Her eyes snapped open, and she searched his expression for several moments before a tentative smile touched her mouth. “Is that admiration I hear from a man reputed to be cynical and cutting?”
“You’ve heard of me, hmm?”
“Some,” she said pertly, her gaze thoughtfully narrowed. “Enough to know I should not be alone with you, no matter the circumstances, my lord. Nor should I own to any sort of mutually assured discretion with you.”
“Ah, you’ve heard dubious things about me.”
“Debutantes are indeed warned about certain gentlemen to avoid, even if they are handsome and far too charming.”
“Was that a generalization, or do you believe me to be wonderfully handsome and charming.”
“I said nothing about wonderfully handsome,” she gasped.
“The warmth in your tone implied it.”
She truly made a choking sound of outrage. “You outrageous flirt!”
“I only ravish those who are willing,” he murmured, sliding his gaze over her. “Nor do I tangle with those who are young and innocent.”
Her lips parted on a gasp, then she charmed him by laughing, the sound low and husky. Still, the lady cautiously backed up, keeping a respectable distance between them.
Good girl.
William stood and faced her. She hovered for a few seconds before she glanced behind her toward the ballroom. Teeth sank into a plump bottom lip, and for a moment, she seemed uncertain. “I should return inside, my lord.”
“You should.”
“Thank you for…” Her regard shifted to the viscount on the ground before she looked back at him. “Thank you, my lord.”
“A moment before you leave.”
He walked toward the stone bench where the footman had discreetly left a bowl of shaved ice. William reached for his handkerchief and put half the content in it, creating a wrap. “I am certain your hand is hurting. This will ease the swelling and the pain.”
Her breath audibly hitched, and something hot and uncomfortable stirred inside him when the most beguiling scent wafted closer.
“Remove your gloves.”
She sniffed and glared at him.
“I am a man used to giving orders and expecting them to be followed,” he said with a small smile, understanding her ire at his high-handedness. William would make no apology for his blunt nature. “Go ahead and take off the gloves. Or do you wish for me to do it?”
“I am capable, my lord.” She made a soft, pained sound as she gently took off the glove from her right hand. Three of her fingers were indeed red and swollen. Still, they were in a better state than he expected. Gently he reached for her hand, halting shy of touching her. She held out her hand, and he noted those long, elegantly tapered fingers slightly trembled. A fraught silence settled around them, but William made no effort to insert conversation in the odd tension. He gently held her wrist, the feel of her pulse echoing through him. He placed the handkerchief on her fingers, letting the cold seep onto the inflamed skin, soothing the pain.
She sighed. The sound traveled to empty spaces he’d not known were inside him and filled it with an odd feeling of want. William narrowed his eyes and considered her bent head, inexplicably annoyed by his uncensored reaction to her nearness. They stayed like that for several minutes, the din of the music and laughter in the background seeming too far away. Neither spoke when he put more ice in the handkerchief and poured some of the icy water directly onto her hand.
“Does it hurt less?”
The pulse beneath his finger tripped to a faster beat.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Her fingers pinkened, and with a sense of amazement, William realized that she was blushing…and with her entire body. Hell, it seemed she was just as aware of their closeness and the scandalous impropriety of their actions. “Where did you learn to fight?”
“Why do you ask, my lord?”
He assessed the need that had pushed the question from him and answered truthfully, “Curiosity.”
She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “A dear friend facilitated my learning.”