Victoria tore her mouth free, horrified by what he was doing, and pushed against him with all her strength. “Don’t!” she cried.

He let her go so abruptly that she staggered back a step; then he drew a long, audible breath, holding it for an abnormally long time. Tearing her hostile gaze from Jason’s chest, she glared at him, fully expecting him to lay the blame for this entirely unseemly kiss at her door. “I suppose this was my fault, too,” she said angrily. “No doubt you’ll say I was asking for such treatment!” His mobile mouth twisted into a grim smile and Victoria had the fleeting impression that he was struggling for composure.

“You made the first mistake this afternoon,” he said finally. “This one was mine. I’m sorry.”

“What?” she said, unable to believe her ears.

“Contrary to what you obviously think of me,” he drawled, “I am not in the habit of seducing innocents—”

“I was not in danger of being seduced,” Victoria lied proudly.

Lazy mockery lit his eyes. “Weren’t you?” he asked, as amusement seemed to drain the tension from his body.

“No, I most assuredly was not!”

“Then I suggest you put your clothes on before I’m tempted to show you how wrong you are.”

Victoria opened her mouth to make some suitably scathing remark about his outrageous conceit, but his bold, glinting smile was too much for her. “You’re impossible!” she said lamely.

“You’re right,” he agreed and turned his back so she could dress.

Trying desperately to control her raging emotions and match his casual mood, Victoria hastily dressed. Andrew had kissed her a few times, but never in that way. Never like that. Jason should never have done so, nor should he be so insufferably composed about it. She was quite certain she had every right to be furious with him, but perhaps things were different in England. Perhaps ladies here took such kisses in stride. Perhaps she would only look a fool if she made an issue of it. Even if she did make an issue of it, Jason would merely shrug the kiss aside as insignificant, which he was already doing. She had nothing to gain by stirring up hostility in him, and she had everything to lose. Still, she could not entirely control her pique. “You really are impossible,” she said again.

“We’ve already agreed on that.”

“You’re unpredictable as well.”

“In what way?”

“Well, I almost thought you were going to hit me for frightening you. Instead you kissed me.” Leaning down, she picked up John’s boat. “I’m beginning to think you’re much like your dog—you both look far more fierce than you really are.”

For once she saw his complacent, knowing facade crack a bit. “My dog?” he echoed blankly.

“Willie,” she clarified.

“You must be terrified of canaries if you find Willie fierce.”

“I’m coming to the conclusion there’s no reason to be afraid of either of you.”

A smile touched the corners of his sensual lips as he took the little boat from her. “Don’t mention that to anyone else, or you’ll ruin my reputation.”

Victoria wrapped the blanket around her, then tipped her head to the side. “Do you have one?”

“Of the worst sort,” he averred flatly, shooting her a challenging look. “Shall I tell you the sordid details?”

“Certainly not,” Victoria said primly. Hoping that perhaps Jason’s mild contrition over the kiss would make him more pliable, Victoria summoned up the courage to broach the subject that had been bothering her for days. “There’s a way you can atone for your ‘mistake,’ ” she said tentatively as they walked toward the house.

Jason shot her a measuring look. “I would say one mistake offset the other. However, what is it you want?”

“I want my clothes back.”

“No.”

“You don’t understand,” she cried, her emotions jangled by the kiss and now by his implacable attitude. “I am in mourning for my parents.”

“I do understand; however, I do not believe that grief is ever so great that it cannot be contained within, and I don’t believe in the outward display of mourning. Moreover, Charles and I want you to build a new life here—one you can enjoy.”

“I don’t need a new life!” Victoria said desperately. “I am only here until Andrew comes for me and—”

“He isn’t going to come for you, Victoria,” Jason said. “He’s only written you one letter in all these months.”

The words stabbed through Victoria’s brain like hot daggers. “He will come, I tell you. There was only enough time to receive one letter before I left.”

Jason’s expression hardened. “I hope you are right. However, I forbid you to wear black. Grieving is done in the heart.”

“How would you know?” Victoria burst out, whirling on him, her hands clenched at her sides. “If you had a heart, you’d not force me to parade around in these clothes as if my parents had never existed. You don’t have a heart!”

“You’re right,” he bit out, his voice all the more frightening because it was so low. “I don’t have a heart. Remember that, and don’t deceive yourself into believing that beneath my fierce exterior, I’m as tame as a lapdog. Dozens of women have made that mistake and regretted it.”

Victoria walked away from him on legs that shook. How could she have imagined they might be friends! He was cold and cynical and hard; he had a vicious, unreliable temper; and besides that he was obviously unbalanced! No sane man could kiss a woman with tenderness and passion one moment, then become outrageously flirtatious, only to turn cold and hateful a mere moment later. He was no lapdog—he was as dangerous and unpredictable as the panther he resembled!

Despite the fact that she walked as quickly as she could, Jason’s long strides kept him easily beside her and they arrived at the circular drive in front of the house at the same time.

The Earl of Collingwood was waiting for them, already mounted on his splendid sorrel with John comfortably ensconced in front of him.

Embarrassed and angry, Victoria bade the earl a brief good-bye, smiled lamely at John and handed him his sailboat, then rushed inside.

John watched her, looked at Jason, then turned anxiously to his father. “He didn’t give Miss Tory a thrashing, did he?”

The earl lifted his amused glance from Jason’s wet shirt-front to his lordship’s face. “No, John, Lord Fielding did not give her a thrashing.” To Jason he said, “Shall I ask Caroline to call upon Miss Seaton tomorrow?”