The pretty little thing didn't look the slightest bit frightened to have a gun waved at her. Her eyes were wide enough, but unless Plunkett missed his guess, she was excited by the situation. "You didn't say 'Stand and deliver!'" she informed him. "That's what they always say in the books."

"This isn't a book," he pointed out, gesturing at her jewelry, and she started like she'd forgotten she was being robbed.

"Do you ever say it?" she asked as she removed her gold earbobs, handing them over without a word of protest.

"Occasionally. Bracelets." She slipped them off her wrists, and Plunkett's eyes followed their trail, telling himself he was making sure she didn't palm anything because he certainly wasn't noticing how tiny her hands were.

"Do each of you have your own part of the road? Or do you just hope no one else is nearby?" The little minx was certainly full of questions, and he bit back a smile at her enthusiasm.

"Thinking of taking up a new line of work?" He took the bracelets from her and jerked his head at her ornate diamond necklace. That would fetch a pretty price.

"Well, I did always want to see the world," she said seriously, and it took him a second to realize she was teasing him.

"Necklace," he prompted, unwilling to engage her any farther in conversation. He couldn't afford to. He was enjoying it too much.

She handed over the diamonds, leaving her bare of jewelry save for the pearl still around her neck, dangling on a delicate gold chain. "And that."

To his surprise, the chit shied back, her hand covering her necklace. "Oh no. Oh no, please. This… it was my mother's. It's all I have of hers." Looking around the fine carriage, she continued, "Take something else, please. I must have something else you want."

She rifled desperately, her face a picture of consternation, and he couldn't do it. The little pearl was all but worthless in comparison to the diamonds anyway. It was worth more around her pretty neck than in his hand. "Please take something else," she pleaded.

For one insane moment, he thought to claim a kiss. One kiss from a noble lady's plush lips would be one hell of a prize, but if she was loathe to lose her necklace, she'd be considerably more unwilling to surrender a kiss.

He holstered his pistol and retrieved his dagger, hearing her gasp when he drew it. A quick flick netted him his prize: one chestnut curl. "Instead of the necklace."

She beamed at him and he tucked the curl into his jacket pocket, wondering if he was losing his mind. "Thank you," she breathed like he'd done her a favor instead of robbing her blind, and he couldn't ride away fast enough, her face hovering before his eyes.

For one moment, she'd looked like she wouldn't have minded if he'd stolen a kiss.