"What are you doing here?" Leo asked, his brows furrowing.

Scarlett took a hesitant step forward. "I know you're mad at me."

A humorless laugh escaped Leo's lips as he looked back toward his feet. "Mad at you? I'm not mad at you, Scarlett," he mumbled.

"You're not?" This wasn't the reaction that she'd been expecting. Not based on the expression he'd worn when striding from the room earlier.

Leo peered up at her through his long, blonde lashes. And Scarlett realized that despite his words, there was a storm within him. His clear, blue eyes had clouded over.

"No, I'm not mad at you. But I'm mad that men like Eades get what they want when they don't deserve it. I'm mad because he seems to be controlling you, and you've known too many men who have tried to do that. I'm mad for you, Scarlett."

All she could do was gape at him, a little breathless. Finally, she cleared her throat. "You do not understand, Leo."

"You're right," Leo replied, shaking his head. "I don't. Care to help me?"

Scarlett strode over, taking a seat on the bench beside him. He lifted his head, pinning her with his stormy eyes.

"You're right that I've lived a life controlled by men," Scarlett explained, "but it is unfortunately just the way of a woman's existence. There's a long list of men who have ordered me around and on a great many subject matters. Though, I have never considered Lord Eades to be among those listed."

Leo winced, and Scarlett realized the implication of her words.

"While I am glad to hear that," he began, "it does not clear my confusion. Why should you choose to spend time with a man who regards you with such little respect?"

She sighed. "We have long been friends. That is all I can say."

Leo glanced away from her, but she didn't miss the exasperation on his face. "Is that what they're calling it now?" he mumbled. "I thought you were going to trust me."

Scarlett sucked in a breath before slowly reaching over, slipping her hand into Leo's. Both of them were wearing gloves, but she could feel the heat between them regardless. Leo looked up, surprised.

"I'm asking you to trust me on this. You needn't be mad for me, Leo. Not where Lord Eades is concerned. The only reason that I asked you to leave tonight was based on the fear that you two would end up in a round of fisticuffs, and I wasn't sure how else to stop it. You and Damien do not see eye to eye."

She squeezed Leo's hand, all the while finding it hard to believe that he cared the way he did.

Leo visibly swallowed and then nodded, slow and measured. "That's one way of saying it. The man hates me because he knows what I want."

Scarlett tilted her head. "What?"

He faced her and cupped her face, straightening it to match with his. "You."

The small little word drew her in. Scarlett could feel her flesh molding to the shape of his, her heartbeat blending with the pulse of this man. But then, in an abrupt moment, he stood. And his absence made a chill run through her even in the humid air of the conservatory.

An extended platform ran through the center of the space, and it was filled with plants of various shades and blooms. Leo strode toward it, bending down to inspect creamy, white petals. It was too dark for Scarlett to identify the flower, not that she likely could, even in the light. She'd never been proficient in the art of floral designs.

"Lord Trotten states that you like plants," she probed.

His back was still toward her, but she could see him nod. "I do," she heard his deep voice rumble. "It's the biology. The way things grow. With the correct variables, somehow, the results can be wildly consistent. A perfect blossom every time."

Scarlett stood, treading lightly to Leo's side. He peeked over at her, and there was a small, sad smile on his face. "It isn't that way with humans."

"Leo..." she began, not really knowing the best way to respond. "There is beauty in imperfections, though."

His smile grew slightly. "Oh, I know. Over the years, I've learned that very lesson—with Maverick's help—but I still cannot help but enjoy the comfort of botany."

She studied his face, finding irony in its perfection. "You are nothing like I thought you'd be, Leo Pearce."

Stepping away from the plant he'd been examining, Leo approached her and whispered, "You're everything I knew you'd be, Scarlett James."

Biting her lip, Scarlett recognized the nervous thrill that ran through her. "How?" she breathed. "How did you know?"

Leo laughed, and it came out low and deep. "For months now—no, two years now—all I've wanted is you," he said. "At first, it was as simple as being drawn by your beauty, by the air of mystery that you carry like a shield. But then I got to know you, Scarlett. I learned of your wit, not so different from my own. I watched you risk everything to help Adelaide. And I realized that you have a mask that you want everyone to see. But I see what's beneath."

Reaching up, Leo twirled one of Scarlett's curls around his finger, her dark hair contrasting with his pale skin. Then he released the strand, letting it bounce upward before moving to trace the same finger down her jawline. "And I just can't help it," Leo murmured. "I just can't help it when I look at you, and my heart starts beating faster. I can't help the way my body and mind respond to you whenever you're near."

Sucking in a breath, Scarlett managed to get out, "Respond, how?"

Leo shook his head. "You don't want to ask me that. Not when you're standing there, doused in the moonlight and looking like a damned goddess." His touch left her face, and he dragged a shaky hand through his blonde hair.

Scarlett examined the shadows on his face, loving the way the stars reflected in his eyes even though his features were shrouded in darkness.

