For one wild moment Moira thought about telling him the truth, but even as she had the thought, her sponge slipped from her fingers onto the floor. The splash brought her back to her senses. She was so close to getting Rowena back; all she needed was that damn onyx box. There was no need to deal with this complication.

What if he decides he wants to keep her? Moira’s heart stuttered. I can’t get her back only to lose her again!

The courts would never be kind to a woman alone, especially with her dubious history. Robert had connections in the government and he would use them to his benefit. I can’t chance it. He must never know about Rowena.

Moira leaned over the edge of the tub for the dropped sponge, stretching to reach it. When she slid back into the water, she caught the faint flush on Robert’s face.

So you aren’t immune to me.

Watching him from under her lashes, she pulled her hair to one side and laid an arm on the rim of the tub, baring her breast.

His lips tightened slightly, a significant response for a man who was always in control. Satisfaction buoyed her. “Perhaps I married you because I knew it would inflame you,” she said calmly, rubbing the lavender soap on the sponge and then circling it around her breast.

This time he visibly caught his breath. You aren’t made of stone, are you?

“Stop that right now.”

“Stop what?”

“Distracting me. I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work. If you don’t wish to discuss why you tricked me into marriage, then let’s talk of something else.”

“Please, let’s.”

“Good. Tell me about George Aniston. Why is that scoundrel in your life? And don’t pretend you’re in his employ. I know you and if there’s one thing you possess, it’s pride. You’d never work for a worm like him.”

Suddenly, Moira was tired . . . tired of dissembling, tired of always being wary, tired of hating George Aniston and yet having to be polite to him while having to be hateful to Robert, when all she really wanted to do was—

No, don’t, she told herself severely. “As you’ve already guessed, I’m assisting Aniston in collecting the onyx boxes.”

“That tells me what, not why.” Robert leaned forward and she was struck by his strength. Despite his lace and fine clothing, there was no mistaking that he was a man through and through. He’d proven that to her between the sheets and in other ways as well. He might look a dandy, but he was hard-bodied, cool-mannered, and deadly when the situation warranted it. Anyone who thought differently was a fool.

He fixed his blue, blue gaze upon her now. “Moira, whatever Aniston has over you, it can’t be worth degrading yourself to doing his bidding. Nothing is worth that.”

Oh, but there is, she thought, her chest tight with anguish. “There’s nothing to tell you about Aniston. He and I’ve done business a few times. That’s all.”