Valentine almost laughed aloud at her sheer cheek. The ballocks on her! A slip of a girl was going toe-to-toe with him, throwing the fact that they had coupled back in his face along with the threat of wedlock. He had no illusions that she would divulge all to her brother, if push came to shove and that was really her game, and then he would be forced to do right by her. “Which path is that?”

“I think you already know, one heralded by wedding bells.”

“If I recall, my lady, you consented quite enthusiastically to the act.”

A dark flush crested her cheekbones but she nodded. “I did. That doesn’t change the fact that should the Duke of Ashvale learn that you joined giblets with his younger, unmarried sister, even with her consent in a public wood, we would both be expected to do what society demands of us.”

Valentine drew in a clipped breath at the unrefined slang falling from such aristocratic lips.

“Which neither of us wants,” she added.

“That mouth of yours,” he murmured.

That puckish pout quirked upward. “I rather thought you enjoyed this mouth of mine, Your Grace. At least, it felt like it.”

Goddamn his fool self, now he was blushing like a schoolgirl, if the heat filling his face was any signal. Heat was tormenting other parts of him as well. Thank God his propped knee blocked most of his distended crotch from her view. The thin underclothes would hide nothing, and the last thing he wanted was to upend a necessary conversation with more lust. He was already in enough of a bind as it was, especially if she decided to make good on her threat. Sealing his fate with another round of mind-numbing, gratifying sex was certain stupidity. His gaze flicked to her lips, the barest flick of her glistening tongue making a low growl climb up his chest at the memory of her soft, wet mouth on him.

“Where did you learn to do such a thing?” he rasped out and nearly kicked himself. Some focus.

“A library.”

“Does dear Lady Borne know of your wicked preference of reading material?”

Her brows lifted. “There are many things my mother does not know about me, Your Grace. I gather she would be shocked, if she suspected.” Face unreadable, she peered at him. “So are we in agreement? A trade for a trade?”

“Very well,” he agreed. “Why have you come here? Are you really visiting a sick relative?”

“No, but I am here to help a friend who might be in trouble.”

“That’s vague and tells me nothing,” he said.

The imp grinned. “Ask better questions next time. You know for a supposedly unrivaled big, bad secret operative, you’re rather easy to sidestep. Were you any good at your job at all?”

“I am not a spy.” Valentine set his jaw. “And I’m very good at my job.”