"I've had some, thank you."
"Shall I return you to your aunt for further instruction?"
"No. Nor should you continue to tease me. It makes me feel flustered."
"I see." He swept her around the far corner of the ballroom. "You aren't thirsty, you don't wish to join your aunt, and you won't allow me to tease you. Then, as we have no reading material to divert you, the only other remedy I can suggest is a few minutes respite in less frenzied surroundings. Would you care to stroll through Almack's with me?"
"Yes," Sammy answered without hesitating.
"I'll just tell your aunt—"
"No." Glancing over, Sammy saw that her aunt was talking with the elderly Dowager Duchess of Arvel. "Aunt Gertie won't object. In fact, she'll probably never notice."
Chuckling, Rem led her into the hall. After a quick perusal of the nearby chambers, he guided her into a small, dimly lit anteroom. "How's this?"
"Perfect." Sammy could scarcely see, especially after Rem shut the door behind him. Still, she'd managed to determine the most important thing—they were alone. She turned to face him.
"Are you enjoying your first ball, Lady Samantha?" Rem's voice was deep and husky as it echoed through the empty room.
Sammy's heart slammed against her ribs. "Very much."
"I'm glad." He wrapped a tendril of her hair around his finger. "And is the uncrowded room helping to cool you?"
"No." She stepped closer, wishing she knew what to do next, unaware that she was already doing it. "I don't think a change of scene is what I require."
Something smoky and intangible flashed in his eyes. "Really?" His fingers left her hair, trailed across her cheek and down the side of her neck. "What is it you require then?"
She trembled. "I. . ."
"Is it this, Samantha?" He framed her face between his hands. "Is this what you want?"
Her eyes slid shut as she unconsciously leaned into him, awaiting his kiss. Will it be all I imagined? she wondered in the dizzying second before their lips touched.
The reality exceeded the dream.
Rem's mouth brushed hers softly, gently, circling slowly around to repeat the caress. Butterfly light and infinitely controlled, he continued the motion, a chaste prelude to sensation, a maiden's first kiss.
For Samantha, it was not nearly enough.
Reflexively, her hands clutched his coat, urging him nearer as she rose on tiptoe to reach his mouth. She felt him start, then draw back, catching her hands in his.
"Don't, imp," he cautioned, an uneven whisper against her lips.
"I want to," she breathed back, unable to think beyond the wondrous new awakening. He hesitated, and Sammy could actually feel his indecision.
"I do want to," she repeated softly, freeing her hands to glide up the front of his shirt. "Please."
Rem's muscles tightened, with surprise or pleasure, she wasn't certain. Then he lowered his head, catching her arms to bring her closer, taking her mouth wholly under his.
Sammy dug her fingers into his shirt as he worked his magic, kissing her in a way that made her knees buckle. "Better?" he murmured.
"Yes, better ... but not enough."
Again she felt him start. "What am I going to do with you, imp?" He lifted a handful of her hair, sifted it slowly through his fingers. "Your honesty constantly astounds me. But tell me, my trusting Samantha, whose undoing will it be, yours ... or mine?"
"There is more, isn't there? There must be."
"Must there?" He nibbled at her lower lip. "Don't you think you've had enough of a lesson for one night?"