She almost corrected him. She wasn’t my lady, but Your Grace. However, the less he knew of her, the better. In addition, considering the way he studied her, she wasn’t entirely certain if he was addressing her with an honorific or claiming her as his lady. A silly thought. An even sillier one was that she wouldn’t mind if the latter were the case, but it was imperative that he not have a care for her and she not have one for him, that tonight’s little adventure leave behind no fond memories to be mulled over in the days and years to come.

Swallowing hard, she placed her gloved hand in his, surprised how the warmth of his burned through the silk. He tucked it within the crook of his elbow and began leading her out of the shadows.

“I’m looking forward to introducing you to the pleasures of sin.”

Aiden Trewlove escorted the lady into the dim light where he could get a better look at her. In contrast to his, her hair was the shade of wheat with the barest hint of red, as though she’d eaten strawberries as a child and the fruit had become part of her. But it was her eyes that drew him in, the blue of the hottest flames dancing upon a hearth, and he had the unsettling thought that with her he could get burned.

Not likely. He was not one to become overly involved with a lady. Having watched as one had nearly destroyed his brother when they were younger, randy, and wild, Aiden had made a vow to never allow any woman to capture his heart. He would enjoy them, ensure they enjoyed time spent with him, but he’d walk away if he ever felt a spark that threatened more than a casual encounter, more than a frolic between the sheets.

He’d noticed this one the moment she entered his establishment, although he made note of everyone who came and went. It wasn’t unusual for a woman, upon first arriving at his club, to be a bit shy, to hover in a corner, to be hesitant about going forward and embracing what he offered. But this one had been neither shy nor hovering nor hesitant. She’d been watching. Not the dice games or the cards or the roulette wheel. Not the well-dressed men walking through offering champagne, brandy, and port. Not the young bucks leaning over a lady’s shoulder whispering tips on how to play and compliments into her ear. No, none of that had caught her attention or sparked her curiosity. She’d been watching him.