,” Adam explained. “You must be acquainted with her. I saw you talking to her earlier this evening. You seemed particularly engrossed in the conversation.”

    He shrugged off Adam’s comment. His preoccupation with the delicious Caroline was his own affair. “What about her?”

    “Her father, Isaac Clemens, was a speculator, and not a very good one. He lost everything and then shot himself.”

    “Isaac Clemens was her father? Not her husband?” Damn it, had he been so blinded by lust that his good sense had utterly deserted him? “She was in full mourning. I thought by her dress that she must be his widow.”

    “Clemens was a widower, his wife died some years ago. When he died, the Clemens girl lost the