“The ball is scarcely underway,” she told Alexandra, frowning. “You cannot mean to flee already?”
“My calculations are awaiting me,” Alexandra said. “I am on the cusp of some very important findings concerning rainbands, and my book will not write itself.”
Her sister was beloved to Jo, but she would never entirely understand Alexandra’s love of the weather. “This is Callie’s first ball, and I promised her I would remain until the very end, Alexandra.”
Alexandra’s nose crinkled in distaste. “I was hoping I could disabuse you of your notion of loyalty, admirable though it is. Good heavens, Jo, neither of us have ever found this sort of spectacle entertaining.”
No, Jo had not.
At least, not until a devilishly handsome rake had swept her into a waltz and arranged an assignation. Not that she wanted to meet Mr. Decker, she reminded herself. He was untrustworthy, and entirely too aware of his own masculine beauty. Callie admitted his reputation was dreadful and had warned her to keep her distance on numerous occasions. He was the sort of gentleman one could admire from afar, rather like a lion in a menagerie. She would never dare step inside his cage, trust herself to be alone with him.
At his mercy.
No.
And yet, some part of her remained curious. Some part of her wanted to accept that invitation to the blue salon. To allow him to prove he could kiss her breathless. He was handsome. Tempting.
He was everything she should avoid.
And he was everything she wanted. Jo could admit the horrible truth to herself, if no one else. Mr. Decker intrigued her as no other man ever had.
“Jo?” her sister prodded. “Are you sotted?”
That would be the only proper excuse for the emotions coursing through her. But, alas, Jo had only partaken of the lemonade. “Of course not. I have scarcely had a drop to drink this evening.”
Or a bite to eat. Mayhap that was the need, deep within. Hunger, of the ordinary variety and not the carnal.
Mayhap the odd sense of fluttery butterfly wings in her belly had nothing whatsoever to do with Mr. Decker’s invitation to sin.
Oh, who was she trying to fool? It hadeverythingto do with him. He had planted them there, with his hands upon her and the delicious way he had guided her through the waltz earlier. She had been giddy, in awe of him, longing for…
More.
Whatever that entailed. She was certain a man like Mr. Elijah Decker would have no problem with introducing her to it, whateveritwas, whateveritmeant.
“You seem distracted,” Alexandra observed, her eyes narrowing as she searched Jo’s face.
“I was looking for Callie,” she lied. “Have you seen her? This crush is so magnificent, I only had the chance to speak with her once.”
“Are you certain I cannot persuade you to see reason, dearest sister?” Alexandra asked, hope tingeing her voice.
“I am not ready to go yet.”
How long had it been since he had told her to meet him in the blue salon? Had it been half an hour ago? What if he was waiting for her there, now?
Did she care?
No.
Yes, whispered a wicked voice inside her.
Jo banished the voice. Banished, too, the urge to do his bidding. What would it garner her, after all, save a ruined reputation? Or worse, a broken heart?
“You two look as if you are plotting something diabolical,” said her brother-in-law, Lord Harry, as he reached their sides.
“I am not plotting anything,” Jo denied. “Your wife is the diabolical sister, of the two of us. Surely you ought to know that by now.”
Lord Harry grinned and winked. “I live in fear.”
