Fortunately, if Alice had learned one thing from her father, it was how to negotiate. Daddy owned the second-largest transport shipping company in the world, with steamships and cargo ships all over the globe. He always said never to accept the first offer.

Lifting her chin, she tried to put some force behind her voice. “No.”

“I don’t understand. I am offering to help you in exchange for the recipes. It’s a fair trade.”

“Sharing those recipes for a few hints is hardly fair. No, you’ll have to do better. Fair is a full lesson for every recipe I give you.”

Chapter Three

Kit studied the slight woman at his side. For a supposedly shy person, Alice could certainly drive a hard bargain. Yet, he still didn’t have a clue as to what she expected of him. “A full lesson? Like how to kiss in exchange for ducklings à la bigarade?”

Color dotted her cheeks, and her gaze grew slightly unfocused. Was she considering it? He’d love a peek inside her mind right now, just to discover if she fancied the idea of kissing him or not.

Because the more he was around Alice, the more he definitely wanted to kiss her.

“That would hardly be proper,” she said. “And as I mentioned last night, questions and answers should do.”

“What about role-playing?” He could think of several naughty games they could play together, like the farmhand and the milkmaid. The footman and the wealthy widow. The shopgirl and the—

She’s a virgin.

Damn. He exhaled and tried to remember where he was and with whom he was dealing. Whatever happened, he could not corrupt her.

“Perhaps,” she said, clearly oblivious to the lascivious meaning behind his suggestion of role-playing. “We’ll have to see. Do we have a deal?”

“Fine, I agree.” What did he have to lose? Spend a few hours with this clever, unconventional girl to get several of Franconi’s recipes? There was no downside. “I’ll cable you once we’re back in New York to set up a—”

“No, no. It must be here. This weekend.”

Kit’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “Here? But I’ve already explained why that’s impossible. Maddie will shove me onto a spit and roast me alive.”

The little minx merely lifted a shoulder and began strolling toward the tent. “Dash it,” Kit muttered, and started after her. “Why can’t this wait until we’re in the city?”

“You said it yourself. I won’t be able to slip away in the city, not like I can here.”

“But . . .”

If only he didn’t want those recipes so badly . . .

If only Preston had been able to convince Franconi on his own . . .

If only Maddie hadn’t warned him off the young ladies . . .