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truly remarkable woman.

He'd respected her for a year now, but she had led a pampered life and retained a streak of childish willfulness that was undesirable. He'd wondered how she'd behave when truly tested.

Today he'd found out.

Magnificently.

She'd faced danger coolly at his side. She'd killed for him. She hadn't foolishly made a fuss over it.

Last year she'd stirred his interest with her bold challenge to him, and even more with her victory, but he was not a man to be pulled into folly by an intriguing young woman. In the past few days, however, she'd shown she was his match in every area. She'd amused and alarmed him with her quick wit and understanding, her boldness and courage, her problems and needs.

Then she'd teased that dangerous kiss. Their kiss. Still, he'd remained in control. Not seriously threatened. Until tonight.

Unique.

Shattering.

Forbidden.

He looked at the multifaceted blue stone on his finger. Part of her gaudy armor against the world. It was a pledge ring, he knew, not just of affection but of protection. A bond of mutual loyalty and trust.

Putting the ring to his mouth, he looked at her, recognizing that here, unexpected and unwanted, lay his mate.

No, not unwanted, but impossible.

Sappho had said he was incomplete, that now his family was cared for, he had a void. No. She'd said that the void had always been there, covered by other demands. Other passions.

It had seemed nonsense, but now he saw that as usual, she was right. Unsuspected, he hungered for closeness, love, and intimacy. His siblings had not been a duty, but a necessity, and their needs had allowed him to resist marriage.

But now he faced temptation unprotected.

He had called her "love." Twice. He hoped she hadn't noticed.

Too late he saw how much wiser it would have been to have avoided this. He should have sent her back to her room.

He could even have brought her in, plied her with port, soothed her agitated nerves, and sent her back to bed.

Instead he had given in to the hungers burning inside himself, hungers he'd lived with for days now, thinking they were safe. That he would be, as always, in control of the machine.

Hubris, with predictable results.

A need as raw, as painful, as skinless flesh.

For protection, he left the bed and pulled on his clothes again, trying to recreate barriers, to cloak the pain. At the same time, he struggled to rebuild the guards around his mind.

This was all a result of peril and proximity. It would fade when he was back in normal days. Tomorrow they would arrive in London, and Diana would attend the Queen's Drawing Room. From there, she would move into the Queen's House. He would see her only briefly and in company.

They'd be late arriving in town, though. An excuse to put off her presentation for a few days -

Folly. The sooner she was within court circles the better. If all went well, she would return north within weeks, and they need never meet again. He would regret not being able to visit Brand at Wenscote, but it was necessary.

What if Diana returned to London for pleasure one day?

Then he would travel elsewhere. Paris was open to him again. Or he could go north when she came south. He laughed to himself at the folly of such a silly dance, but it would be the only way.

He closed his eyes for a moment, not trying to deny the pain. For him, and for her. Pain, however, was part of life. Fear of it did not govern an honorable man.

And in time, even the worst hurt faded and became bearable.

In shirt and breeches, he climbed onto his side of the bed but lay beneath only the coverlet, separated from her by sheet and blanket. He was unable to resist turning toward her, however.

As if sensing him, she rolled to face him, still asleep, and her arm reached out beneath the covers. Finding nothing, it stilled and she sank back into deep sleep.

He resisted the urge to kiss those parted lips, but lay watching her until, at last, the candle drowned in wax, and darkness brought him rest.

Chapter 17

Diana awoke in a state of peace and pleasure that turned to momentary confusion. Because someone had just kissed her.

She blinked up.

The marquess.

Bey.

She smiled and tried to untangle her arms to reach for him, but he stepped back. "It's nearly dawn. We must get you back to your room."

Instantly she recognized that the guards were fully in place. Wiser so,