“A music box?” His whisper brushed her ear.
“Yes.” She stilled as Ian reached around her to pick up one of the brass scrolls from their stand next to the box.
“Is this one a waltz?” he asked softly, his breath tickling the back of her neck, arousing her even more.
Hero released a shaky breath and took the scroll from him. She replaced it on the stand before reaching for another. “No, but this one is.”
“Play it for me?” He settled his warm hands on her shoulders.
She inserted the scroll and wound the box before turning to him as Strauss’s waltzSnowdropsorSchneeglöckchensoftly filled the room. She hadn’t realized that it was so dark in the music room, with only one oil lamp left by the servants to light the room. Ian was cast in shadows, making it impossible to read his expression, but his deep brogue was thick. “I owe you a waltz in the moonlight, I believe.”
“It’s raining, you said.”
“Does it matter?”
Her head was already shaking before Hero had a chance to respond. “No.”
Ian took her hand and led her with a twirl to the center of the small room. Settling his other hand at her waist, he began to move her in a languid waltz. Hero followed his lead, her hand lightly on his shoulder, the other on his forearm as he bent over her. “How is it that Shakespeare’s Claudio referred to his Hero?” he whispered in his seductive brogue as he moved against her. “Sweet? Lovely?”
“Fair, I think.”
“Merely fair?” He clucked his tongue. “That would not do for you at all, I think.”
“Am I not fair?” Her hand drifted up his shoulder until she was able to run her forefinger along the edge of his collar. His eyes locked with hers and his nostrils flared at the subtle contact.
His hand slipped up her waist until he brushed the underside of her breast with his thumb and Hero’s breath caught. “You, Hero, are far more than fair.”
“Very sweet words.” She lifted a finger to brush against his earlobe. “Very quixotic.”
He frowned. “Yet you seem oddly disappointed by them.”
“Not disappointed.”Merely impatient.
“Do women not desire sweet nothings and romance any longer?”
“I desireyou.” Hero bit her lip. She couldn’t imagine where those words had come from unless they rose from deep within her. Not that they weren’t true. They were. They were also boldly forward. “My apologies. I didn’t mean…”
Stopping in midstride, Ian’s hand tightened on her ribcage. “Are ye saying ye dinnae desire me, lass?”
“No-o.” Taken aback by incredulity that wiped away his usually cultured tones and released a thick brogue, she shook her head. “I mean, I do. It’s just so…What are you waiting for, Ian?”
She hadn’t meant to voice her frustration quite so boldly. Heat crept up her neck and her cheeks.
“I’ll be needing ye to clarify that question.” The gruff command sent her already fluttering nerves soaring. She tried to step out of his arms but he held her tight.
“Oh, dear.” Hero glanced down, to the side. Anywhere but at Ian. She hadn’t meant to say anything and this was the reason why. She had no proficiency in seduction. No practice luring men to her bed. What more could she add? “Y-you’ve been most charming this week.”
His heavy brows rose. “Charming?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “A-and I’ve…I’ve…enjoyedour evenings together very much. I simply wonder if perhaps I’ve misinterpreted your intentions.”
“Myintentions?” His brogue became nearly incomprehensible. “Are ye no’ aware of my intentions, lass?”
“Well, I thought after what Papa said the other night that you felt as I did,” she stammered nervously. “That notion of living for the moment. Embracing opportunity.”
“Carpe diem?” He scowled. “’Tis no’ a day I want to seize, lass. I thought ye understood that.”
No, she didn’t understand that at all. She didn’t understand anything of what he was saying. Surely, he desired her? Even if she’d mistaken the intensity of their mutual attraction, even if his affections did not run as deeply as hers, Ian had still given every indication of wanting her person. “Of course, I did. You were seducing me. But you needn’t—”
