It occurred to her that, although he did not wear a costume, anyone watching them would assume they were a pair. She was Persephone to his black-clothed Hades.
She looked at the other couples. The men all held the ladies they danced with close, some openly caressing their partners on the dance floor. No wonder the aunts were scandalized when Monty insisted she learn to waltz. And why many in England thought it immoral.
They started to dance, their bodies fitting together perfectly, their steps in tune. As they moved, the subtle aroma of his citrus cologne enveloped her, a refreshing counter to the cloying scent of hothouse flowers and women’s perfume. His hand resting on her back began to make small circles. Each caress of his fingers caused more sparks to flare and dance.
The waltz was definitely, deliciously immoral.
As Hades whirled her around the room, she repressed all thoughts of propriety and gave herself up to her feelings and the intoxication of dancing within a circle of strong arms. His arms. At last.
So deep was her trance she lost all sense of time and the number of dances. They did not talk—just danced until the music stopped.
Taking deep breaths, she fanned herself in an effort to cool down. Although the windows were open, the chill winter air did little to dispel the heat generated by the press of people in the ballroom. Though it wasn’t just the heat in the room causing her to feel warm. The heat came from within, from those sparks, dancing and sizzling under her skin.
Ria became aware that Hades was watching her bust rise and fall with each breath she took. As she bit her lip, his intent gaze shifted to her mouth.
Abruptly he asked, “Have we met before?”
This was dangerous territory. Prevaricating, she replied, “Do you think perhaps in hell, my lord Hades?”
“Do you mean in a hell?”
“No,” she replied.
So he frequented gambling hells, did he? She quashed her feeling of disappointment. He was an adult male, a member of the ton. Of course he did. But what else did he do? What had shaped him into the man who stood before her? She’d never know. She rubbed her chest, trying to alleviate the stabbing pain in her breast.
His gaze followed the path of her hand as he took a step closer. “I’m sure I’d recall if we’d danced together before, but just to be sure, have we?”
“No.”
At his look of frustration, she couldn’t help but smile.
He looked into her eyes as he said, “You don’t believe in making conversation, do you?”
Ria shook her head.
He gave a quick laugh that turned into a broad smile. With a shock she realized it was the first natural, honest smile he’d given her. She gathered her distracted wits about her as he asked another question.
“Have I met you in the company of others?”
He was so close now she could once again feel the heat from his body. “Yes.”
“Is this a game?”
She smiled sweetly. “Yes.”
“Have we played with one another before?” Light danced within the dark green of his eyes.
“Yes.”
At her positive response, his smile disappeared and his gaze sharpened. “Surely we haven’t made love. I’d remember.”
She paused before answering. “Is that a question?”
He swiftly nodded.
“No.”
He frowned. “So we’ve played with one another but not made love.”