She could just picture them the day she had overheard them at Sherburne House, toasting the success of their little scheme to have Jeremy pretend to lust after her. High-handed wretches, the two of them.

That memory alone ought to keep her on her course. Jeremy must be punished for his complicity and her father for his presumption, and who cared what indignities she had to suffer.

She would make Jeremy suffer, too. But how-how? What if… Another thought struck her. What if… Could she? In spite of that awful kiss? What if she could make Jeremy fall in love with her?

Wouldn't that be too delicious? Oh, it would serve him right. It would be such a triumph, to set her sights on Jeremy, captivate him, and then throw him over.

And all in the course of pretending to pursue Raulton. What a scheme.

If she could get past that horrible kiss. And anything else he had in store for her. Nonsense, she could get past anything. What was a kiss, after all? It was the rest of it that gave her pause-the part about it being the least of what she could expect from Raulton.

What was the most?

Well, she had some idea. She lived in the country, after all. She had been to the barn. Of course, animals didn't kiss so that didn't enter into it. Blast it, would she never stop thinking about that kiss?

Probably not. And maybe it was best to initiate another one, and another so that she would not be so shocked next time. A person could get used to anything, she thought stringently. And how unpleasant could it be after that?

"Well," Reginald said suddenly, loudly, putting down his cup with exaggerated care, "I beg you'll excuse me. I have some letters to write and, of course, Almack's tonight. Have you secured an invitation, Jeremy?"

He slanted a glance at Regina. "Not yet." "Oh do," Regina urged him. "I fear I am fatigued and will want only to stay home tonight. But every matchmaking mother will welcome you with open arms, dear Jeremy."

"I think," Reginald said carefully, "I will leave now." He got up slowly, as if his bones ached, or maybe it was just his sensibilties, because he was exhausted dealing with his daughter. But sometimes he did look rather small and frail, Regina thought, watching him depart, and even she perceived it was not the burden of the Season weighing him down.

All would be fine in the morning, she was certain of it. Her father was nothing if not resilient. The question to hand now was Jeremy. What to do about Jeremy lounging in the wing chair and looking insufferably arrogant and male, like a lion who has cornered its prey. She felt cornered, constricted, and somehow he made her feel all that while he was still sitting some ten feet away from her.

The power of a man on the hunt was something to be reckoned with, she mused, an excellent lesson for any woman to comprehend.

"And so," Jeremy murmured, "you eschew Almack's tonight, knowing full well Raulton will be there. I would think you would want to put yourself in his way whenever you could."

"Do I? You tell me, Jeremy dear. Does a man like a woman who is obvious? Do I want to look as if I am chasing him? Or would it profit me more to continue on with our lessons so I will have the wherewithal to handle him when the time comes?"

A faint smile played around his mouth. "Yes, yes and yes."

"Thank you for nothing," Regina snapped. "You are of no use this morning whatsoever. Perhaps you ought to go." And in fact, she hadn't expected him to stay. So now what?

"I'm very comfortable where I am, thank you. And we have a long way to go. I don't think I've ever seen such aversion to my kisses. Obviously, I have much to learn myself. Or perhaps I should present some testimonials next time I want to kiss you…?"

Her chin went up. "You took me by surprise is all. And how many women have you kissed, by the way?"

"Enough to know not to confess my sins to you," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

Oh, and now he was laughing at her. She had never felt at such a disadvantage before. Blast him. Blast the strictures of a society that kept a woman ignorant of everything.

The real question was, how far she would go in her spurious quest for carnal knowledge. She eyed Jeremy consideringly over the rim of her cup. That kiss notwithstanding, there was nothing dislikable about Jeremy except that he knew her too long and too well. Not a disadvantage, except-that kiss. And maybe that was why it had shocked her so. If she had feelings for him, it probably would have been wholly different.

So, it was just a matter of getting used to it. A woman could get used to anything. At least, that was what her father kept telling her, and this was obviously what he meant.

He meant the forbidden things. The things no one talked about, except men in their clubs late at night as virgins slept and mistresses waited and anticipated.

Her instinct was utterly right about that: even to pretend to tame a man like Raulton, any woman had to know things. Carnal things. Forbidden things. Things that mistresses knew.

Well, here was she, with a man at her beckoning who was willing and ready to show her everything she needed to know. And Jeremy was not unattractive, in his cocksure way.

So there could be no more shriveling up at his kisses-because for all she knew, he had a new mistress, so she must be every bit as eager and responsive to even keep him interested enough to continue with her plan.

How hard could that be?

She bit her lip. Deuced hard, when a woman didn't know what she wanted or how to ask for it. No, she had asked for it, and then she had gone and reordered the rules, forgetting there was another component of the game: her father's scheme to circumvent her pursuit of Raulton.

And he had just gone and left her and Jeremy alone.

So, she thought, new gambit and Jeremy's move.

"Well, at least you didn't faint dead away at the word sins," Jeremy commented dryly, watching her intently. "Perhaps you can be educated after all."

That fired her up. "I'll have you know I had an excellent education," she retorted indignantly. "Just not in the more- carnal-things in life. You are supposed to give me the… the Grand Tour."

"Believe me, I'll love to give you the grand tour," Jeremy muttered, "but that's neither here nor there to your desire to attract Marcus Raulton. Which, by the way, is totally incomprehensible to me."

