Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (199 page)

Libertine Lord, Pickpocket Miss

much for never seeing
him
again.
Sophie shot up, reminding herself to stay calm. There was honor among thieves to some extent and there was certainly something more than honor that had sparked between the two of them last night. She was not without defenses, although the first line of defense-the remarkably inquisitive

had certainly failed this morning. In her kinder moments, Sophie liked to think of the landlady as a version of Cerbems, the three-headed dog guarding the

in Greek mythology.

Between the woman's sharp eyes, curiosity and her unnerving penchant for poking her nose into everyone's business, no one got in or out of the front door. And certainly no one set foot on the stairs without her knowing about it. But Burke had made it all the wav to her rooms. Most indeed.

Sophie fixed him with a coy stare. "You found me. You're faster than I thought you'd be. I wasn't expecting you until tonight."

"The

is, my dear, you weren't expecting

me at all." He pushed off

the door

and

crossed the little room toward her.

No, she hadn't been expecting him. She'd been so lost in her daydreams she hadn't heard the

Scott

door open. She'd been so confident in her landlady's ability to scent out a stranger the door was unlocked. Both errors were proof enough that she'd underestimated him in many ways. In the daylight he was taller than she'd realized last night; taller, broader, more handsome, more commanding, more everything.

His gaze dominated her with its slow

his sharp eyes a dark shade of gray reminiscent of a topaz necklace she'd reclaimed once for a Russian prince.

"I was unaware you had an appointment to call," Sophie said with a bravado she didn't feel.

They both knew why he was here.

smile flirted on his lips and Sophie remembered the feel of that mouth on her; on her mouth, on her breasts. Her body

at the

indecent thought. "I'm here for my diamonds, Sophie

Ah, he had her name. Perhaps he was more than a thief.

thief would not have stopped to ask

the hostess for a name, and that was likely where he'd gotten it. An invited guest, then, in the house of an French Comte? If so, that made him a man of means and influence. He was recognized in prominent social circles.

34

Libertine Lord, Pickpocket Miss

"If they're yours, why did you have to steal them?" Sophie challenged.

"Why did you?" He took a step closer, making Sophie intensely aware of the breadth of his shoulders.

"They belong to my client. I am returning them to their

owner."

"The Count di Brazzo?" He gave a chuckle. "They're not his diamonds, my dear."

Sophie hid her surprise. "How do you know about him?" Someone, somewhere had been willing to talk, and

Burke had cared enough

to find him. The thought made her distinctly uncomfortable.

"Does it matter?" He scooped the necklace up from the table where it lay, arching a sardonic eyebrow that foreshadowed ill tidings. "Anyway, he won't want these, Sophie."

"Why not?" Sophie said hotly, watching the gems dangle from his hand, trying to ignore the tremor that shot through her at the sound of her name on his lips.

He smiled wickedly and leaned close to her ear, as he had on the dance floor, his breath feathering her neck. Her pulse raced at his