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much easier.»
    He picked up a handful of the bills and waved them at her.
    «What are these?»
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    She moved closer to his desk, her expression full of calm
    interest. «They appear to be bills.»
    «They are bills, madam—your bills. When did I give you
    permission to bankrupt me?»
    «You didn’t. And these are only for hats, dresses and
    necessities. You can hardly expect me to walk around London in
    my old country fashions, can you?»
    «I don’t expect you to do anything except go home.»
    She continued to stare at him and then stroked the bodice of
    her gown.
    «Don’t you like this dress?»
    He stared at her fingers, which had moved dangerously close
    to cupping her breast. In truth, she did look different, more
    fashionable, more mature, more desirable... He quashed down
    that thought and frowned.
    «Why the devil should I care about your appearance? It’s not
    as if I want to look at you.»
    Her hand slid lower over the filmy blue muslin, curved over
    her hip and flat stomach, and came back to rest between her
    breasts.
    «It’s made of jaconet muslin with a navy blue sarsenet slip
    beneath. It’s the first of the gowns I have received from Madame
    Wallace and I’m very pleased with it.»
    The blue complemented her hazel eyes, drew his attention to
    them despite himself.
    «So?»
    She smiled and he resisted the desire to smile back. She wasn’t
    a beauty; all her attraction was in the animation of her face, the
    warmth of her smile, the pure enjoyment of life in her eyes. He
    met far more beautiful women than her every day on the street,
    yet he couldn’t help responding to the invitation in her smile, the
    depths of sexual heat he knew it concealed. He scowled.
    «Pack up everything that arrives and send it straight back and
    I’ll make sure to cancel all your accounts.»
    32 / Kate Pearce

    «There’s no need to do that.»
    «There is. Perhaps if you bothered to pay attention to the
    financial affairs of our family, you might realize we can’t afford
    such luxuries.»
    Jane raised her eyebrows at him. «I spend one morning a week
    with your land agent, Mr. Smith, going over the books. I know
    exactly how well the family is doing and how hard you have
    worked to restore the estate.» Her gaze skimmed his dark brown
    coat and cream waistcoat. «And having paid attention to the
    books, I haven’t noticed you skimping on your attire or your
    expenditures.» She held out her hand. «If you don’t wish to pay
    my bills, just give them to me and I’ll take care of them myself.»
    As she reached forward, he slammed his palm down over the
    pile of paper. «How do you expect to do that? Even in that
    scanty see-through gown I doubt you’ll make much money
    prostituting yourself.»
    «This gown isn’t scanty and I don’t need to earn money lying
    on my back!»
    Ah, now she was angry, now he had the opportunity to make
    her regret drawing the full force of his attention on her. «Then
    how do you propose to pay your bills? I suppose you could
    always kill me and marry a richer man.»
    «That idea hadn’t occurred to me, but thank you for the
    suggestion.» She raised her chin. «I have money. I’m quite
    capable of paying for my own gowns.»
    «Money I gave you? The pin money I pay you every quarter?
    That is scarcely going to pay for one of the gowns you’ve
    ordered.»
    «I’ve hardly touched that money in the last seven years, so it is
    hardly a pittance, and I’ve been quite successful with my own
    financial investments. Ask Mr. Smith. He is quite proud of me.»
    «You’ve been investing in what exactly?»
    She shrugged. «There’s no need to look so skeptical. I’ve
    invested in the same things you have: consols, canals, shipping
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    cargoes. Mr. Smith has acted as my agent, seeing as there are
    some ridiculous rules about women not being capable of
    transacting business.»
    He sat back so that he could study her flushed face. It was
    never wise to