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queens of antiquity. "My own
    Cleopatra," he muttered thickly.
    Augustastiffened and started to draw away. Harry touched her nipple again, lightly, coaxingly. He kissed
    the curve of her throat.
    " Harry ."Augusta gasped, then shivered and sagged heavily against him. Her arms tightened violently
    around his neck. "Oh, Harry. I have been wondering what it would be like…" She kissed his throat and
    clung to him.
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    The sudden flare of passion in her confirmed all his masculine instincts. Harry realized that something in
    him had known all along that she would respond to him like this. What he had not considered or
    expected was the reaction that response would have on him. The reality of her flowering desire swamped
    his senses.
    Keeping her breast cradled in one palm, Harry easedAugusta down to the carpet. She clutched at his
    shoulders, gazing up at him through her lashes. Her beautiful topaz eyes were filled with longing and
    wonder and something that might have been fear.
    Harry groaned as he stretched out beside her and reached for the hem of her gown.
    "My lord—" The words were a bare whisper on her lips.
    "Harry," he corrected again, kissing the rosy nipple he had been caressing with his thumb. Slowly he
    drew the rose silk up the length of her legs to her knees, revealing her delicately striped stockings.
    "Harry, please, I must tell you something. Something important. I would not have you wed me and then
    feel yourself deceived."
    He went very still as an icy fire seized his gut. "What is it you would have me know,Augusta ? Have you
    lain with some other man?"
    She blinked, uncomprehending for an instant. And then her cheeks were suffused with a warm blush.
    "Good heavens, no, my lord. That is not what I wanted to talk about at all."
    "Excellent." Harry smiled faintly as relief and exultation shot through him. Of course she had not been
    with anyone else. All his instincts had told him that weeks ago. Still, it was good to have it confirmed.
    One less problem to concern him, he thought, not without some satisfaction. There was no lover from the
    past with which to contend.Augusta would belong to him completely.
    "The thing is, Harry,"Augusta continued very earnestly, "I fear I will make you a very bad wife. I tried to
    explain to you the other night when you found me inEnfield 's library that I do not consider myself bound
    by the normal strictures of Society. You must remember I am a Northumberland Ballinger. I am not at all
    angelic in the manner of my cousin. I care not for the proprieties and you have made it quite clear that
    you want a very proper sort of wife."
    Harry inched the hem of her gown up a little higher on her legs. His fingers found the incredible softness
    of her inner thighs. "I think that with a little instruction you will make me a very proper sort of wife."
    "I am not at all certain of that, sir," she said, sounding desperate. "It is very hard to change one's
    temperament, you know."
    "I am not asking you to do that."
    "You are not?" she searched his face anxiously. "You actually like me the way I am?"
    "Very much." He kissed her shoulder. "There are, perhaps, one or two areas of concern to be
    addressed. But I am convinced that everything will work out and that you will make me an excellent
    countess."
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    "I see." She bit her lip and clamped her legs together. "Harry, do you love me?"
    He sighed and stilled the movement of his hand on the inside of her thigh. "Augusta, I am aware that
    many modern young ladies such as yourself believe love is some mystical, unique sensation that descends
    like magic without any rational process or explanation. But I hold a different opinion entirely."
    "Of course." The disappointment in her eyes was clear. "I expect you do not believe in love at all, do
    you, my lord? You are a scholar, after all. A student