“I am. I was. I just can’t imagine trying to sleep right now!”
Max strolled closer and shifted to rest his backside on one of the tables.
His eyes pinned on her.
“I have scotch in my office.”
Was he asking her to stay and share a drink with him? But… why else would he mention it?
“You want to have a drink before we leave?”
“It might help you sleep.” He was perfectly relaxed, just watching her.
“Yes. Yes, then.” She glanced around the room to ensure she wasn’t forgetting anything and then sighed. “I am just so very pleased! That edition is beautiful. One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!”
“Not the most beautiful.”
He was still staring at her.
He is not talking about me—no one had ever accused her of being beautiful. Tolerably pretty, yes. Intelligent—obviously. And of course, those fickle men at the last ball who’d told her mother she was lovely.
But never, never beautiful.
Giddy for a moment, she pushed herself away from the table and spun in a circle. And then she spun again, and before she could stop herself, she was up on her toes, dancing around the table.
“I thought you said you couldn’t waltz.” Max’s words halted her whimsical steps. Not because she heard disapproval, quite the opposite.
“I said the ladies at Almacks hadn’t given me the nod yet,” Caroline pointed out, all the while he closed the distance between them.
“Dance it with me, then.” The pitch of his voice was lower, gravelly-sounding.
There was no music, and the tables and chairs would be considerable obstacles. But she couldn’t help herself.
Caroline gave a tiny nod, and then inhaled and gave a more deliberate one.
Slowly, and with their gazes locked, he placed one hand on her waist. Caroline lifted hers to his shoulder. When his other hand wrapped around hers, Caroline’s breath hitched. That moment, that room, the two of them, became her entire world.
And then he was guiding her around the tables and chairs expertly, like she knew he could.
She ought to be chastely sitting in a hackney, nearly home. Alone.
This was foolish. Silly. And, oh, it was wonderful.
She threw her head back and laughed. Warmth engulfed her chest, effervescing to her limbs, carrying little champagne bubbles. She’d known similar feelings before, but not recently.
And then, tears burned the back of her eyes and her throat thickened. Caroline swallowed hard, but it only thickened again.
Finishing a twirl, he caught her, pausing. “What is it?”
Without the distraction of other couples or music, he seemed to sense her change in mood immediately.
Caroline frowned, shaking her head. “I…I haven’t felt this in over a year.” One tear spilled over. Without her hands free, she leaned forward and brushed her face on his jacket. “I forgot what this feels like.”
“Dancing?” His chest rumbled beneath her cheek.
“No.” And then it dawned on her and she leaned back. “Happiness. I feel happy.”
His mouth parted, as though she’d surprised him. And then he licked his lips.
