“Nonsense,” Cross said. “There’s always a trail when it comes to money.”

“Not this money,” Bourne replied.

“Family money?”

“He’s not landed. There appears to be no one but the sister,” she said.

“So, he had a mysterious benefactor,” Temple said. “So did we at the beginning.” The Duke of Leighton had bankrolled his sister’s whim, with the understanding that no one ever know his identity – a condition to which Georgiana had been only too happy to agree.

She met the Duke of Lamont’s black gaze. “You’re saying he’s a man with no secrets.”

“I’m saying that he’s a man with no interesting secrets.”

She shook her head. “Everyone has an interesting secret. West is man enough to have more than one. So tell me, why don’t we know them?”

Temple’s gaze narrowed on her. “You can’t mean to search for them.”

She did not like the condemnation in his tone. “You’ve never stopped me before. When we founded this casino, it was with the understanding that you were in charge of the ring, Bourne the tables, Cross the books. And I was in charge of the information we needed to ensure that the venture succeeded.”

Cross spoke up. “If you do this, you play with fire. He has a great deal of power.”

“As do I.”

“But his power grows as Chase’s is diminished. Your secrets will destroy you.”

“West won’t discover the truth.”

Cross did not look so certain. “They always learn the truth.”

“Who?”

He did not answer the question, which suited her fine, as she did not like the hint of what he might have said. “Do not tempt the lion, Anna. Not this one. Not one who is so much a friend.”

She thought of the kiss earlier in the evening. There was nothing about it that was friendly. Indeed, it had pleasured and tempted and teased and devastated, but it had not been friendly. It had done nothing but make her want him, and she knew that wanting a man was not the same as trusting him. She’d learned that the last time she’d been kissed. The first time she’d been kissed.

She needed protection from him.

Not him. The thought whispered through her.

Perhaps it was right. Perhaps she did not need protection from him. Perhaps she needed protection from herself. From how he made her feel.

But either way, one thing was certain.

“Friend or foe, he knows my secrets.” She looked to her partners. “I need to know his.”

She was saved from having to face their questions by a knock at the door. Cross called for the newcomer to enter – only a handful of people knew the owners’ suite existed, each person trusted without question.

Justin Day, the casino’s pit boss, entered, finding her instantly, and crossing the room to her.

“Is it done?” she asked.

The majordomo nodded once. “Burlington, Montlake, and Russell, each happy to end their suit.”

Bourne turned curious. “Suit of whom?”

Temple replied, “Aren’t they all after the Earl of Holborn’s girl?”

Four heads turned in the duke’s direction. Georgiana voiced their collective disdain. “Your newfound interest in Society is terribly unsettling.”

Temple shrugged one enormous shoulder. “They are after her, though, aren’t they?”

Not since Lady Mary Ashehollow called Caroline a whore, they weren’t.

She did not reply, and neither did Justin. “There is more,” he said.

She turned to a nearby clock, noted the time, and knew without asking what news he brought. “Lady Tremley.”

Justin nodded. “At the ladies’ entrance.”

Bourne’s brows rose. “How did you know that?”

“What is she doing here?” Cross asked.

“She was invited,” she said, drawing a dark look from her partners.

“We did not discuss inviting her,” Temple said.

No, they hadn’t. She had sent the invitation within the hour of West’s leaving, several days earlier.

She did not tell them the whole truth, afraid that they might reject West’s request. Afraid they would not realize how much she needed West. The fear made her angry. She did not like feeling out of control. “I made a decision for all of us.”

“She’s dangerous. Tremley is dangerous,” Bourne warned. “If she offers his information – if he finds out —”

“I am not a child,” she reminded him. “I can connect the spots. What of the lady?”

Justin said, “Bruno says she’s a black eye.”

“Ah. Vengeance, thy name is woman.”

“If her husband is such a coward that he must resort to beating his wife, I’ll personally help her exact it,” Bourne said.

Justin replied. “She asks for Chase.”

“She shall have Anna instead.” She turned and smoothed her skirts.

Bourne met her gaze. “Be careful. I don’t like you dressed like a whore when none of us are there to protect you.”

“This isn’t a dark alley in the East End.”

“Chase,” he said, using the name he’d given her a half decade earlier, reminding them all of their history. “This is much more dangerous.”

She smiled, warm with the knowledge that they worried about her, this motley band of rogues she’d amassed. “Yes, but it is danger of my own design. I’m native to it.”

Bourne looked to the stained glass, his gaze lingering on Lucifer’s wings, useless as he fell. “It does not mean that there won’t come a day when it will swallow you up.”