“That is a diplomatic answer,” she said, laughing. “You are a wonderful dancer, though.”
He shrugged. “A gentleman’s purpose on the dance floor is to make the lady look even more elegant. If I succeed, it says more about my partner than me.”
“Is it one of your passions?” She stepped closer.
His eyes widened a bit, the pupils dilating. “Passions?”
“In the carriage the other day,” she clarified. “I asked you about your passions and you were vague at best. Since you are so good at dancing, I wondered if that was one of yours.”
He swallowed, and she found herself fascinated by how his throat worked at the action. “Something like it.” His voice was low, rough, and that tingle between her legs that he seemed to so easily inspire started up again in earnest.
“Well,” she said, surprised that her own voice contained a similar timber. “You are light on your feet for such a…big man.”
He chuckled, but as that laughter faded away, the silence grew heavy between them. She watched, fascinated, as he took a long step toward her. Suddenly he felt very close indeed. Close and big and hot. So very hot as he stepped into her personal space.
She stared up at him, aware that her heart was throbbing and her hands were shaking at her sides.
“This isn’t what I planned, Amelia,” he whispered, his voice barely carrying despite his standing so close.
For the first time she believed him. That he hadn’t meant to rip her life apart. It didn’t stop him, of course, but the intention meant something at least.
“No?” she asked. “What was?”
He remained still for a moment. Quiet. But tonight he was not unreadable. Tonight she sensed a longing in him, something that sang to the longing she suddenly felt herself.
“I don’t know,” he admitted as he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek.
She caught her breath, and then there was no breath. There was no light, no sound, no other person or beast in the whole world. There was only him as he lowered his head slowly and brushed his lips to hers.
Hugh had not meant to kiss Amelia. He’d wanted to. Truth be told, he’d wanted to do just that since the first moment he’d watched her pick flowers in her father’s garden. What man wouldn’t? She was exquisite and her full lips were like a beacon, begging for his mouth on hers.
But tonight he’d truly only meant to give her a break from the watchful eyes of the ball. And now it had escalated and his arms were around her and his mouth was on hers.
Her lips parted beneath his on a shaky sigh of pleasure, and he couldn’t resist. He glided his tongue inside and was nearly unmanned by the sweet, sultry flavor of her. His hands strayed to her lower back and molded her to him as the kiss spiraled into something dark and passionate that bordered on out of control.
He wanted her. To stake his claim in the most physical way possible. Here and now, propriety and consequences be damned. He wanted to make her forget that she loved someone else. He wanted to make himself forget the sting of that fact.
But if he drove any further, those animal desires would take over, and he couldn’t let that happen. She already believed him an ogre—taking her in his garden would do nothing to mitigate that.
With great difficulty, he pulled away. She remained in his arms, staring up at him with bleary, unblinking eyes. “Hugh—” she began, her voice shaking and her fingers tightening on his forearms.
God’s teeth, but she tested a man. He was ready to claim her mouth once more when he heard someone clear their throat.
He released her and she paced away, her hand lifting to her lips as she stared off at some far-away place across his garden. He turned and glared as one of the footmen stood at the path, staring at anything but his master.
“What is it?” Hugh snapped, more sharply than he had intended.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. Murphy requested that I ask for your assistance. It seems there is some kind of trouble with Lady Brookfield and—”
Hugh pressed his lips together hard. “Murphy knows how to handle these things. Tell him—”
Amelia stepped up, and her gentle hand on his silenced his snappish reply. “Hugh, why don’t you go take care of it? Murphy doesn’t seem the kind of man who would send for you without cause. I’ll…I’ll gather myself and come back to the ball in a moment.”
He stared down at her, seeing his desire reflected in her eyes, though in a much more innocent and slightly confused way. That she wanted him set his soul on fire, but he tamped down the reaction and inclined his head slightly. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. Very.”
He looked at their hands, now intertwined. She followed his gaze and snatched hers away, her cheeks turning bright pink as she did so. “If you are certain, then I will do so. I will look for you later.”
