Filled with determination, he was about to reenter the ballroom when he experienced a strong sensation of being watched. His gaze searched the dimly lit terrace, the people standing in groups chatting, then the fenced garden and couples strolling the paths, and noted no one looking at him. Bloody hell, now he was imagining things.
Without further delay he rejoined the party. And was immediately waylaid by his hostess, Lady Gatesbourne. Only a lifetime of breeding kept him from shaking off the overbearing woman whose gaze bore an unmistakable matchmaking gleam. And who was dropping extremely unsubtle hints that she'd like to dance. Bloody hell. Resigned to being polite-but only because she was his hostess-he partnered her in a cotillion. Immediately after the dance, however, he made her a formal bow and set about finding Carolyn.
His lungs ceased working in that strange way they had when he finally spotted her. By God, she was lovely, her upswept honey-colored hair gleaming under the dozens of candles glittering in the crystal chandeliers. Her gown was the exact shade of aquamarines, and his imagination instantly conjured him clasping a strand of the pale blue gems around her slender neck. Then removing her gown, leaving her dressed in only his jewels. And a welcoming smile… yes, that would be very nice.
He blinked away the sensual image and noticed that just then she did smile… but not at him. No, she was once again smiling at that bastard Jennsen. Who was smiling back. With that look in his eye. And two other gentlemen hovered nearby, studying her like predatory animals sniffing out a particularly tasty morsel. The same gut-tightening he was becoming accustomed to experiencing whenever matters concerning Carolyn were involved seized him and he quickened his steps. By the time he reached her, he was hot and annoyed and wanted nothing more than to introduce Jennsen, as well as those other two, to the bloody flagstones.
"Good evening, Lady Wingate," he said, halting in front of her and offering a formal bow. He flicked a glance at her companion. "Jennsen."
The warmth that had been in her eyes for Jennsen turned cool as she gazed upon Daniel, and the knot in his stomach tightened further. "Lord Surbrooke," she murmured.
"I have it on good authority that the next dance is a waltz. Would you do me the honor?" A rather brusque invitation, which only increased his annoyance, this time at himself for again lacking finesse.
She hesitated, and appeared about to refuse, but then nodded. "Very well."
After excusing herself to Jennsen, who appeared wholly amused, damn him, she placed her fingertips on Daniel's extended arm. A tingle ran up his elbow in spite of the fact that she touched him with what appeared to be all the enthusiasm one would display toward a poisonous insect.
As soon as the music started, he swept her in to his arms. And breathed his first easy breath of the entire night.
"You look stunning," he said, his heart beating ridiculously fast as his gaze devoured her.
"Thank you."
"I'm very glad you decided to attend the party."
She lifted her chin. "I saw no reason not to. Julianne is one of my closest friends."
He could almost hear her adding in a defiant voice, And I wasn't about to let you scare me off. Excellent. He'd known she was brave. She merely needed to assert that repressed aspect of herself more. He certainly hoped she would do so where he was concerned.
After savoring the feel of her in his arms for several turns, he couldn't stop himself from speaking the simple truth. "I've thought of nothing else except you all day."
One elegant brow arched upward and a whiff of amusement entered her eyes. "That is obvious, given your attentiveness this evening."
Hmmm. Did she sound… irritated? Satisfaction filled him at the possibility. "You've had my full attention all evening, I assure you." At her look of disbelief, he spread his fingers wider against her back and pulled her several inches closer. Then in a voice only she could hear, he said, "You require proof? Very well. Since your arrival you've eaten four canapes and sipped three glasses of punch. You've chatted with eleven women, including your sister, Lady Emily, Lady Julianne, and five gentlemen, including your brother-in-law and Mr. Jennsen-twice. You've smiled twenty-seven times, frowned eight, laughed fifteen, sneezed once, and haven't danced until now."
Her eyes widened. "You made that up."
"I did not. But I forgot one thing. You are unequivocally the most beautiful woman in the room."
A blush stained her cheeks, and it was all he could do not to lean down and touch his lips to the beguiling color. "For the sake of politeness," he continued, "I danced with my hostess and my hostess's daughter, yet even then you occupied my thoughts. I've been looking forward to this moment, to holding you in my arms, ever since I arrived."
He watched her, wondering if he'd gone too far, if his blatant honesty would frighten her off. He hoped not, because he couldn't seem to stop himself. Couldn't bring himself to prevaricate with her.
Finally she cleared her throat. "Actually, I'm glad for this opportunity to speak with you, my lord."
"Daniel… my extremely lovely, very dear, greatly talented, highly amusing, and extraordinarily intelligent Lady Wingate." His gaze dipped to her mouth. "Who possesses the most kissable lips I've ever seen."
Her blush deepened and she glanced around, as if to make certain no one had heard his quiet comment. "That is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Your very kissable lips? Excellent, as it is a subject I'm anxious to explore further."
She shook her head. "That is not what I meant." She appeared to draw a bracing breath. "I've considered your… offer."
"That we become lovers?"
"Yes. I'm afraid I must decline."
He studied her closely. There was determination in her eyes, but something else. Something that looked like regret. Tension radiated off her, making it clear she expected an argument from him. And God knows he wanted to give her one. Actually what he wanted to do was drag her off to some dark, private quiet corner and kiss her, touch her, until she changed her mind.
But neither arguing nor dragging was in his best interests. No, best to allow her to win this battle. Let her think she was in control. Because he had every intention of winning the war. And making her lose control. In his arms. And in his bed.
Therefore, like every general who'd just lost a battle, he regrouped and prepared to outflank.
He nodded. "Very well. I understand."
Her nonplussed reaction indicated she had anticipated an argument. Keeping his expression carefully blank, he added, "Although you've no desire for us to become lovers, I hope we can continue to be what we've been all along-friends."
"I… well, yes. I suppose-"
"Excellent. I bid you a good evening." He offered her a formal bow, then walked away, absorbing her stare, which he felt boring into his back. And forced himself not to turn around.
Chapter Nine
I didn't know him very well, but that didn't seem to matter much when he glided his hand up my leg. And not at all when his mouth followed the same path.
Memoirs of a Mistress by An Anonymous Lady
When Daniel arrived home, rather than finding his household dark and asleep, lights blazed in several windows and he was greeted at the door by Samuel.
"Ye'll never guess wot, milord," the footman said before Daniel had even removed his hat.
Uh-oh. The fact that whatever animal Samuel had rescued this time merited him waiting up to tell him about it didn't bode well.