With a single candle lighting the way and a sheer wrapper covering her nightrail, Sophie padded barefoot through the town house's halls and through to the back of the house where a glass conservatory provided a gateway to the gardens beyond. The air in the conservatory was warm and moist. Exotic blooms, lovingly tended by the household gardener, laced the thick air with a symphony of scents that were as rich as they were sweet.

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, remembering. She'd spend hours out here with her mother, tending to the most delicate blooms.

Had she really not taken the time to personally care for these plants, plants her mother had left in her care since her death? Sophie couldn't remember. She did know that it had been several weeks since she'd even visited the conservatory, though.

Since her parents' deaths, the conservatory had become a difficult part of the house for her to visit. There seemed to be too many memories waiting to assault her in here. Strangely, the memories didn't prick the back of her throat this time as she soaked in the myriad of scents under the cloak of nighttime.

No, tonight the air simply felt hot and sensual against her skin... pulling faint memories of her erotic dream up to the surface to thrum in concert with her pulse.

"I wonder what Lord Benton-Black would do if he were to find me alone and draped in such diaphanous fabrics?"

"Why don't you come over here and find out?" a velvety voice whispered in the darkness.

Sophie sucked in a deep breath, her hand reaching for her throat. "Who is there?" Was she still trapped in her dream?

Uncertain, she raised the candle she held but, in the trembling light, saw no one. The long-leafed plants and small trees created long, deep shadows that a single candle had no hope of piercing.

"Who is there?" she whispered again.

After far too many frightening, breathless moments, a shadowy figure emerged from behind a long table of showy orchids.