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At that moment, Aubriella felt like the most beautiful, alluring woman on earth, and hot tears pricked her eyelids. She hadn’t realized how bereft she was, and now that she’d experienced desire, she didn’t know if she could go on as if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

In truth, she very much feared Jackson Matherfield had altered her life forever.

Overcome with bashfulness, she curved her mouth into a small, fragile smile. “Will you let me draw you? I shan’t include your face, so no one will know who it is.”

Closing his eyes, he threw his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat, and groaned.

“You will be the death of me, Aubriella Penford.”

Sighing, he set her away from him and straightened her earring.

“We’ll leave it to the dice, vixen. If you win, I’ll let you sketch me, though God only knows how we’ll manage it. If I win, you’ll tell me what you know about the mysterious wager regarding Miss Willoughby and how you came to know it. Agreed?”

This might very well be her only chance to see the male form and sketch it. And suddenly, it had become very important that it was Jack that she drew. Aubriella refused to examine the reason behind that newfound need. “Agreed, but no one else can know the stakes. As far as they are concerned, we’re playing for a forfeit.”

“That is wise. Shall we? We have dice to cast unless you’d settle for a game of vingt-et-un instead?” He cocked an eyebrow.

In expectation?

In challenge?

Her mind kept wandering to that blistering kiss.

How was she supposed to concentrate now?

Was that the rogue’s intent all along?

Had he planned to kiss her, to disarm her?

Would Jack do something that underhanded?

Aubriella’s gut said no, but what did she really know about men and their ways?

She considered his suggestion. Vingt-et-un was far simpler to play than hazard. She mentally weighed the chances of winning at either game and settled on hazard, although, in all honesty, games of chance were wholly unreliable. “I think we’ll stick with the dice.”

“The game will be a first for us,” he said. “Even though we’ve attended many of the same events, including the Templetons’ annual house party, many times.”

His point?

Jack extended his elbow. “Tonight seems to be fraught with new experiences.”

Would Aubriella remember this yuletide toss of the dice as the exact moment her life irrevocably changed? Or had it happened when Jack had kissed her, and for the first time in a very long while, she admitted she wanted more out of life than studying scientific specimens and drawings?

She wanted passion and love.

And she feared that newfound discovery mightn’t ever be fulfilled.