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D esire? Wolf’s finger moved from the tip of Tiffany’s nose to her lips, gently sweeping over them, and she could not get her brain to function. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting he desired—her? Just the idea sent her body into panic mode. Yes, she’d fantasized about Wolf’s kisses, but her innocent heart was not sophisticated enough to tryst with Wolf and survive.

“Please move back,” she squeaked out.

Wolf ignored her. He merely stared at her lips as if he wanted to taste them. For one wild moment she almost said, “ Yes, please .”

Softly he whispered, “So innocent. You think you’re so worldly, yet the touch of my finger on your lips makes you tremble.”

Tiffany noticed her legs were shaking. She licked her lips and his eyes drank in the movement. She felt her face heat. How gauche he must think her.

Finally, just as she thought she might swoon, he took pity on her and sat back on his squab.

“If the share price of Park Mill increases at a greater percentage return than Armley Mill’s share price, you will agree to a marriage of convenience—with me, that is.”

She gasped. What on earth…? No. She could not have heard correctly. Why would a man who could have any woman as his wife want her?

“It would suit my needs,” he continued, “and will be a victory for your social standing. A woman who is so obviously sensible, intelligent, and strategic will see the benefit to such an arrangement.”

Arrangement—not marriage. While her head wanted to scream yes, her heart threw up a fortress. “No. I will not accept that deal. Thank you for your kind…offer, but I’d rather you told Fane about my investing.”

Wolf’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. Perhaps she could have turned him down in a more polite manner, but something about his cool delivery of the offer, the way he seemed to think she should be grateful, hurt. Besides, her whole reason for investing was so she would not have to accept a loveless marriage.

*

Did Tiffany just decline his offer? Wolf’s hands curled into fists by his side. Unbelievable! His first proposal since Margo and it was a “no.” If not for the fact women threw themselves at him almost daily, his pride would be dented.

He’d never even considered the possibility she’d refuse him. His title and wealth saw most women do everything in their power to force a proposal from him.

He cleared his throat, refusing to show that perhaps his pride was a little wounded. “I thought you intelligent. May I ask why you won’t accept my offer?”

“I believe you are looking for a woman who will stay in the background and bear your children while you go about your life much unchanged from what it is now.”

His temper, already at the burning embers stage, flared a little. Wasn’t that what marriages among the ton were? She would have his money, social standing, children, the house to manage and he would… He would do as he always did. “Your point being?”

“I thought you were intelligent. I’m investing so I do not have to consider a marriage of convenience. I will only marry a man who loves me.” Her face flushed a pretty pink as she said the words.

“Love is for the poets and lower classes. We marry for alliances and money.” He would never let his heart love again. The pain of loss was beyond imagining.

She frowned. “You do not need money.” She considered him for a few moments. “I’d hardly say you need me for an alliance, either.”

There she was wrong. While he appeared to be a very successful investor, his was mostly good luck. Take this investment Jacob had suggested with Park Mill. He had no idea if the investment would show a return. He relied on Jacob’s advice, and if Tiffany was right, well, then he could suffer a huge loss. A few large losses, coupled with covering his uncle’s increasing gambling debts, and his family’s situation could be reversed. He did not have his father’s natural ability with numbers. His younger brother did, but when Rockwell was on one of his many travels round the globe, Wolf’s investments always suffered.

If Tiffany was as skilled as she professed, she would be a huge asset to his family.

Plus, if he married Tiffany, Fane would owe him. And if the scandal surrounding his sister Ashleigh did prevent her finding a suitable match, Wolf knew Fane would offer for her in return for his marriage to Tiffany. Hell, it was Fane who had drunkenly backed his brother’s suggestion of a reciprocal arrangement.

Ashleigh could do a lot worse than marrying Marlowe—a fact he did not intend to share with Tiffany. She and Ashleigh were friends, and Ashleigh…well, she was a tad strong-willed—hence the scandal she’d walked into.

“Marlowe is like a brother to me. It would bring our families closer.”

She sat back and placed her hands in her lap. “My answer is still no.”

“I’d let you continue to invest. In fact, you could invest to your heart’s content. My assets would be at your disposal.”

A glow entered her eyes. Yes. Finally, an offer she couldn’t refuse. Satisfaction stirred, though he couldn’t deny it was a touch demoralizing to learn the idea of freedom to invest excited her more than marriage to him. He waited for her to accept, but then, to his surprise—and annoyance—the glow in her eyes dimmed.

“Tempting as that may be, the answer is still no.” Her chin lifted.

He held her gaze and noted her bottom lip tremble. She’d trembled when he’d touched her earlier too. From innocence, or something else? Was she affected by him, as most women were? Did he stir her desires? Her passions? Perhaps there was another way to get what he wanted.

“Have you ever been kissed, Tiffany?”

Her eyes rounded, and she darted a look at his mouth then licked those luscious pink lips, and for the second time in minutes, he wanted to taste her. Not just to seduce her into agreeing to this marriage, but because…because he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to be the first man to ever kiss her. He had no idea why that was so important.

“Have you?” he insisted.

She shook her head, her eyes returning to his mouth.

“Would you like me to kiss you now?” He didn’t move a muscle, scared he’d frighten her. He waited and watched, almost laughing at the internal battle discernable on her face. Her eyes were so expressive; brilliantly cut emeralds didn’t sparkle brighter. She was very pretty in her own way, especially without her glasses perched on her cute upturned nose. If only she’d wear her auburn hair in a less matronly style, flowing a little loose around those defined cheekbones instead of wound up tight in a bun.

