"We don't run in the same circle." She was determined to keep things light, even though every cell in her body was acutely aware of him. The idea of a light flirtation and a harmless affair were dissolving.
"What circle do you run in?"
"Middle class, one that's out of your league. Daddy a banker and mommy a doctor." She had come up with that story on her way here.
"Is this your first time here?"
His voice was deep and cultured, sending warmth flooding through her body.
"It is, yes." Lifting her head, she inhaled the scent of honeysuckle and iris. "The view is stunning."
"I suppose." He was feeling suddenly tongue tied. "If you tell me you're involved with someone, I'm going to have to go somewhere and slit my wrist."
Her laugh was low and throaty and had her feeling amazed that she could be flirting with a man like him.
"And we wouldn't want that, would we." Her lashes flickered up to settle on his lips before moving to his eyes. The expression in the tawny depths had her jolting. "I--er--" She stumbled over the words and felt the panic starting.
She did not belong here with these people. This was a mistake and something warned her that she should leave now before it's too late.
She started to slide the jacket off when he reached out a hand to stop her.
"Why don't we go for a drive?" He suggested. He had to get her alone. The need to taste her was so strong, he was surprised he was not coming apart at the seams.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Look--"
He drew her closer, hands running over the jacket draped over her arms.
"There's nothing to be afraid of." His tone was soothing, lulling her into complacency. "I want to get to know you better."
"I'm not having sex with you." It was blurted out, sophistication forgotten.
Tawny eyes lit with amusement as he continued to stare at her.
"How disappointing. And here I was hoping you would let me drag you to the floor and have my way with you." His expression sobered. "It's just a drive, Melanie, one where I get to know more about you."
"I--"
"Please." His hand tightened on her arms. "From the moment you stepped into the room, I felt something. We'll just talk, nothing more. You have my word."
Her conscience warred with her desire and desire won. Dismissing the idea that she was about to embark on apretentious journey that could have severe repercussions, she found herself nodding.
"Thank you."
"I have to tell my friend that I'm leaving for a while."
"You do that, while I inform my mother that she's on her own." His smile flashed and charmed her completely. "I'm sure she won't mind."
He kept his eyes on her. Something told him that she was on the verge of disappearing. He had seen the uncertainty on her face when he suggested going for a ride. If necessary, he would hunt her down.
"Darling, who is she?"
"Her name is Melanie." He was trying not to sound impatient, but at least she was right in his line of vision. "Mother--"
"Go." She cast a speculative look at the woman who had caught the attention of her son and could not blame him for being so dazzled. She was a beautiful creature and in a room filled with a bevy of beautiful women, she somehow seemed to stand out.
"Thanks." Bending, he kissed her cheek, before striding off.
"Who's that woman?" The demand had her turning to the source. Catherine Delacroix was from one of the oldest families in New England and was therefore one of the most respected matrons in their society.