"Yes, I do. Tell me, Leo," she pressed. In her mind, there was nothing more important than Leo's response at this moment.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. With one effective tug, Leo pulled her against him. Scarlett's hands flung up to his chest, catching herself against the hard, muscled wall. "If you're going to insist, then I think I'd rather show you," Leo breathed, using a single fingertip to tilt her face upward.

And then his lips, warm and soft, connected with hers. He kissed Scarlett deeply but languidly, savoring every taste. She immediately allowed him access to every part of her. His mouth wasted no time, coaxing desire from her very core, the feeling spreading through her with every caress.

Scarlett had never been kissed by a man like Leo Pearce before, and she didn't want it to ever stop.

Luckily, it didn't seem that Leo had any intention of doing so.

She felt his hand cup the back of her head, his fingers pressing against her curls and pins. His need to extinguish any bit of distance between them was evident, and Scarlett felt it too. As Leo continued to tease her with his mouth, Scarlett moved her hands up the length of his finely pressed dress coat, wanting to feel more than just fabric. Her fingers danced along embroidery stitching until they reached the hot skin on the back of his neck. She gripped there, her hands pulling at Leo's soft hair.

Leo took two quick steps forward, backing Scarlett into the wall of the conservatory, his lips never leaving hers in the process. The glass was cool, but everything about Leo was hot. His breath, his touch, the look in his eyes. Mixed shivers flew down Scarlett's spine. Leo's finger detangled from her hair, trailing instead down her neck until he was tracing the dip near her collarbone.

He pressed a fast kiss on her lips before breaking away. "You want to know how I respond when you're near?" he gasped, his eyes flicking across her face. "This is how, Scarlett. I want to touch every part of you."

His eyes held hers as his hands brushed over her decolletage, and Scarlett could hardly bear it. She needed more than this whisper of a touch. Leo's hands continued to wander, following the curves of her body until they were resting on her bottom. Without warning, he cupped her firmly so that she was lifted against his powerful, virile form.

She felt his hardness press into her softness—the evidence of how mad Leo truly was for her.

Leo must have seen the way her eyes widened because he smirked ever so slightly before capturing Scarlett's lips again. His tongue dove into her mouth, dancing with hers in a new kind of waltz. A much-improved variety.

The air around them grew even thicker, and Scarlett could feel drops of condensation falling down the back of her dress from the moisture building on the glass walls. Leo began kissing his way past the corner of her mouth, pressing his lips along her jaw before she felt his tongue run down her neck. Scarlett couldn't help but moan with the feeling of him...everywhere.

"You respond the same way, Scarlett." His finger dig into her flesh, even through the many layers of her dress. It was as if his touch burned away the fabric. "I know you do."

"Yes," Scarlett whimpered. She tipped her head back, letting it thud gently against the glass. Her hair would be ruined, but she did not care. She did not care—as long as Leo did not stop.

Leo released a groan at her confession. His hand came up to cup her breast over her gown, pushing the exposed décolletage up and into his mouth. His fingers curled over the seam of her dress like he longed to rip it off of her.

"Scarlett," he breathed across her skin. His eyes flicked up, darkness in them. Desire. He was asking her for permission, and she wanted nothing more than to grant it. She was not accustomed to this feeling. To this desperation coursing through her veins, and curiosity of what might happen overwhelmed her.

Scarlett nodded.

Leo smirked. "Words, darling."

"Yes."

Leo yanked her bodice down, somehow bending inflexible fabric. The tips of her breasts peaked with exposure to the humid air; she felt it caress her skin as tangibly as though she were sinking into a tepid bath.

"Oh, heavens," Leo moaned, his gaze stuck on Scarlett. Awe covered his expression. Fingers brushed over one nipple before pinching it, forcing a gasp out of her. "You are divine."

Before Scarlett could response, Leo bent down and covered his mouth over one dusky nipple.

She cried out in surprise, heat hurling through her. It pulsed between her legs as she felt Leo's tongue explore her, and it was all too much. So much more than Scarlett could ever bear. So much so that she forced herself to break away from him.

"Leo."

He jerked back, releasing her from his grip despite his panting need. "Yes, dear?"

"I'd like to leave."

He appeared a little baffled at first, his eyes clouding over at the request. "Okay," he said through quick breaths.

"I want to go home," Scarlett added, and she couldn't help a sly little smile from escaping onto her lips.

Leo still appeared confused, and perhaps a little hurt, but nodded. "Okay," he repeated.

"With you," Scarlett whispered.

"Of course I'll escort you home, Scarlett," he replied, his eyebrows furrowing.

He was trying so very hard to keep his gaze on her face.

"No, no." Scarlett shook her head and stepped toward him. Wrapping her fingers around his cravat, she gave it a little tug, pulling him down so she could kiss him. Then she breathed against his lips, "No, I'm trying to tell you... I want you to take me home with you, Leo."

His eyes widened.

"Take me home, Leo."