Page 85

Adam tilted his head toward the gorgeous woman. “That’s the new owner of the Hades’ Hell.”

“Oh!” Beatrice stifled her chuckle, remembering her foolish tirade about how she wanted to meet the owner of the hell and get swept away into a romance with him, not knowing that it was a woman. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t have hated to dance with her. I’d be entirely too intimidated, though.”

Adam chuckled. “Intimidated? That I highly doubt.” He patted her hand that rested on his arm. “Let’s move toward the main hall. The auction starts soon.”

* * *

Magnificent.

If Adam had to describe Beatrice that evening with one word, that word would have been “magnificent.” To be truthful, he didn’t think he could have described her with any other word.

Her golden-brown hair, stylishly collected atop her head, boasted a couple of playful curls that framed her lovely face. Her mesmerizing chocolate brown eyes shimmered in the candlelight even through her spectacles, hinting at mischief. Her full, rosy lips beckoned to be kissed.

She was poised and graceful, her delicate hand on his forearm, her sweet and enchanting scent surrounding him and calming his nerves. Yet, no words at his disposal could do justice to a description of her, as no description could fully capture her essence.

Adam considered himself an eloquent man. He didn’t speak too much, but when he did, he knew how to express his thoughts in a diplomatic—if concise—manner. However, in Beatrice’s presence, his speech seemed to falter.

Perhaps she was right. He should have read a romantic novel or two, at the very least, to be able to bestow compliments and impassioned speeches upon her. If he was more flowery in his speech, perhaps she wouldn’t have refused his proposal.

Adam winced, forcing the memory away.

He had botched the proposal completely. Convinced that she would acquiesce to marrying anyone in order to escape Lansdowne, he hadn’t bothered to think it through. Who would have known that she wanted a real marriage?

He should have known…

Had he paid attention for even a moment, he would have realized that she was a complete romantic. She dreamed of falling in love and loving in return.

That’s what he’d dreamed of too, hadn’t he? He had always wanted a love match. But that was before his new dream landed at his feet.

“Can you believe we found your watch?” Beatrice looked up at him, her fingers tightening on his arm to get his attention. Excitement practically radiated from her.

Adam was thankful that the awkwardness between them had dissipated easily. At the very least, his thoughtless proposal hadn’t managed to ruin their friendship. He smiled down at her, all his will concentrated on not leaning down and kissing her upturned face. “Honestly, I can’t. I’ve already made peace with losing it forever.”

Her smile turned smug, and she teased. “Good thing I didn’t let you give up.”

Adam chuckled. “You’re nothing if not persistent.”

The night had only just begun, and little did they know that finding the watch was merely the first surprise awaiting them.

As they weaved their way toward the main hall, Adam noticed a figure moving past them and stopped as he recognized his friend.

“Lucien!” He clapped his friend on the shoulder.

“There you are!” his friend replied. “I was afraid you’d changed your mind.” He turned toward Beatrice and raised his brow. “A pleasure, miss. When I told Adam to have a stunning woman on his arm, I never imagined he would bring such a beauty.”

Adam’s hand tightened on Beatrice, and he took a step forward. “She’s not for you.”

Lucien looked up, stunned, a glimmer of humor in his green eyes. “Well, well, how interesting.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Beatrice said. “I am B—”

“No, no, don’t introduce yourself. The less I know the better.” With deliberate grace, Lucien took her hand, his lips pressing against her knuckles in a lingering kiss.

Adam quickly snatched Beatrice’s hand back, and his friend just chuckled, while Beatrice looked from one man to another, her eyes wide.

“And where is the stunning woman on your arm?” Adam asked irritably. “I thought you said not to show up alone.”

“Oh, I am not alone.” Lucien looked around before tilting his head toward a man with wavy black hair down to his shoulders. He was animatedly discussing something with other patrons, waving his glass of whisky furiously about him.