Grey scowled. “Georgiana’s tired. You don’t mind if—”
“Yes, I do mind.” He kept his gaze on Georgiana, though he sensed the duke looming beside him. If Grey wanted a fight, he was definitely in the mood to accommodate him. “Georgiana?”
“It’s all right, Grey. I promised him.”
“That doesn’t matter, if you don’t want—”
“I appreciate your chivalry, cousin,” she interrupted, her voice sharper, “but please allow me to speak for myself.”
With a curt nod, Greydon took his wife’s hand to lead her to the dance floor. “As if I could stop you,” he muttered.
Tristan ignored their departure; all of his attention was on Georgiana. “Shall we?”
Georgiana took his hand. Keenly reminded of their half-naked waltz in his bedchamber, Tristan slid his arm around her waist and stepped into the dance.
She did everything she could to avoid his gaze, looking at his cravat, the other dancers, the orchestra, and the decorations along the far wall. He kept his silence, trying to decide how best to broach his questions without losing any more ground, and angry enough to be satisfied at her discomfiture.
Finally, she gave a heavy sigh and looked up at him. She seemed tired, fine lines around her eyes dimming their sparkle. “This was supposed to make you leave me alone.”
“You encouraged me, and then you insulted me. What made you think I wouldn’t want an explanation?”
“You told my aunt you’d understood the message. I don’t think you did. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be dancing with me.”
“Explain it to me, then.” He lowered his head, brushing his cheek against her ear. The lavender scent of her made him swallow. Angry or not, he wanted her again. Badly. “I felt passion, Georgiana. And so did you. So please, explain to me why you left the way you did.”
A slow blush crept up her cheeks. “Fine. You were supposed to be courting Amelia Johns; you said so yourself. And yet you couldn’t wait to seduce me. I wanted you to know how it felt to expect something from someone and then have them snatch it away. To teach you that you can’t go about breaking hearts just because it suits you to do so.”
“You did as much seducing as I did, my dear.”
“Yes, to teach you a lesson.” She paused, glancing at the nearest dancers, too far away to hear their quiet conversation. “It just so happened that this lesson had the added bonus of making us even.”
“Even,” he repeated, anger and desire creeping intermingled along his veins.
“Yes—you hurt me, and I hurt you. The lesson is over. Go back to Amelia and behave like a gentleman, if you can.”
For a long moment he looked down at her. They were even now, except for one thing. “You’re right.”
“So go get married and be a good husband.”
“I meant that you’re right about us being even—with one small difference.”
She eyed him warily. “What difference?”
“You ran last time, and I let you go. I have no intention of doing so, this time.”
“What…what are you talking about? What about Amelia? She expects a proposal.”
“If we’re even,” he returned, ignoring her interruption, “then there’s no reason we can’t begin again. A clean slate between us, as it were.”
Her jaw fell open. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am perfectly serious. You interest me much more than Amelia Johns ever could. To be blunt, and because you’ll throw it in my face anyway, you also happen to be an heiress, and everyone knows that I need to marry an heiress.”
“I don’t believe you,” she snapped, jerking her hand free from his. “You can’t stand losing, so you’re embarking on another game you think you can win, and at my expense. I will not participate.”
“It’s no game, Georgiana,” he growled, grabbing her hand again.
She pulled backward, freeing herself from his grip and nearly causing the Earl of Montrose and his partner to fall over both of them. “Then prove it, Dare.”