"Truly? But it is so simple: he's rich, well-favored, romantic, and interesting. A woman of spirit and intelligence could never be bored by him. Which is as reasonable a basis for marriage as any other I know. Do you not think, Jeremy?"

"I think I don't want to think," Jeremy said with teeth-clenching restraint. "It's enough to know that you are the veriest innocent and you are playing with fire when it comes to Raulton."

"Then I will get burned. But I will have him, by hook or by crook. And if you won't help me, I warrant he can teach me to kiss as well as anyone else." She slanted a derisive look at him. "Certainly as well as you."

And there he was, between the devil and the dawn, with his honor at the sticking point. How easily her taunting words rolled off her tongue. He could think of better things to do with it than just sit and listen to her. But he couldn't just take her. So it was time for some decisive action.

It was a calculated risk, granted, but he knew how to handle skittish virgins who were too full of themselves, in spite of what she thought.

"Fine," he said, levering himself out of the wing chair.

Immediately she was up and on her feet. "What do you mean fine?"

"I mean, make your proposition to anyone else-or Mr. Raulton, if you must. It is nothing to me."

This was not going the way she had thought, and how was it that Jeremy was giving up on Reginald's scheme already? Blast him.

But perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps he was playing the opposite field to bring her up to the fore. What was this game? Was she not in charge? He couldn't just change the rules. Blast it, she would be in charge.

"Jeremy…"

He held up his hand. "Don't play at cross purposes with me, Regina. I'm not some choice spirit you can wind around your little finger."

"So I see," she murmured.

"Perhaps we know each other too well," Jeremy went on, ignoring that. "Perhaps it was ill-considered of me to consent to such folly."

He was leaving, he was leaving. Blast, blast and blast. How would she, how could she stop him…?

She swallowed, hard. "Perhaps we should try again…"

He stopped in mid-step. "Excuse me?"

"I said, perhaps we-I-should try again."

"Try…?" He wanted to make this as hard as possible for her.

"… kissing…"

"Kissing. Kissing? You who quaked and trembled and rubbed your lips as if you had kissed a frog, you want to kiss me-again?"

"Jeremy-don't…"

"My lady wants to humiliate me yet again?"

"Jeremy…"

"You don't know your own mind, Regina. If you can't bear to kiss even me, however are you going to deal with Raulton?"

How, indeed, Regina thought mordantly, watching him warily. She couldn't tell just which way his sentiments lay or how he would react if he knew Raulton was beside the point altogether.

"That is what I want you to teach me," she said, reasonably, she hoped.

He wasn't feeling reasonable-or responsible, even. He was feeling primitive, brutal. Male. "High-strung virgins don't ap-peal to me-or to any man," he growled. "You wonder why men keep mistresses. Here is a case in point. Mistresses freely want a man, and never shrink from any sensual experiences with him. A mistress welcomes him and offers herself to him for his pleasure.

"Why would any man waste his time and energy coaxing and coddling a cowering innocent when his mistress will willingly give him everything he wants? Things you can't even imagine, my lady. Things that would put you in a dead faint for a week if they were demanded of you."

Oh, that was cold-blooded. He had shocked her, as he had intended, and more than that, even. She was as still as a statue, her eyes blazing, and some devil in him pushed him to elaborate further.

"And that's the reality of it, and something that can't be taught. Raulton must keep a half dozen mistresses with whom you cannot hope to compete. Give it up now, and eventually some dandy with exquisite sensibilities and no animal desires will ride up on his white horse and carry you off and immure you in the castle where no one will ever have to touch you-or kiss you."

She felt as if she had turned to stone. She hated him. She hated the game. All she wanted in that fraught moment was to be a mistress, a woman who was versed in the erotic arts, and who knew exactly how to fascinate and keep a man.

"Do you have a mistress?" she asked tightly.

"I think that is none of your business."

"Do you?"

He turned away. This was the last thing he thought he would have to confess. "What if I did?"

"And yet you consented to teach me…"

"A game, my lady. Men play it all the time."

Didn't they just? she thought furiously. They did the dirty with some delicious and willing woman, and they put every other woman up on a pedestal. But not her. Not her.

"Then let's play, Jeremy." Her voice was strung as taut as a bow. "I have too much at stake and too little time. I want you to kiss me."

"Do you take me for a fool?"

"Kiss me, Jeremy."

Was he a fool? What man would turn down Regina, even at the cost of some wounded pride?

But then-there was his promise to Reginald to distract and divert, and they were at a convergence of wants and needs. It was just amazing how a man could find an excuse to do anything he wanted to do.

"Then come to me, Regina."

She almost thought she couldn't move. Her body felt stiff and awkward, but it was fueled by a new unexpected resolve, one that had nothing to do with Raulton or revenge. And so she put one foot after the other and went toward him, at his command.

"And now what, Jeremy?"

She looked as though she was going into battle with her blazing eyes and challenging words. He had a latent urge to conquer her, to subdue her, and make her beg.

Could he? The thought intrigued him. Would he?

He reached out and cupped her chin. "You're very beautiful, you know."

"That's not what I want to know," she said sharply.

"No. You want all the secrets, now. Things learned through my life's experience bedding women. You had better lower your sights, my lady. You can't know everything and you can only take one step at a time."