He was hard and lean, muscled but not bulky, as if every part of him had been honed to perfection by grueling necessity. His skin was tawny, darkened by the sun like a sailor’s, not pale and paunchy like most gentlemen’s of the ton.

Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. His dark hair was tousled in glorious disarray, and she felt a kind of wonder. He’d done things to her that were as astonishing as they had been pleasurable. It was like discovering a whole new continent where the map had shown nothing but empty sea. An entirely different landscape of sensation she’d never known existed.

She’d never imagined the all-consuming pleasure of making love with a man. She’d thought it would be pleasant in the same way it was nice to have Tilly rub her shoulders, or the way a bonbon dissolved on her tongue. Not so. It was pleasant in the way of the most fearsome of storms—exhilarating and overwhelming, terrifying in its power. But now she’d weathered it and come out safe the other side, she felt elated and reborn. Glad to be alive.

She sent him a tremulous smile, determined to be as cool and sophisticated as his other lovers. “So, will I see you tomorrow at the Cavendish garden fête? I’m fairly sure that after your performance at the Evans’ this evening, the book at White’s will be filling up with bets about us announcing our engagement.”

He chuckled. “The last time I checked, it was fifty to one against your acceptance. Your reputation proceeds you, my lady. You’re a hard nut to crack.”

“Well, I’m sure the odds will have shortened now,” she said wryly. A sudden thought struck her. “You know, you could make yourself a whole stack of money if you just bet that I’ll marry you.”

He shot her a mock-wounded look. “Whatever you think of me, Mrs. Wylde, I do have some scruples. Entering into a bet with inside knowledge and a certainty of winning would be extremely ungentlemanly. I won’t do it.”

She nodded, perversely glad that he’d withstood the temptation to solve his financial woes by resorting to such underhand tactics. He had both integrity and personal honor. He was, in fact, the polar opposite of Josiah, who pretended to have impeccable morals, but bent the rules when he thought no one was looking.

Father would have approved of Benedict Wylde. He was exactly the type of man he’d always urged her to find, someone strong and constant, with a good heart. He wasn’t always truthful, of course, and he could be annoyingly high-handed at times, but he was utterly loyal to those lucky few he chose to be his friends.