Lizzie's gaze was glued to her face. "Except that what?" she whispered, her eyes wide and mirroring something close to horror.

Annabel wet her lips. "I seduced him."

"You what?"

"I seduced Braxton, Lizzie, it was not the other way around. Because I wanted to be ruined, so I would not have to marry Harold Talbot or some other idiot like him." Annabel stared. She could not quite believe that she had told her sister the truth, no matter how, much she loved her and how close they were.

Lizzie gaped at her.

Annabel shrugged, tears filling her own eyes. "Something is wrong with me, isn't it? As Missy keeps saying? Reckless, that's what they say. Reckless, impulsive, headstrong."

Lizzie was crying again, but quietly. She hugged Annabel hard. And when she pulled away, she said, "You are different, there is no question of that, but there is nothing wrong with you." Her gaze was searching. "I hope you are telling the truth. But I cannot think of why you would lie about something like that in order to protect him. Oh, Annabel!"

"I am telling the truth. He is not a cad." Annabel smiled and sighed. "I wish he were, for then this would be so very easy." For then she would not be in love with him.

"But he is here," Lizzie said after a pause. "Braxton is here, and you were with him at the beach. Annabel, what are you doing? Please, just this once, stop and think! You must stay away from him."

"I have been thinking. The truth is, all I have done since he arrived yesterday was to think. Will you keep my secret?" Annabel asked. "Will you keep our secret? Please?"

Lizzie did not speak at first. "I could never betray you, you know that."

Annabel hugged her in relief. And when she opened her eyes, she saw Melissa standing behind them, staring at them with wide eyes.

Chapter Nine

Annabel stared at her sister. Melissa smiled and came forward. "I was about to take a walk and I saw the two of you standing here," she said. "Are you about to stroll? May I join you?"

Her relief knew no bounds. It did not seem as if Melissa had overheard their conversation. Unfortunately, though, Annabel did not completely trust her sister-she had eavesdropped far too many times. She regarded her closely. "Actually, Lizzie merely wanted to speak with me-about my walk earlier this morning on the beach."

If Melissa knew that the subject of their conversation was Braxton, or that Annabel had met him on the beach, she gave no sign. "Oh. Well, I do not want to walk alone. Lizzie, will you join me?"

Lizzie shook her head. "Actually, I have a horrid headache and I must lie down." Not looking at Annabel, she lifted her skirts and hurried toward the hotel entrance. Both sisters watched her go.

"What is wrong with her?" Melissa turned wide eyes upon Annabel. "She is so upset. What have you said, or, what have you done now?"

Annabel smiled and said calmly, "We had a very private conversation, and I think I shall go to my rooms now, too."

Melissa did not reply, but this time, from the look in her eyes, Annabel had the awful feeling that she knew everything.

From across the dining room, Braxton smiled at her.

Annabel's nerves had been on edge ever since she had come down to supper, both wishing that he would be there, and wishing that he would not be so foolish. Now her heart went wild. She looked away, feeling her cheeks burning. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw that Lizzie had noticed the entire intimate exchange.

Annabel quickly looked at Melissa. But if she had noticed, she gave no sign. She was enjoying her prime rib.

Annabel swallowed, the hair on her arms still raised, and cautiously looked his way. He dined with the countess, what nerve! Did he intend to rob her this evening?

And would he make love to her in order to do so?

Annabel thought about their conversation on the beach that morning. It was unforgettable, like the man himself. But she would be an idiot to believe anything that he had said about his feelings for her.

"You have no appetite, Annabel. In fact, you seem upset," Melissa remarked, laying down her knife and fork, having finished most of her course.

Annabel's food was untouched. "I'm afraid I spoiled my appetite this afternoon with a box of chocolates," Annabel lied, her gaze straying of its own volition toward Braxton again.

The countess leaned against him, regaling him with some tale or another. Her blond escort, Sir Linville, was openly annoyed. Braxton appeared completely at ease- and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

Melissa turned and stared at the Rossini party. "How fascinated you are by the countess," she said. "Or is it that handsome Englishman she seems so enamored of?"

Annabel could hardly breathe. "A rich Italian widow hardly fascinates me." She forced herself to eat.

"I am fascinated by the countess," Lizzie interjected a bit too quickly. "Imagine being that beautiful, and having so many men falling all over themselves for your attention!" She shot Annabel a warning look. Her cheeks were highly flushed.

"You are that beautiful, and your hardly need more than one man falling all over himself for your attention," Adam said. "And that man is myself."

Lizzie smiled at her husband. He smiled back at her. Annabel watched them, wondering what it would be like to be so cherished by a wonderful man-and to cherish him in return. She did not dare look at Braxton again. But she had to face her innermost feelings. She wanted Braxton to be that enamored of her, the way Adam was of Lizzie, so much so that he would hardly glance at another woman.

She reminded herself that he was going to burglarize the countess, and then he would be on his way. If he was not caught, that is.

And if he did escape, then she would never see him again.

And suddenly Annabel felt as if she were on the vast precipice of life. The future loomed before her, a huge and dark void. Alone, she thought. She would forever be alone.

Unless she took her destiny into her own hands.

She lurked in the shadows at the end of the hall. It was close to two in the morning, and the last of the hotel's festive-minded guests had gone to bed-except for the countess and Braxton.

Annabel had been hiding on the hotel's top floor for over two hours, waiting for them to retire. She heard the elevator whirring and stiffened, crouching down low. She was rewarded when the elevator's brass door opened and Braxton escorted the countess out. She was exquisite in a red lace evening gown, but she was also tipsy, and clinging firmly to his arm.

Annabel bit her lip hard, tears stinging her eyes, thinking how easy it would be for him to seduce her now, let her fall asleep, and make off with her jewels. Her heart hurt.

The countess was laughing huskily at something he had said. She could not seem to find her keys in her beaded purse, and she swayed a bit on her black satin high-heeled shoes.

"Allow me," he said with a smile. In a moment he had found her keys and opened the door to her suite.

She smiled at him, poised to enter her apartments.

"Good night, Guilia," he said.

Annabel's eyes widened in shock.

"Pierce? Surely you wish to come in?" The countess was as surprised as Annabel.

He smiled again and tilted up her chin. "My darling lady, I have no wish to be dangled upon your strings like the other men you collect."

Her eyes widened, and then she smiled, rubbing his chest beneath his black dinner jacket. "Do I dangle men?" she purred.

"You do."

"Perhaps it would be so very enjoyable for both of us," she whispered, staring up at him.

"I imagine so, but in truth, Linville is smitten with you, Guilia, and you would be foolish to throw such a gentleman away. His intentions, I believe, are honorable. Unlike mine," he added wryly.