"I am a complicated woman, Leo," Scarlett said, sighing.

"Oh, I know," Leo said with a smirk. He paused. "Why did you decide to start Mischief in Mayfair?"

Scarlett gave him the easiest answer she had. "Because I needed money."

"I suppose nothing was left for you."

Scarlett shook her head. "My parents had some money, but they would have never thought to leave any to me. And when I had my debut into society, they were only looking for a titled man. Lord Humphries hadn't been wealthy, but my parents cared very little. He was an earl, and that was what they'd been looking for."

"I'm sure it wasn't what you were looking for," Leo said softly.

"No. He was old and unkind," Scarlett replied flatly.

A grimace appeared on Leo's face. "Tell me about it, dear."

Scarlett played with the lace on her glove nervously. No one had ever asked about her marriage to Lord Humphries. "He would parade me about London as his prized countess, but at home, I was treated no better than a servant. I was property to be used as he wished and nothing more."

It was quiet when Scarlett finished speaking. She couldn't bring herself to look at Leo, afraid that she might begin to cry.

Eventually, Scarlett went on. "Though I wore hues of black, grey, and lavender for the appropriate amount of time, I did not mourn my husband."

She'd never made such a confession aloud, and relief settled over her.

"I shouldn't think you would," Leo replied. His voice was calm and soothing, and the tone of it alone urged Scarlett to glance upward at his face. All of his attention was on her, his eyes darting across her face in thoughtful examination. His expression pushed her to keep talking.

"But during my marriage, my parents had passed away. I didn't have any siblings, and all of our assets were transferred to my cousin. Similarly, my husband's title and everything entailed to it passed to his brother. He has no use for Humphries House at the moment and allows me to stay there, but he does not pay for its upkeep."

"He doesn't?" Leo asked, surprised.

She shook her head. Scarlett had no intention of begging from the man, either.

Leo seemed to be contemplating something, worrying his lip. Finally, he cocked his head to the side and asked the question she has been trying to avoid. "Do you require assistance with money, Scarlett? I can help."

Scarlett couldn't help but hang her head. "It is true that I am not as wealthy as I try to make people believe. I am certain you noticed that my bedroom was sparsely decorated."

"And your servants are sparsely there."

"Yes," Scarlett agreed tentatively. "But I am not looking for any type of...arrangement at this time, Leo."

Scarlett instantly grimaced, realizing that what she'd just said would conflict with the results of the "bet." What would Leo think when he learned that she'd become Damien's mistress again? Well, fake mistress. But not that Leo would know that.

That was a problem for a later time, Scarlett supposed. Right now, Leo was glaring at her, his expression laced with incredulity.

"Do you really think my offer of aid would be contingent upon something like that? I'm not looking to take advantage of you, Scarlett," Leo said lowly.

"Forgive me for the assumption, but you haven't exactly hidden your attempts to gain my affections," Scarlett pointed out.

"If I am to earn your affections, it will be because you want me," Leo replied huskily, his voice dropping even further. "Not my money, Scarlett. I offer you funds because you are my friend, and the offer comes without strings attached."

Scarlett's breath caught in her throat. She'd always known that she had friends who would help her if she asked, but actually hearing it was something different. And now, Leo was looking at her with ardor, an intensity in his eyes that couldn't be denied. He always knew just the things to say to make her blood pump faster through her veins, starting fires within her.

Scarlett attempted to ignore all the foreign sensations. "Thank you, Leo. But no, I do not require your assistance."

He watched her idly. "I think your pride is causing you to make a mistake here, Scarlett."

Scarlett ground her teeth together in frustration. "Perhaps it is time for me to go," she said crisply, knowing she needed to retreat. She stood abruptly, only to be grabbed by the wrist, forced to stop.

"Scarlett."

She spun back around and was surprised to see that Leo had stood as well. Scarlett found herself staring at his hard chest, very nearly exposed through the thin, muslin shirt. The distance between them was so minimal, yet the space was...palpable.

Sucking in a breath, Scarlett had to ask, "Why do you even bother with me, Leo? I am not worth your attention. You could have any woman you wanted."

Leo wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tight to his chest, and Scarlett gasped, shocked at the feeling of being so close to him. "I don't want any other woman," he growled.

The flames within Scarlett grew. "Is it merely the chase that thrills you, Leo?"

Leo dared to chuckle, and Scarlett could feel the little breath of air that released between his lips. "Oh no, darling," he said. "I would be rid of this chase if I could."

"Then, why?" Scarlett demanded.

Leo's hooded eyes traced the edges of her face before finally landing on her lips. Scarlett instinctively darted her tongue out to lick them, sucking her lower lip into her mouth to bite it gently. Leo looked abruptly up to the ceiling, running one hand through his tousled blonde locks. How did he so often manage to look every bit a gentleman and a rogue at the same time?

"Why, Leo?" she repeated.

"Damnit, Scarlett." He dropped his gaze back to hers. "Because I care about you! Because you are everything—"

Scarlett stole his words, captured them with her mouth as she kissed Leo desperately. She couldn't hold back anymore, not with the way he was holding her. Not with the things he was saying. His warm lips were frozen in shock for only moments before he kissed her back, pulling her tighter against his body in the process. Their lips crushed together, desperate to release the tension that had built between them.

Leo groaned as Scarlett opened her mouth, allowing him deeper access. Leo's tongue brushed against her own, sending a jolt to her core. The fire that had begun within Scarlett was blazing now, unable to be subdued no matter how hard she tried. Not that she was really trying.

Leo ran his tongue along the edge of her lip, and Scarlett shivered at the light caress. Then he once again swept his entire mouth over hers and brought his hands up to cup her face in the process. He held her there, tasting her again and again, driving Scarlett mad with the sensations from his kisses.

"Leo," she moaned, giving in to the moment, being lost to this man. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear that come from your mouth," he murmured against her lips before trailing his kisses down to her neck. Scarlett tilted her head back, giving him everything he wanted. "God, you taste exquisite," he breathed.

Scarlett was wearing a carnation-pink gown, and she was confident that her flushed skin now matched the color of it. The bodice of the dress was low-cut, and Leo dragged his lips all the way to the edge of it. Her breasts rose to the seam of the gown with each deep breath she took, threatening to spill over the top. Leo pulled back and merely stared for a moment.

"You do not merely taste exquisite. You are exquisite."

Then his eyes flicked up toward her face once more. He took a step back.

"You should go, Scarlett," he said hoarsely. "You know how badly I want you. You might have kissed me, but I'm not delusional to think that you are similarly so sure of yourself. I need you to be sure."

Scarlett bit her swollen lip, trying to slow her racing pulse.

He was right. She wasn't sure of anything. She wasn't sure if it was possible to expel the desire she felt for Leo Pearce any more.

"Fine, Leo," she whispered.

Leo briefly closed his eyes before reaching out to take Scarlett's gloved hand. He kissed it slowly, and Scarlett wished she could feel his bare lips against her flesh once more.

"Goodnight, Scarlett," he breathed.

Somehow, Scarlett was able to walk from the room when her legs felt like jelly. Only once she got home did she let herself think about what she'd just done. But even lying in her bed, the fire continued to burn. And she knew there was only one way to extinguish it now.