“Is it possible that kissing you is part of this scheme to make Captain Edgeworth jealous? Is it possible that Captain Edgeworth would guess what happened after he’d left you alone with the marquess?” Collette asked the question that had been teasing Diana ever since.
“I don’t know. But a kiss cannot be fake just because he says it is. A kiss is real.” Especially with the way she had felt his touch, taste, texture, and his secret desire with every fiber of her being.
“Do you want it to be real?”
“No!” But her denial was instinctual, the response she would have given her sister before—when she had considered the Marquess of Greystone as nothing more than their brother’s lofty friend. “I don’t even know his given name. I doubt I ever will. He’s so much older than me, and… he’s amarquess.” She bit her lip. She would never allow herself to fall for a titled man that way. To do so was unthinkable.
Even if he was also handsome and charming and honorable. Was this how their mother had felt when she’d first met their father? Diana winced at the thought.
“Dee…” Of course, her sister was able to read her mind. “He is amarquess.” Collette’s voice was filled with all the caution and warning older siblings managed to convey so easily.
“I know, but…”
She did remember the moment, though—the exact moment she’d first viewed him differently. It was in his ballroom, just after she’d danced for Lady Posey. She had caught him watching her with a gleam of interest, a unique appreciation in his eyes. And he had not shown any reluctance at having to partner her that afternoon in his ballroom.
Dancing with him had been like a dream. Not only because the steps came effortlessly to him, but because he moved as though he, too, could feel the music.
“We cannot all have eyes that match the exact color of the sea on a summer day,”he had told her.
Diana had spoken to him with no respect for propriety. She had teased him for his lace and fine colors. Because by refusing to be serious, she’d been able to ignore the alarming sensations she’d felt when he placed his arm on her back and grasped her hand in his—even if he’d only done so because the dance required it.
His extravagant clothing, she’d realized, ironically magnified his masculinity.
“We cannot all have eyes that match the exact color of the sea on a summer day.”
He’d complimented her almost reluctantly, as though he couldn’t help himself. Diana would wager everything she owned that that afternoon—that dance, in fact—he too had seen her in a different light. Not that he’d wanted to, but…
He’d become aware of her as a woman.
The thought was a tantalizing one, even though she knew their attraction was hopeless.
“You are ridiculous sometimes.” Collette rose from her chair and moved toward the door. “Just don’t do anything foolish.”
“I won’t,” Diana answered even as her conscience niggled at her.
Because one thing was for sure, and she would not lie to herself. If Lord Greystone kissed her again, she wasn’t about to stop him.
