It had been just two hours since she’d made her vow to Celia to help her with the infuriating man. Two hours since she’d committed herself to flirting with him. But now she wasn’t sure how to do that. How did one approach one’s greatest enemy and deepest temptation? How did one flirt with the most confusing and appealing man in the room?
He turned his gaze into the crowd, and suddenly his eyes focused on her. His expression all but smoldered as he held her stare evenly, not allowing her any route for escape. He leaned over to his family and said a few words, then moved in Rosalinde’s direction.
She caught her breath as he approached her, thinking as she always did when she saw him, of that night at the inn when he had stalked her way, passionate intention in his dark eyes. He had almost the very same expression on his face now and her entire body reacted against her will, readying for him as if he would take her right here, right now.
“Mrs. Wilde,” he said as he reached her at last. “Would you like to dance the next with me?”
He held out a hand. It was gloved, as was her own, but she had no doubt those thin layers of satin would do nothing to reduce the impact of his touch. She knew what his skin felt like, what it tasted like. She wasn’t likely to forget just because a few fragile layers of propriety now separated them.
But there was no choice in the matter. She had promised Celia that she would help. The only way she could do that was to use their mutual attraction against his man.
“Yes,” she said, hating how breathless she sounded. Hating that he obviously heard her desperation, if his smirk was any indication.
She took his offered hand, ignoring the jolt of awareness that came along with touching him, and let him lead her to the dance floor. As they took their places, the orchestra began a waltz. Rosalinde just barely held back a curse. Of course it would be a waltz. There would be no respite from his embrace with a country jig or quadrille. Just her in his arms, almost scandalously close, until they were released by the music.
He glided her into motion with an effortless grace, and for the first few bars of the dance, they were both silent. His hand rested on her hip, his fingers splayed almost too intimately. Her other hand was in his, their fingers entangled. From this viewpoint, looking up at him, she could see every angle of his face. And she remembered all too clearly what those features had looked like when rapt with passion and release.
“We don’t have to be enemies,” he said, his deep voice breaking the spell between them at last.
She swallowed hard. Now was the time to focus. For her own sake, as much as Celia’s. “I agree,” she said.
He seemed surprised by her response. “You do?”
She nodded. “Of course. I liked you at the inn, Gray…Mr. Danford.”
His fingers tightened on her hip. “Gray,” he said softly.
That was inappropriate, and she knew it. And there was no way she could ever call him by his given name in front of anyone else. But when they were alone…if it served a purpose…
“Gray,” she whispered. “And I thought you liked me in return.”
His smile was brief, but oh, so wicked. “YouknowI liked you. There was no denying that Ilikedyou.”
His statement, so inappropriate because of what it referenced, made her blush hot. But she also found herself smiling at his gentle teasing, his pointed reminder of the deep connection they had shared that stolen night.
If this was flirtation, it didn’t seem as hard now that they were together.
“I can’t deny that seeing you here again gave me a charge, Rosalinde,” he continued. “Can you?”
She hesitated. Ladies should not talk of such things, she knew that. And yet his tone was almost hypnotic. It made her want to say and do such inappropriate things.
“I can’t deny it,” she gasped out.
His pupils dilated as his expression grew more focused. “I will also admit that seeing you makes me want…more.”
“Yes,” she said. “You kissed me a few days ago. I think that proves what you say.”
He nodded. “Andyoukissed me back.”
“I-I did,” she admitted.
He smiled, and that expression softened his normally hard face. “Then it seems I’m not alone in this…this wildly inappropriate attraction between us.”
“No,” she said before she thought. The moment the admission was out, she ducked her head, missing the next two steps as embarrassment filled her. Helping Celia was one thing. Labeling herself a wanton to a man whose intentions were unclear…well, that was another.
“You are honest,” he said softly, his voice free of the censure she had feared would be there.
She lifted her gaze to his and held as evenly as she could. “I thought you believed I had no honesty in me.”
