He might have offered to toss her off a cliff for the look she gave him. With visible reluctance, she accepted.
IN SPITE OF her rancor at his having humiliated her in front of her peers, the moment their naked fingers touched, rivulets of fire began to snake down Sabrina’s spine, traveling all the way to her suddenly curling toes. Time slowed to a crawl as if, like her, it needed to pause for breath.
In that instant, everything came into sharp focus and she saw the man in front of her. Ten years had wrought great changes in him. Gone was the awkward, lanky youth, replaced by a man who projected strength, solidity, and confidence. His blue-violet eyes darkened to midnight as he stared back at her, eliciting a strange tugging sensation deep in her belly.
Hoping her face didn’t look as flushed as she suspected it did, she jerked her gaze away. What is the matter with me? Just because he’s—she grudgingly acknowledged the truth—pretty doesn’t mean he’s not still a great oaf. Stay focused! She wrested her attention away to see if Fairford was watching as they made their way to the dance floor. She couldn’t see him amid the crush. If he was watching, would he care that she was dancing with Montgomery?
Her spirits rose. This little hiccup could work to her advantage, if she played it right. Let Fairford see her beauty and grace displayed on another man’s arm. Let him see his fellow sex falling at her feet, and he’d soon be next in line.
Montgomery smiled down at her as they began moving with the music, a minuet. Breath barely made it into her chest for the clamor in her heart at the sight.
In a blink, Fairford was utterly forgotten. Everything was forgotten as they glided through the complex weave of turns and dips, touching and separating, touching again. And every time they made contact, the unsettling river of tingles intensified, pooling in the secret place between her legs.
The music wrapped around her like a living thing, seeming to carry her forward without any conscious effort on her part. When it finally stopped, she felt bereft, as if her body had somehow forgotten how to move without it.
Bowing over her hand, Montgomery brushed its back with his lips. “An honor and a pleasure, my lady.”
Realizing she was standing there like a half-wit, she snatched her scorched fingers away. “Likewise, my lord.”
“May I offer you something to drink?”
Damn! She’d hoped to excuse herself before he could say anything else, but…her mouth was parched. Her gaze drifted to the french doors leading out to the terrace. They were closed against the frigid flakes swirling beyond. It looked utterly miserable, and yet suddenly she longed to be out there in it, if only to escape the heat and turmoil boiling away inside her.
“Thank you. It is a bit warm in here,” she finally said.
She watched as he snatched a glass from a passing tray and dashed its contents into a potted orange tree. He then went to the door she’d gazed at so longingly only moments before and opened it, letting in a blast of icy air and the snapping scent of clean snow.
Slipping and sliding his way to the balustrade, Montgomery scooped up a glassful of w
hite from its top and came back. He held the goblet out to another passing servant, bidding him fill it from the bottle he bore.
She accepted the chilled wine and took a refreshing sip. It was delicious. “I doubt any gentleman here has ever gone to such lengths to fetch a drink for a lady,” she said, smiling in spite of herself. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.”
She felt herself heating again from the inside out as his gaze lingered on her lips. She licked them reflexively and saw his eyes darken again. Her hand shook as she lowered the now empty glass. The way he looked at her was most disconcerting. She felt absolutely naked. Worse, she couldn’t help wondering what he might look like without his clothes.
A bubble of hysterical laughter lodged in her throat. She ought to be thinking about cool, detached Lord Fairford. Golden, angelic Fairford. Not mentally undressing this black-haired devil! Lord Montgomery looked anything but angelic—unless one considered the fallen sort.
As if he could read her thoughts, Montgomery’s mouth slanted. Her stomach again tightened. It was an almost uncomfortable response.
Almost. The same traitorous little voice inside her whispered that perhaps Montgomery might make a better husband than Fairford. The more she looked at him, the more pleasing the idea became. Thick, dark curls instead of fine, fair hair. Eyes of midnight rather than ice—dark eyes full of promises.
She watched, mesmerized, as something flared to life in those eyes, something infinitely, temptingly dangerous. The ache in her belly suddenly blossomed, sending another rush of heat to the place below. Panicking, she looked away and snapped open her fan, struggling to exude cool dignity as opposed to trembling idiocy.
How could she possibly think of her old bête noire with…desire?
She shifted to put a bit more distance between them. It was the height of irony that the boy who’d called her a pest now seemed to have the ability to set her ablaze.
“I must confess, I was rather surprised to hear a woman speak of politics so knowledgeably,” he said, moving a little closer.
“I make it a point to keep well informed,” she replied, annoyed by his patronizing tone—and by how close he was. “Papa always read the papers. Now, I read them. Every morning. Mama thinks it a waste of time for me to fill my head with such things, but I enjoy learning about the larger world.”
“The pursuit of knowledge is never a waste of time,” he agreed. “Ignorance by choice is a grave sin, but action taken in deliberate ignorance is an even greater offense.”
A grudging smile formed on her lips. “That sounds like something Papa might have said.” Sadness threatened to again overwhelm her. In spite of his many faults, he had been a wonderful father.
“Sabrina!”