Now, he was doing a bollocks job of ignoring her while she could have won a prize for acting as if he didn’t exist. Not once had he caught her looking at him, all the many times he’d glanced her way.

“I seem to recall you being more adept at conversation,” he finally said, in an effort to taunt her into speaking to him. He’d already learned that niceties and politeness got him nothing more than half-hearted, one-syllable replies.

Without taking her eyes from her periodical, she merely said, “I seem to recall you telling me you’d given up your mistress. Memories can be faulty.”

Sebastian’s nostrils flared. “I did give up my mistress.”

“And went back to her weeks later,” Veronica replied, a fake-sweet smile on her face. She still refused to look at him.

She was obviously trying to rile him, which he admittedly deserved for trying to rile her. But her attempt had worked, which bothered him. “I did not go back to her weeks later,” he replied simply.

Veronica arched a brow but continued to stare at the reading material she’d lifted in front of her face to no doubt block her view of him. “Oh, so you didn’t lie to me about going to the club and visit her instead?”

He cursed under his breath. “Yes, I did, but—” He stopped himself and pinched the bridge of his nose momentarily before shaking it off and replacing it with a forced grin. “Let’s have a more productive conversation, shall we?”

Finally, she folded down the edge of her periodical and eyed him over the top of the blasted thing. “‘Productive?’” Her voice dripped with skepticism. “Such as?”

“I propose we come up with the ground rules for our little…agreement,” he offered, settling back into his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

Her dark brows shot up. “‘Agreement?’ Is that what we’re calling it?”

“You are free to change your mind any time you like,” he pointed out, giving her a tight smile. “Merely say the word. I can turn the coach right around and take you back to Whitmore Manor. Besides, why should you be the only one to benefit from the situation?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because you’re a gentleman?”

His brows shot up. “Am I? I thought I was a rogue and a cheat. Which is it?” Of course, he was only trying to rile her again. Even if she called off their intimate arrangement, he wouldn’t desert her. Her grandfather had always been kind to him and welcomed him when he’d had only his awful mother to call family. Sebastian hated to know he was dying. The truth was that Sebastian looked forward to seeing the old man again, seeing all of them again. The Whitmorelands were the only genuine family he’d ever known.

Veronica lifted her pert nose in the air and narrowed her dark eyes on him. “You clearly are a rogue and a cheat, and your conditions merely confirm it.”