Page 5

Relief came with a laugh, loosening the knot in his chest. “I might arrange another opportunity.”

“Do not spoil your success by demanding too much.”

She withdrew her hand, and he let her, though he was conscious of the loss. Guests moved around them toward the next set. Somewhere nearby, a gentleman laughed too loudly, and Amelia glanced in his direction before looking toward the quieter end of the gallery.

“Would you like something to drink?” Dominic asked.

“Water. I have become rather warm.” She touched two fingers lightly to her throat, where a faint sheen had gathered, and his gaze followed before he could stop it.

So had he, though he suspected their reasons differed. He found a footman, requested it, then led her to a shallow alcove near the windows. Two chairs stood beside a small table, with enough space between them to discourage any suggestion of intimacy. Dominic waited until she sat, her gown settling around her in a whisper of silk, before taking the other.

The night pressed cool against the glass behind them, and he was grateful for it. She opened her fan and moved it slowly, stirring a loose curl against her cheek. His gaze followed the movement before he could prevent it. The curl lifted, settled, lifted again, and he found himself wanting, quite badly, to tuck it behind her ear.

“You are staring again,” she observed.

“I am attempting to decide whether honesty would improve matters.” He wanted her, and he didn’t know if he should be too bold.

“Try it. You may surprise us both.”

The footman arrived with her water, giving Dominic a moment to reconsider. He waited until the servant withdrew, then drew a breath and let the truth out plainly. “I find you very beautiful.”

Amelia’s fan slowed. For the first time since she had addressed him, she seemed uncertain what to do with his answer. Her lashes lowered. Color rose gently above the edge of her bodice, spreading into a soft, lovely flush, and he wished he could see her whole face without the mask between them. Then she lifted her glass, and the moment closed like a door.

“That is an observation, my lord. I was hoping for something far more enticing.”

He laughed, delighted, though a small, unfamiliar disappointment pricked him beneath it. “You make it very difficult to compliment you.”

She shrugged. “Only when you expect the compliment to accomplish something.”

He considered that while she drank, watching the slim column of her throat move. He had expected it to please her. Perhaps he had also expected it to soften her enough that she would cease reminding him of his foolish remarks. The realization was not flattering. It sat uncomfortably in his chest.

“Then I shall endeavor to make the next one more agreeable.”

She lowered her glass and studied him, tilting her head. “You need not look so serious. I have not forbidden you to admire me.”

He chuckled. “Well, that is a considerable relief.”

She smiled. “I have merely request that you’re far more clever with your seduction.”

“My seduction?” She was enchanting, and he had to have her. This woman played the game well.

She set the glass on the table and glanced toward the dancers, candlelight tracing her profile. He took the chance to study the delicate line of her jaw and the small, firm curve of her mouth. A startling, tender ache of longing moved through him. She knew what she wanted. He had said he admired that in a woman, and he did. Yet he hadn't understood how thoroughly he might enjoy being told his wishes weren't the only ones that mattered.

Amelia turned back toward him. “What were you hoping to find here tonight?”

The question was so plain that he nearly answered it in kind. The true answer rose in his throat, strange and unplanned. Something he hadn't expected.

“Pleasant company,” he told her.

Her brows lifted behind the mask. “Not very original, my lord. You have already said that once.”

“It remains true,” he insisted.

She arched a brow. “Does pleasant company generally require a bedchamber?”

Dominic’s breath caught. Heat flooded him, swift and shameless. She watched him over the edge of her fan, entirely composed now, her eyes dancing, and he suspected she was enjoying herself enormously. He also suspected she had noticed precisely where his gaze had gone.

“Not always,” he said, and was proud that his voice held.