a white knight riding to her rescue. So I’m willing to pay for your services.” Her voice wavered just a touch. “Money does not seem to be important—you are said to be quite rich. Therefore, I had to think of what else you might want. And… and seeing as you demanded… physical contact for keeping silent about my cutpurse past, it seemed that… sex might be the right enticement.”
A breeze whispered through the twined ivy, and for an instant, Marco was sure he had misheard her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Sex,” she repeated. “I’m offering you my body again in return for your help.” Her gaze rose to meet his. “Those are the terms. Do we have a deal?”
“Let me make sure that I understand,” said Marco slowly. “You are offering yourself to me, to do with what I will, in return for my sleuthing skills?”
“I’m not expecting any declarations of affection, if that is what you are worried about,” replied Kate coolly. The ice, however, did not quite reach her eyes. “And I won’t fall into a fit of megrims when you come to collect your payment.”
She looked so pale and vulnerable standing there, trying to appear a hard-bitten woman of the world. Guilt lanced through him at the thought that she believed life—and he—was so callous.
“Good God, I am a lecher and a libertine, Kate. But I am not Lucifer Incarnate,” he said softly. “Only the Devil himself would take advantage of you in such a way.”
The tiny muscles in her neck constricted in a swallow.
“I meant to help in any case,” he went on. “I have my own reasons for wishing to learn who committed the crime.”
Her expression remained wary, torn between hope and fear.
Kate Woodbridge might have experienced a great many things during her world travels, thought Marco. But clearly she wasn’t used to accepting help. Quickly he drawled, “So, you will have to think of another way of enticing me into your bed.”
As he had intended, the teasing quip sparked a flash of indignation in her eyes. “Me beg you to make love?”
Gone was the look of bleak defeat. Ire now animated her features, bringing the color back to her cheeks. He held back a grin.
“Ha!” she exclaimed. “You may dream until Doomsday, but that will not happen.”
“Don’t be so sure of it,” he murmured.
“Do you really think that every female in Christendom is lusting after you?”
“Well, judging by the number of billet doux that I receive…”
“Your arrogance is astounding,” muttered Kate.
“Now, now, be nice, Kate.” Marco reached out and tucked a wind-loosened curl behind her ear. “After all, we are now partners in crime, if not in bed, so don’t you think that we ought to agree to a cordial working relationship?”
“Cordial.” Her lips thinned, then slowly curled up at the corners. “Very well. I shall do my damnedest to be nice.”
Kate willed her heart to stop hammering against her ribs. But somehow her body was blatantly ignoring the signals from her brain. From the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, she seemed to be thrumming from the same strange vibrations.
Lud, were her knees really trembling? Only the silly heroines in a novel gave way to girlish emotion. Not tough-as-nails Kate Woodbridge, who had confronted some of the scurviest scoundrels in the world without batting an eye.
So what was she afraid of? Kate blinked, uncertain of the answer.
“Thank you. That is, no doubt, a great concession,” said Marco dryly. “Now that we have established the ground rules, perhaps we ought to begin examining the facts of the case. I assume from your earlier statement that you didn’t murder poor Von Seilig.”
“No. I did not.” She lifted her chin. “Do you believe me?”
He nodded gravely. “In fact, I do.”
Kate was surprised at how relieved she felt on hearing him say so.
“You see, I had a chance to examine the body.”
“Charlotte and I were hoping for a look, but he had already been taken away to the coroner.” She hesitated. “Will an autopsy prove me innocent?”
“Not likely,” replied Marco frankly. “There is nothing clear-cut, to use an unfortunate term. However, I happen to be familiar with violent death and all the subtle ways that one can commit murder. I saw a number of little things that make me quite sure it was not you who killed him.”
“Really?” Scientific curiosity overcame her personal worries. “What sort of things?”
Marco gave a soft laugh. “Most females would be swooning in shock, rather than demanding the gory