His body responded enthusiastically, and damn it all, he was going to have to linger in the darkness before he could walk out into the light.
“I’m not sure—” he began, but halted his refusal as soon as a shadowed figure walked toward their cozy balcony.
“Lady Liliah?” Meyer’s voice called warily.
“Do you need something from the lady?” Lucas ambled toward the gentleman, purposely leaving off the courtesy title.
“Meyer—”
Lucas lifted a hand to silence Liliah, and studied the man before him. “I don’t think she will be needing your escort. Notthisnight.” He arched a brow in a challenging manner, knowing Meyer would allow him to escort her back to the ballroom, away from the shadows that whispered secrets of ruin; especially since Meyer would surely follow close behind.
Then turned to face his ill-thought-out fate.
Lady Liliah met his gaze. Apprehension shifted to acceptance, then illuminated into victory.
And in that moment, as Lucas took her arm and led her out into the light of the ballroom, he was certain of two things.
He was a bloody idiot.
And Liliah Durary was about to be thoroughly ruined—in more ways than one.
Chapter Thirteen
Liliah forced a calm she didn’t feel as she walked into the bright ballroom on the arm of one of the most notorious rakes in all of London.
Her father would be furious.
Her reputation would be questioned.
And she didn’t care a fig.
As the strains of the waltz played, amazement and delicious anticipation filled her when Lucas led her onto the dance floor. His warm hand possessively settled on her hip, spanning her curves deliciously. And even through her gloved hand, she could feel his warmth radiate against her palm. With graceful movements, he led them into the throng of dancers. The sound of whispers filtered through the music of the string quartet. A wicked gleam illuminated his eyes, and Liliah didn’t shrink back, but firmly held his gaze.
It was far different to dance with Lucas than with Meyer. Her body was drawn to his, so much so that she had to make a conscious effort to maintain a proper distance.
And when his hand pressed into her back, pulling her in closer, she willingly obeyed.
Little did he know he was already beginning the seduction.
Or maybe he did know, but it mattered not. It was delicious. It was sinful. It was everything she had hoped it would be.
And it was only a dance.
Heavens, she might not survive the act!
Of course, there were worse ways to die.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Luc asked, a smoldering grin turning her insides to jelly.
“Thank you,” she uttered, settling on the words of primary importance.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been thanked for a tryst before it’s taken place,” he whispered quietly, his expression amused.
“Ah, but I wasn’t thanking you for that, just yet.” Her face heated, and she glanced behind him, for the first time seeing the amount of attention their dancing had drawn.
“Then why the thanks?” Luc asked, pulling her focus back to him.
He led her effortlessly, and she allowed herself to enjoy the dance, when all the other times she had dreaded it. “Because this dance was to have been with Meyer, as an announcement of sorts. You quite neatly allowed us to dodge it. I’m quite certain there will be hell to pay—”
