A shiver kissed her skin. A familiar reaction she enjoyed after making sweet love to him many years ago. She had trembled then too, and longing wrecked within her at lost opportunities.
"I apologize for missing our dance," she stated matter-of-fact, coming to stand beside him. "You can take me for a turn about the dancefloor now if it pleases you."
He huffed out a breath, a muscle in his jaw working. "I'm not particularly certain that I should swing you about the floor at all with that bosom, Miss Howard. I'm afraid it will fall out. Mayhap it is better that we stay where we are."
She felt her mouth gape at his use of bosom before laughter bubbled up within her, and she could not hold it back. "You do amuse me, my lord. And I can assure you that I'm well-restrained, and no dressing disaster will take place should we dance."
He cast his eyes over her, a rakish, hungry look entering his eyes that made her want things that she should not. "I think it's best that I do not touch you, Sutton."
His whispered words sent a thrill through her blood. One she should not be feeling or hoping for whenever she was around him. What they once shared was over. Finished. Long put to bed, but still, no matter how many times her mind screamed the truth of her thoughts, her heart, damn the little beating organ, refused to listen.
"Well," she said, determined to tease him. "Lord Ridley has been more than complimentary this evening. Do you like my gown? TheWallflower’s Guidethat I was telling you about suggested clothing ought to be used to one's advantage, along with a woman's figure. I incorporated them both, and I will confess, I like the result very much."
He growled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "There are few gentlemen here this evening who would disagree with your notion, but I prefer you to dress as you always have. You do not need to out yourself so very much to gain a husband."
Sutton fought the urge to check that she was decent still. The way Logan was speaking, anyone would have thought she had bared her chest to all attending the ball. "No one has asked me yet, so until they do, I shall use what lures I have available to me to enable that to occur. My use of you is no exception." She thanked a passing footman who handed her a glass of wine. "Do you not like it?" she had to ask, needing to hear his thoughts.
He closed his eyes a moment, a pained expression flitting across his features. "You ought to return to your party, Sutton. Your night is a success, and you should take the opportunity to flirt and flutter your lashes as much as you can, along with your breasts."
She turned, watching him keenly. "You're angry with me," she stated, knowing that was true. She had always been able to tell when he was displeased. His lips thinned, and he shook his head, dismissing her statement.
"I am here to help, am I not?" he asked her, meeting her gaze.
Sutton swallowed, unsure why he looked so severe and wild all of a sudden. "Yes, as agreed," she answered him.
He stepped so close to her that she could smell the musky scent of him, mixed with a sweet citrus fragrance that was utterly delicious.
"Your gown makes me want to rip it from your body to see what other delicacies I have missed these past six years. You needed me to tell you when a ploy in yourWallflower’s Guideworked. Well, I'm telling you your ploy this evening does. Now," he stated, bowing. "Go make use of it." He pushed past her, striding toward the terrace doors, and she frowned after him.
Wherever was he going? And did his words mean what she thought they did? They must, for he too seemed as pleased and appreciative of her gown amendments as every other gentleman here this evening.
Not that she was the only woman who accentuated her form, there were many here this evening. It was simply she had never played this particular game before.
About to start back toward her group, she caught sight of her party, the gentlemen there, and none of them left her as breathless, with as much longing for conversation and wit, as she experienced with Logan.
This was a most unfortunate turn of events, for they were not in London this Season to court each other. Far from it.
Even so, Sutton found her silk-slippered feet walked her out of the ballroom and onto the terrace in search of him, only to find it empty.
She turned in a circle, looking out over the grounds and not seeing or hearing a soul. She debated going into the gardens for a moment and thought better of it since they were so dark and there was little moonlight.
With no sight of Logan still, she turned back for the ballroom, determined to enjoy her evening and Lord Ridley, who would at least dance with her, even if at the end of each dance, only one gentleman occupied her mind, and it was not the one in her arms.
* * *
Logan snuckabout the house and reentered the ball from the front doors, the short but brisk walk to gain his composure much needed after his conversation with Sutton. The woman had left his cock hard and aching, his mind demanding things his heart refused to acknowledge. Neither issue was something he needed anyone of thetonto notice. He had fled outside, determined to depart, but he could not leave her.
No, that was not entirely true. He could leave, but he did not want to leave her alone.
Foolish ass.
He kept to the edges of the gathered throng, out of Sutton's view and anyone who may have noticed their conversation and his fleeing like the devil himself was after him. He caught sight of her dancing the cotillion with Lord Ridley. The pompous ass could barely keep his eyes above her chin. Even from here, he could see his lordship was ogling her like a piece of flesh to devour and nothing else.
Did he not care for her at all? Did he not like her just as well before she pushed up her bosom so that it almost smacked into her chin each time she stepped?
No man ought to be in the running for her hand if he did not love her for who she was. A marriage union could not come about on desire only. Emotion and love, dare he say it, needed to factor, or the marriage would be doomed to failure.
He did not want that for her.