He placed his hand at the side of her waist; the warmth seeped through her, heating her very soul in a way she’d never experienced. It was different when Lord Westhouse held her in the frame of the waltz. Her whole body reacted to the heat of Lord Sterling’s hand, causing her already pounding heart to take flight.
She forced her reactions to the back of her mind as she held her chin high and placed her hand on his shoulder, and the other hand within his. Even through her glove his hand was warm, and so much larger than hers that it nearly swallowed it whole. And good Lord, the man was tall. She’d noticed it before, and again when he’d kissed her. But that kiss was so sudden that she hadn’t truly taken the time to consider any other nuances present. But now, she desperately needed a distraction and that was the perfect one. Her head was just to the height of his shoulder in such close proximity, but even in his height, he wasn’t slight. She’d always thought that tall men were merely more stretched out, so they were smaller, leaner in other ways.
Not so with Lord Sterling.
He was . . . oh, what was the word? Proportionate. Yes. And she was thrilled to have such a perfect distraction from the way he led her around the dance floor, keeping her mind occupied.
“You’re unusually quiet,” he remarked, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. They were a lovely color, bright and cheerful. How had she not noticed before?
Drat, she was losing her footing. She felt the telltale bump under her slipper that meant she had stepped halfway on his boot rather than the floor.
To his credit, he didn’t wince.
Not too much.
Grace found herself in the odd position of not knowing what to say. Speechlessness wasn’t a malady she suffered often, if ever. However, she was having a rather difficult time coming up with an answer to his comment.
“Oh?” was all she could reply, then kicked herself mentally for such a stupid answer.
“Yes. You’re usually rather . . . chatty.”
She blinked.Chatty?“Perhaps I have nothing to say,” she replied tersely.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Apparently believing me is not something you’re able to do this evening. I can’t imagine why,” she bit out, trying to keep her face from betraying her irritation.
He smirked, the cad! “You’re rather hard to believe when your words say one thing, and your actions say another.”
“I already told you—”
“Yes, and how did that end?” he interrupted, an arch to his brow.
She twisted her lips and glanced to the side. Drat! He had a point, miserable man that he was.
All her trepidation melted in the heat of her anger at the realization that the kiss had been given in order to make a point.
And she’d fallen for it.
Her nostrils flared; she could feel them as she breathed in the realization that she’d been taken in, fooled, and made a fool of in the process!
“How dare you—”
“Shhh, you’ll make a scene.” He gave his head a little shake and gave a meaningful glance around the ballroom.
Grace stepped on his toe, hard.
“That was on purpose,” he accused with a small grin, as if her efforts were merely amusing.
“I was making a point. Like you did earlier this evening.” She arched a brow, stiffening her spine.
His brow furrowed, and he regarded her as if studying a specimen. She wanted to do more than simply step on his foot. How dare he even pretend he didn’t fully understand!
“Do you think so little of my intelligence that you didn’t imagine I’d figure it out? You were simply pushing your point, and I conceded. You won. But I’m a fast learner, and I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Her face was hot with perturbation as she regarded him, daring him to deny it.
“Pity, that.”
Grace frowned. That was not the reaction she was expecting.
