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Licking his dry lips, he scanned her from head to toe. “I feel a compliment is in order. It seems you have the ability to make elegance appear utterly sinful.”

She brushed her hands down the front of the velvet gown hugging her body so tight he felt a hint of envy. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve not spent a penny on my new wardrobe. The dress was kindly donated, and Anne was able to make a few adjustments.”

Various emotions fought for supremacy while he considered her delectable form: jealousy, lust, rage. It was a new experience.

“Had you sold the silver to pay for it, I would not have objected.”

Despite her beauty, it was the blush rising to her cheeks that made his cock throb.

“So you’re not angry that I’ve come to join the party?”

They’d agreed never to lie. “I’m bloody furious. Indeed, I cannot recall the last time I was so damnably annoyed.”

“Is that because I’ve gone against your wishes,” she said boldly, “or are you ashamed of the woman you married?”

“I’m not ashamed of you, Priscilla. That is far from the truth.” Indeed, he admired her tenacity. “But you should know I’ll not be responsible for my actions should anything untoward happen. The men here are actively looking for their next conquest. They see a married woman as an easy target. And there are some who would relish the chance to declare me a cuckold.”

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Then you had better make it clear to whom I belong.” She peered over his shoulder as the first few strains of a waltz drew couples to the floor. “I assume it is acceptable for the host to dance with his wife.”

A man who sought to remain detached from all emotions would refuse, make an excuse. While the waltz provided an opportunity to be close to one’s partner, in his house, there were no limitations. To press his body against his wife’s voluptuous form would be sheer folly.

Sensing his disquiet she smiled, moved past him and descended the stairs.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“I want to dance. As to my choice of partner, well, that decision lies in your hands.”

“Priscilla, wait,” he whispered through clenched teeth, but the obstinate woman ignored him.

Bloody hell!

So much for her vow to obey.

Though camouflaged amongst the crowd, he knew the ravenous beasts were circling. With no choice but to follow, he caught up with her in a few strides.

As his hand settled on her waist, she swung around to face him. “One dance, Priscilla, and then you must promise to return to your room.”

“Two dances, both of them with you, and then I shall leave you to enjoy your night in peace.”

Two dances! A saint would struggle to rein in his urges.

“Is that a promise?”

Sapphire-blue eyes sparkled as they searched his face. “It is.”

Breathing deeply to dampen his ardour, he held out his hand. She hesitated for a second, no more, and her fingers trembled as she laid her palm on top of his.

Compelled by a sudden urge to claim and conquer, he curled his fingers around her hand and held it tight. He’d sworn to give his protection, and by God he meant it.

“I must warn you,” she began as he drew her into the middle of the floor to join the other guests swirling about in perpetual circles. “I lack co-ordination when it comes to moving quickly. No doubt you are just as skilled at dancing as you are most things.”

Matthew narrowed his gaze. “Is that an honest assessment of my character?”

“What I know of it, yes.”

“Considering the fact I’m in debt to a card-sharp I must assume you refer to my ability to rouse a pleasurable response from your lips.” He did not want to embarrass her with a more concise description.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m surprised how quickly my body reacts to your touch. But I wonder, is it like that with everyone?”


Tags: Adele Clee Anything for Love Romance