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limit means your answer is near.”
    She started, taken aback by his profound assertion. “Is that a promise?”
    “So I’ve been told.” His forefinger traced the fine line of her jaw. “Let me help you.”
    “I can’t.” She eased away, knowing she must.
    “At least let me see you home.”
    “No. It’s … far.”
    “My carriage is parked just beyond these trees. My driver will take you anywhere you want to go.”
    “No.”
    “Very well, forget the carriage. I’ll walk you home.” He pressed a silencing forefinger to her lips. “I don’t care if it’s ten miles away.”
    “Dustin—please. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t accept it.”
    His fingers captured her chin, those midnight eyes delving deep inside her. “I have one final request, then. A goodnight kiss.”
    “What?”
    His glance fell to her mouth, but he made no move to draw her near. “You don’t have much experience with men, do you?”
    “If you mean romantically, no. None.”
    “I thought not. You’re too honest, too damned refreshing for it to be otherwise.” His hand slid around to cup her nape. “If I promise to let you go immediately thereafter—no questions asked—may I kiss you, Nicole?”
    She searched his face bewilderedly.
    “I realize it’s an outrageous request—outrageous and thoroughly improper—a request I have no right to make. But I’m making it nonetheless. And I want you to say yes.”
    “Yes,” she heard herself whisper.
    Tenderness flashed in his searing, midnight gaze. He framed her face between his palms, lowering his head until his lips brushed hers, once, twice, then settled on them for a slow, warm, exquisitely gentle exploration.
    Nicole sighed, shifting a bit, unconsciously easing closer to the wondrous contact of his mouth.
    He deepened the kiss slightly, molding his mouth to hers, nudging her lips apart to accept the initial penetration of his tongue. She made an inarticulate sound, swarmed by unfamiliar sensations, shivering with the awareness that she hovered on the brink of something new and dark and dangerous.
    Slowly, Dustin raised his head. “Where do you live?”
    The moment shattered, and Nicole leaped to her feet. “I must go. Now.”
    “Just tell me where you live.”
    “No more questions,” she reminded him, backing away. “Your promise, if you recall.”
    Frustration drew his brows into a harsh, dark line. “How will I find you? I want to see you again, dammit.”
    “That’s impossible.” Gathering up handfuls of material, Nicole prayed her customary speed wouldn’t be hindered by her gown. “Thank you for comforting me, Dustin. As you can see, the color has returned to my cheeks. Good night.” She bolted into the darkness.
    “I hope this issue of the Gazette yields some results,” Nicole murmured, dropping into a chair and unfolding the newspaper. “Especially given what I went through to find it.”
    Nick frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was worried sick about you. Next time don’t sprint off like an impulsive filly before you’ve checked to see if what you want is here—at the inn desk, of all places.”
    “An impulsive filly? You sound like Sully.” Nicole flipped through to the ads. “But in this case you’re right. What I did was stupid.”
    “Thank goodness, no harm came to you.”
    Nicole felt hot color suffuse her cheeks—color she carefully hid behind the printed pages. “It never occurred to me to check with the innkeeper to see if he had—” She shot up, nearly knocking Nick over. “Papa! Look at this!” Shoving the newspaper into her father’s hands, she pointed to the first and largest paragraph on the personals page.
    Nick Aldridge: As I’ve been unable to uncover your whereabouts so that we might talk face-to-face, I’m hoping to locate you through this personal. If you’re reading it, come to Tyreham Manor, Surrey, at once to discuss an exclusive retainer. Name your price. The marquis of Tyreham
    With a muttered oath,