demurely lowered lashes. ‘My thanks.’
But then, suddenly, his eyes flashed with anger and he sprang towards her. ‘By God, you impudent wench,’ he roared, ‘is there no end to your trickery?’
He’d grabbed her by the arm, and with his free hand was grasping at the deep pockets of her nightdress. And Tassie realised with horror that he had seen, outlined against the fine lawn fabric, the little silver mirror and the gilt scent phial that she’d hidden there. She grabbed for them at the same time he did, but she was too late, and as he scooped the precious objects into his hands, Tassie dived instinctively for the door.
A futile attempt. Thrusting the objects on to a nearby table, he hauled her back, and she was overpowered by the sheer masculine force of him. He was breathing hard as he fought her into submission: every plane and angle of his lean face seemed carved in granite, and there was a dangerous light in his eyes. ‘You little thief!’ he exploded. ‘How could you steal from Caro, who has made you a welcome guest in her house?’
She cursed her survivor’s instinct to take what she could, born of years of hardship. Trying vainly to still the wild beating of her heart, Tassie gazed up at him with despairing defiance. ‘I didn’t know this was her house, did I?’
‘Even so, this goes beyond all bounds.’
‘And so do you, you’re a bully and a—a prig!’ she declared, taking refuge in attack. ‘You’ve no right to keep me here against my will, no right at all, and you will let me go, this minute!’
He shrugged, and to Tassie’s surprise, a slow smile started to soften his features as he gazed down at her. He spread his hands wide. ‘Playing the street minx again? I’m not stopping you.’ A positively wicked grin curved his mouth. ‘But you’d not be wise to go out on the streets looking like that, I assure you.’
Bewildered by his sudden change of heart, still breathless from her outburst, Tassie followed the raking line of his hard grey eyes and looked down at herself. To her utter dismay, she realised that in the struggle for the trinkets, the laces that fastened the neck of her nightgown had come undone, leaving her bosom completely exposed. He was watching her with cynical amusement, and she gave a horrified gasp and tried to pull the fabric back across her throat. But her fingers fumbled with the unaccustomed laces, giving him time to lazily reach out his hand and brush his palm across her pink-tipped breasts; and as her nipples pulled and tightened to his touch, Tassie felt a sensation flood through her so strongly that she could scarcely stand. Like his kiss, only—only…Her breasts ached almost unbearably, and her stomach churned with dark longing. She tried to back away, but her legs were weak; she was struggling for control, yet felt quite helpless as his long fingers toyed with those incredibly sensitive crests.
And Marcus, too, was shaken. God, but she was beautiful, this girl! Common thief she might be, but she was also a young woman, and all that any man could desire; that was why the heat seared his flesh and pounded between his thighs. Watch yourself, Marcus, he warned himself. Douse that flame at your loins, man, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Aloud he drawled, ‘A tempting doxy, indeed, in spite of that hot temper! Well played, my resourceful vagabond. You certainly know how to distract your opponent when caught in the wrong, don’t you? But you should take care, you know. Not every man would react to your teasing with such restraint.’
Tassie almost groaned with shame. He thought she’d revealed herself to him deliberately! Desperately she tried to push him away, but he knocked her hands aside, then reached with almost dismissive casualness to catch at the laces of her nightgown and proceeded, with those same long, sensitive fingers that had just tormented her so wickedly, to tie the laces into perfect bows across her throat. Tassie slapped at him blindly, overwhelmed by his nearness. ‘Get your hands off me,’ she faltered. ‘Or I’ll—I’ll…’
Marcus was in control again. An iron self-control he’d learned in battle. Obediently he took a step backwards and admired his handiwork. ‘You’ll what, minx? Call for the constables?’
Tassie, white-faced, let her gaze swing towards the door; Marcus quickly moved to block her path. ‘Oh, no. No escape that way, my dear. At least—not before I’ve informed you of a proposition I’ve got in mind for you.’
Tassie pulled herself together with an effort. ‘Indeed?’ she flashed back. ‘A proposition? And there was I thinking you’d already made several! Let me go now; give me back my clothes, or I’ll tell that kind lady, Caro, that you’ve tried to kidnap me!’
He smiled, his teeth white and even in the shadowy light of the fire. ‘Just as I could tell her you’re a thief. Save your histrionics for the low-class dives of Covent Garden, Tassie. Yes, I know your name; Caro told me. Let me repeat that I’m not in the market for light-fingered doxies.’ She flinched again; he pressed on. ‘But you do happen to have several qualities in which I am interested. Firstly, you’re obviously an expert at all forms of trickery—cards, thievery, and so on. Secondly—you’re rather a good little actress, aren’t you? I’ve noticed how quickly you’re able to switch from ranting hussy to poor, beleaguered innocent, from spouting street cant to quite respectable English. Tell me, where did you learn to speak so well when you’ve a mind to it?’
Her heart thudded again, but she tilted her chin defiantly. ‘Why, sir, it just comes natural to me!’ she declared, putting her hands on her hips and deliberately adopting her ripest city slang. ‘Anyone can speak proper when they choose!’
‘That I take leave to doubt. But now I’ll move on to my third point. You, as I see it, are in deep trouble. You stole my wallet, and were cheating at the Angel; by rights you should be locked up in Newgate. Not a pretty prospect, as I’m sure you’ll agree.’
Tassie did agree. She’d heard about Newgate, and the very thought of being inside that foul place made her feel quite sick. ‘I thought you were talking about a proposition,’ she said in a low voice. ‘But it sounds more to me like some kind of threat. And I warn you, if you turn me in I’ll deny everything!’
He said evenly, in a voice that made her shiver, ‘You could try. But I would advise against it.’ He took a few uneven paces round the room, and paused eventually with one hand on the mantelpiece, and his booted right foot on the fender. The firelight flickered over his lean, vivid face and made sparks appear to dance in his disturbing grey eyes. ‘Let me take you to the heart of the matter. There is a man in London on whom I wish, very badly, to be revenged. He has several weaknesses, and I intend to attack accordingly. Firstly, he is a gambler, who cannot resist a challenge when the stakes are high. And, secondly, he has a marked liking for pretty women who are skilled at card play.’
‘So I’m ruled out for certain, surely, if you are looking for someone pretty? Since you make it quite clear that I am nothing of the kind!’
She saw a half-smile flicker across his strong mouth—a dangerous, all-male smile. Those weren’t my precise words, minx,’ he softly said. ‘I think, in fact, that you could be very, very pretty.’
She felt the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘You jest with me,’ Tassie said flatly.
‘I assure you, this is no jest.’ No, indeed. His voice, his expression told her he was in deadly earnest. ‘To put it briefly, Tassie, you and I could help each other out, quite considerably.’
Tassie clasped her hands together tightly. ‘So far I’ve gathered that you want me to play cards with your cousin. Sebastian Corbridge.’
She’d taken him by surprise. ‘How on earth do you know his name?’
‘I
