“How could you forget?” He was already drawing her away from Thornbury, whose expression had shifted from confusion to understanding to carefully blank politeness. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Aaron didn’t wait for a response, pulling Louise onto the dance floor as the opening notes filled the air. His hand found her waist, perhaps gripping tighter than strictly proper, while hers rested on his shoulder with obvious tension.
“What are you doing?” she hissed as they began to move.
“Dancing. I believe that’s traditional at balls.”
“That was incredibly rude. I never promised you anything.”
“Didn’t you?” He spun her, using the movement to pull her closer. “I distinctly remember promises.”
“People are staring.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and he could hear the whispers spreading like wildfire around them.
“Did you see that?”
“Practically snatched her away …”
“The duke never dances …”
“Living in his house …”
“What will people think?”
The warmth of her waist beneath his palm sent heat racing through his veins. She fit against him perfectly, as if she’d beendesigned for this moment, for his arms. Her scent clouded his senses, a lavender dream he never wished to wake up from.
“Let them stare,” Aaron said, his voice rougher than he intended.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulder, and he felt the tremor run through her. “Easy for you to say. Your reputation isn’t hanging by a thread.”
“While you’re under my roof, no man touches you without my permission.” He guided her through a turn, using the movement to eliminate another inch of space between them.
Her breath caught as his thumb brushed the edge of her ribs through the silk. Then, Louise’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. “But you did.”
The words hit him like cold water. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. “That was a mistake.”
“I agree that it was.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “And because of that, you do not get to intervene whenever a gentleman expresses interest in me, as you did just now.”
“Louise—”
“No.” Her voice remained low, but fury radiated from every word. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to kiss me as if I matter, pronounce it a mistake, then act jealous when another man shows interest.”
“You don’t understand?—”
She lifted her gaze to meet his, and the impact nearly stopped him mid-step. Her green eyes held heat and confusion.
“I understand perfectly. You want me when it’s convenient, when no one’s watching, when you can pretend it means nothing. But heaven forbid someone else might want me too.”
“That’s not—” He pulled her closer, propriety be damned. “You think this is convenient? You think watching you smile at other men, dance with them, and potentially marry them is convenient?”
“Then what is it?”
The question hung between them as they moved through the steps of the waltz. Aaron could feel every eye in the ballroom on them, could hear his father’s voice warning about public displays, about maintaining control, about the danger of wanting too much.
“It’storture,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper only she could hear. “Every moment you’re near me is torture. Because I can’t have you. Every moment you’re away is worse, because I can’t see you.”
Louise’s lips parted in surprise, her steps faltering slightly.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” he continued, the words pouring out despite every instinct screaming at him to stop. “About how you felt in my arms. How you tasted. How you sounded when you?—”
