Hunt blinked, confused by her accusation and her tone. “Excuse me?” he asked. Surely, he had misunderstood her. “Allow me to introduce myself.”
“That won’t be necessary as we shall never meet again.” She held her head high, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for saving me from falling.” She pivoted, stepping away from Hunt.
“You won’t allow me to introduce myself?” he called after her. “Have I offended you in some way?”
Surely, he had done something to cause her to treat him so rudely. Perhaps they had met before—no, he’d remember her. A part of him knew he’d remember her for the rest of his life. He hated the poetic romance of it, but it was true. If he never met the uniquely beautiful woman again, he’d always recall the beauty of her face, the depth in her eyes, and her thick dark curls.
Sighing, she faced him, her liquid brown eyes pools of knowledge, like she could see right through to the very core ofhim. It made him both intrigued and uncomfortable at the same time.
“You have not offended me. I just do not have time for the games of pretty scoundrels,” she said, folding her arms under her bosom.
The move pushed her handful of breasts up, and Hunt willed himself to keep his eyes locked on her face, but dear God, did he want to stare and fantasize about all the things he would do to her.
Mad. He was mad, and she was a rude little hellion.
“You think I’m pretty? I’ve never been called pretty before. I’m not sure if I would agree with you.” He was enjoying her irritation a bit too much.
“I don’t think of you at all, sir. We’re not acquainted.” A stray curl bounced against her cheek, and his fingers twitched to reach for it and caress it.
“That could be arranged, if you allowed me to introduce myself.” He tilted his head, observing her coolly. “Yet you have rendered me unworthy for no apparent reason. It was you after all who bumped into me.”
She stepped closer to him, and he tried—dear God did he try—to ignore the scent of vanilla and lavender wafting off her, all delectable and enticing.
“You are unworthy for the simple fact that every lady in the room has eyes only for you.” She waved a silk encased hand around the room, where the eyes of nearly every woman were indeed upon them. “That tells me everything I need to know.” Her smile was tight, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.
She was enjoying this. Hunt could admit he was as well.
“I’m sure a dance could remedy your low opinion of me, after an introduction, of course.” Hunt bowed slightly, intent on not allowing her to become lost among the crush.
It was refreshing to meet a woman who knew her own mind and was not afraid to speak freely.
She laughed, low and hearty. “You haven’t heard the word no very often, have you?” she asked, a playful smile dancing at the corner of her lips.
“No, I’m not accustomed to not getting my way,” he said truthfully.
When Hunt wanted something, he went after it. The problem was that he hadn’t wanted anything in a year other than horses and caring for his mother and sister. And then she’d bumped into him, changing him in an instant.
“Well, I’m glad to be the first one to ever disappoint you, my lord,” she said, leaning slightly closer to him, before whispering, “Do enjoy the rest of the ball.”
His hellion was gone before he could stop her, weaving through the crush easily, leaving him standing in the middle of it all like a fool in disbelief.
She refused him.
He, Hunter Wakefield, was denied a dance by the most captivating woman he’d ever had the pleasure of not being introduced to.
“Why am I not surprised that a bastard would be attracted to a bastard whore,” his cousin’s whiny cold voice called out from behind him.
Hunt exhaled several times before he faced the insufferable lout that he had the privilege of being related to.
“Augustus,” he greeted in a monotone voice, trying not to allow the other man’s words to affect him. “I would suggest you refrain from insulting the lady.”
It didn’t matter what Augustus thought of Hunt, his cousin shouldn’t speak ill of the mysterious hellion. She wasn’t Hunt’s to protect, and he’d wager his fortune that she could protect himself against his cousin. But none of that mattered, becauseHunt would guard her from the likes of Augustus—even if he never saw her again.
Mere moments would be all he’d have with her, but that was good. He had no plans of falling under the spell of any woman, especially not a mouthy hellion.
“Or what? You’ll attack me in public where everyone can see?” Augustus taunted, well aware that if Hunt made a spectacle of himself that could end his chances of maintaining the Wakefield fortune.
“I see you’ve crawled out of your hole for the evening.” Hunt shook his head, not wanting to spend air on his cousin.
