“Your dreams?”
“Oh yes, I expect you will be the inspiration tonight.”
“Oh…” Her lips froze in a perfectO. Benedict’s vulgar mind supplied too many unseemly scenarios in rapid succession before he shook the thoughts away.
“I’ve shocked you…”
“No, I— Well, yes, actually. But…”
Benedict’s heart skittered. “Do you like it? The thought of being in my dreams?”
He waited, breath bated, as her eyes scanned his face. “Don’t stop,” she finally murmured, and breath escaped him entirely. She couldn’t know how those two words affected him.
“I long to hear those words in a different context.”
Eliza’s blush surprised him. Perhaps she had some sense of the ways he wished for her to beg him not to stop, to never stop. Still, he could not continue such salacious conversation on the dance floor. As it was, they were assuredly causing a minor scandal.
He cleared his throat. “I apologize; that was most improper.”
Somehow, Eliza appeared both disappointed and relieved. Still, she shook away whatever thoughts were dancing through her mind.
“Perhaps we ought to return to more appropriate topics.”
“If you insist. The effort shall be yours. I am unequal to such a task.”
Her smile was indulgent but not encouraging. “I must thank you for asking Rose to dance.”
He blinked, surprised by the turn. “Of course, but why should I require thanking?”
“Oh, it’s only that she hasn’t danced all season.” At his baffled expression, she continued. “I believe the gentlemen assume she cannot—since she cannot hear the music.”
“Why on earth should that matter? A lead with any skill should be more than able to compensate.”
“Oh, I quite agree. Her brother as well. He has lamented it at every ball. The gentlemen would not hesitate if they saw how light she is on her feet. So you see, it’s a great favor.”
Benedict scoffed. “It is hardly a favor to dance with a pretty girl. She suffers only by virtue of not being my favorite partner.” He gave her a pointed look. “But, as she is a friend of yours, I hope to use the opportunity to gather intelligence.”
“Do be serious,” she giggled.
“Oh, I am entirely serious. That is my entire motivation in dancing with your sister as well.”
Eliza’s expression shuttered, but Benedict could not account for it. “What is it?” he demanded.
“Nothing.”
“No, that is twice your face has fallen tonight. Now that I’ve experienced the privilege of basking in your delight, I’ll accept nothing less. Tell me at once.”
Eliza’s teeth caught her lower lip as she assessed him. The display would have left him groaning were it not for her uneasy expression. Finally, she sighed.
“Please do not enjoy your dance with Sophie too much.”
His head tilted as the last piece slotted into place. One corner of his mouth turned up in an assuring smile as he brushed his thumb along her waist. He doubted she could feel the gesture through layers of silk and cotton, but it was the only way he might soothe her physically without being thrown from the ball.
“I assure you, that will not be possible. When I say you will feature in my dreams tonight, it is not an exaggeration or a line. I know without a doubt you will meet me in sleep tonight. There is no room in my head for anyone else.”
Benedict’s fingers tightened on her waist, willing her to understand, to believe him. There was no danger of Benedict Sinclair noticing Sophie Wayland, not once he’d had Eliza in his arms.
Chapter Eleven
