“But can I...?” she breathed into his ear. “Is this alr—”
Declan moaned and went down on one knee, pulling her with him. Plush cushions were stacked nearby. He need only fall back to sprawl her across him.
“Declan,” she breathed, “I need...” She closed her fingers around him. All useful thought ceased. Her touch was a pulsing burn of pleasure.
“Declan,” she pleaded.
“What—?!” ranted a voice from beyond Declan’s haze of desire.
He froze.
“What is the meaning of—”
Helena giggled against his mouth. Declan swore in his head. He looked in the direction of the sound.
Sunlight spilled through the raised flap of the tent. An angry textiles merchant glowered at their entwined bodies.
Declan looked back to Helena. She bit her lip. Her expression was the blushing, bemused embodiment ofOh dear.
In that moment, he would have traded Newgate to kiss her one more time.
But he pivoted sideways, tumbling Helena gently onto a pile of cushions and blocking her from view.
“Easy, mate,” Declan called to the merchant, and disentangled from Helena. He vaulted to his feet.
“I’ve got a guinea for five more minutes.” Declan dug into his pocket and came up with a jingle of coins.
“I run a respectable business,” the merchant insisted, staring at the coins.
“Of course you do,” Declan agreed, tossing the gold, “and a successful one. Which is why you’ll not pass up the opportunity to turn your easiest profit of the week. Five minutes.”
The merchant grumbled but closed his hand over the coins and went away. Declan secured the tent flap and turned back to Helena. She was flushed and tousled but smiling, working her hands into her gloves.
“Five minutes?” she asked. “You could have bought us an hour.”
“We do not have an hour,” he said, tugging on his own gloves. “We don’t have five minutes.”
“You are a terrible groom,” she sighed, tucking back her hair.
Yes, but what of the diversion?he thought. Before he could stop himself, he said, “Liked that, did you?” It came out with more curtness than he’d anticipated.
“What?” Helena paused, looking confused. “What do you mean?”
“The kiss?” He looked away.
“Was that ‘a kiss’?” she laughed.
“Kisses,” he corrected.
“Of course I liked it. But, Declan, how could you not know this? Have I displeased you?”
Declan considered this, putting on his hat. She pleased him in every way. This situation was not her fault. She’d been very clear from the beginning. She wanted his help. He’d not conceived of helping her exactlythis way, but he had no right to complain. So what if she found him exciting and desirable? If it was adventure she craved, he could give her that.
“I am the opposite of displeased,” he said, peeking out of the tent. “I live to serve.”
“But that was not serving,” she insisted. “That was—”
He stopped her by raising a flat palm. He turned back. “You would not believe this,” he said. “I think we may have stumbled upon Lady Moira.”
