Callie glanced through her veil at the footman who held the door, trying to swallow her agitation. Gerard's was one of the most exclusive hotels in the city, but Callie had never stayed there. She and her father had preferred the shabbier comfort of the Green Dragon, where they were close to the fair and sales.

Seeing the world through the gauze made it all the more like a dream. She was with Trev. They were going to his rooms. They would be alone together there, while everyone outside thought they were newlyweds. She lifted her skirts and climbed the stairs, preceding him into the chamber. The door closed behind them.

Callie stood looking at the gilded curves of the French chairs and reclining sofas, the draperies held back by golden tassels. It might have been any smart drawing room in Mayfair, with a silver tea tray and paper-thin slices of cake laid out on china and crisp linen. Lady Shelford would have felt quite at home at Gerard's, but Callie felt anxious, as if at any moment she might be called upon to make conversation at some tonnish party.

Trev tossed his hat and stick aside. He put his hands on her shoulders, turned her around, and pulled the veil free. She blinked and tried to smile, to show that she was primed for this adventure. He looked down at her a moment, his head tilted quizzically. Then he drew her close and kissed her.

All her uneasiness vanished in an instant, lost in the wonder of his touch. She let her head yield back under the searching kiss, the taste of him. She knew this—he had taught her. She lifted her arms in answer, clinging to him in spite of herself, or because of herself, because she wanted to feel him close to her so badly, and time was so short.

"Callie," he breathed against her skin. He held her cheeks between his palms. "Callie." He kissed her again. "I do look forward to this."

She gathered her wits enough to pull back a little. "You don't—I mean—we needn't pretend here, you know."

He laughed under his breath. "And decline the opportunity?" He held his hands at her waist and rocked her. "I have you in my evil clutches now, my lady. You may consider yourself lured to your doom."

It was only too true that he had her in his power. She seemed helpless to say or think a sensible thing. A part of her was looking on, warning her of peril in her father's troubled voice, but the most of her was simply full of joy at being here, at touching him, at being free to look up and return his smile without fear that anyone might notice.