He wondered why he’d never noticed her in this way before—her womanly curves drew his eye and stirred his desire, despite the hideous black gown. She was certainly not a tree stick. Tiffany was more like Ruben’s voluptuously shaped women, one who would fill his hands with her sensual curves.

He shifted on the squab as his body stirred.

Tiffany was his sisters’ friend, so he’d never really noticed her. He had certainly never seriously considered marriage to one of his sisters’ friends, and marriage would be the only time he’d ever consider dallying with—

He caught himself mid-thought. Dallying with? When did he dally with respectable debutantes? Never. That was what a mistress was for.

Hell, he bloody wanted to dally with Tiffany Deveraux.

He wanted to ruffle that composure and unleash the passion coiled so tight underneath her prim exterior. She was passionate; he’d seen the fire in her eyes when she talked about investing. Oh, to have all that passion and interest reserved for him alone.

This little mouse was suddenly out of hiding, and for some reason, she stirred the animal in him. He sat up straight, honest enough to admit that her rejection of his marriage offer had also stirred the competitiveness within him too.

“I have never been kissed, and while the idea of being kissed by a man such as you stirs something within me, I’m pretty sure the offer to kiss me is your way of trying to change my mind about a marriage of convenience. So I regretfully decline.”

She was clever.

That stirred him too. He should simply let the matter drop, but the idea of nudging Marlowe to offer for Ashleigh in return for him marrying Tiffany was too attractive. It would be the answer to all his and Ashleigh’s prayers.

He nodded at her response and refused to let her see she’d gotten under his skin. “Fine. I have a new wager for you then.” Her eyebrow rose and her lips firmed. He barely stopped his own from twitching. “If I win, I’ll keep your secret from Marlowe, if you allow me to court you and show you how a marriage between us could work.”

Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. He read suspicion on her face as clearly as if the word was painted on her forehead. “Why this sudden need to have me as your wife?”

He shrugged. “As I said before, marrying would align our families, and I think you and I would be well suited.” She scoffed. “Truly. You are intelligent, outspoken, and passionate. I’m pretty sure our marriage would never bore me. Marriage is for a lifetime.”

“Absolutely. That is why it’s so important to ensure my husband is one I would want to spend a lifetime with.”

He moved and sat on the squab next to her. Taking her hand, he pressed his lips to her palm and noted her shiver. She wasn’t immune to him.

“I’m simply asking for a chance to prove to you our marriage would make you happy. We could be content. Besides, why are you worrying so much about the wager? I thought you were positive Armley Mill’s shares would increase more than Park Mill’s.”

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and tucked it beside her hip. “I am confident.” She watched him with those calculating eyes and said the words he’d known she would utter the moment he’d suggested the second wager. “I shall allow you to court me, but you will do so in a way that protects my reputation. No behavior that would see me forced to accept your offer.”

Yes. She was very clever.

“I would never do anything to dishonor you or my family.”

She nodded. “I believe you. If anything, I know you to be a man of your word. All right. I accept your wager,” she said, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seized his opportunity, and instead of shaking her hand, he gently turned it over and pressed his lips to the soft skin of her wrist between her glove and her sleeve. He felt her shiver again and wanted to holler with victory. She was most definitely not immune to him.

That would make this easier. He was a man who was no stranger to seduction, and a young innocent lady such as Tiffany—he should easily be able to turn her head, especially as she seemed in no hurry to withdraw her hand from his grasp. He rubbed his thumb across her palm, and her breath hitched as her eyes tracked the small movement. The moment was broken only when the carriage drew to a halt.

Wolf sat back on the opposite squab and lifted the window covering. “We have arrived at your home.”

“Could you ask the carriage to go around the back, please?”

“So you can sneak in?”

“If I don’t, our wager might be over before it begins. If Fane sees me with you, he will ask questions and he may learn of my activities. If so, there would be no need for me to allow you to court me.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. Her mind was as sharp as an arrowhead and he loved how she challenged him at every turn.

He banged on the roof. The hatch opened and Wolf told the tiger to drive around to the stables.

“I believe you are attending the opera tonight. You will let me escort you?”

Alarm flashed across her face before she turned away to exit the carriage. “This is all too soon. Marlowe will want to know why you are escorting me tonight. I suggest a more gradual society introduction to our courtship. Besides, you haven’t won yet. Still, you could visit the box.”

“I shall look forward to the pleasure of conversing,” he said to her rapidly departing back.

As his carriage trundled home, Wolf couldn’t help but smile. He was very much looking forward to courting Miss Tiffany Deveraux and matching wits with her.

The more he considered the wager and all he had to gain from winning, the more he decided he needed to rethink his strategy. Having had the time to talk with Tiffany, one thing was clear. He didn’t doubt she could win the wager with Armley Mill. Therefore, he had best make Tiffany fall in love with him so if he lost, he’d still win.

Pulling out his pocket watch, Wolf noted he still had plenty of time before he met the others at White’s. He’d promised to escort his two sisters to the opera tonight, so fortunately he wouldn’t have to make any excuses to his mother as to why he suddenly wanted to attend the event. But there was someone he needed to talk to—Delia, his mistress.

He was not crass enough to keep a mistress when he was trying to win a young lady’s heart. That knowledge would most likely see Miss Tiffany Deveraux avoid matrimony like the plague.

Once again, he banged on the roof of the carriage. “To Garrard’s the jewelers, in Mayfair, and quick about it.”