Justin gave him an amused look. He would have responded, but his attention was drawn to the entryway of the ballroom. His retort died in his throat. It washer. The woman from the park was here. Her upswept hair sat atop her head in a pile of curls, leaving her slender neck bare. The creamy expanse of skin extended down to the bodice of her dress where the swells of her breasts plumped over the neckline in a suggestive manner. Then his eyes settled on the rest of her dress. An unexpected thrill shot through him even as he took in her shocking attire. Had he misjudged her? Was she a courtesan? And if so, what was she doing here?
He nudged Case. “Who is that just coming in?”
Case followed the direction of Justin’s gaze. “She’s beautiful, isn't she?” he asked casually.
“She’s magnificent.”
Case grinned. “That’s Jillian.”
Justin’s smile froze and he closed his eyes in dismay. The taste of disappointment was thick in his mouth. No matter how insensible his actions had been during their first meeting, her shocking behavior far surpassed his. He swallowed the knot of regret and schooled his features.
He could now understand Case’s infatuation. She was indeed a sight to behold. His own attraction had been keen, but no matter how beautiful she was, there was no excuse for her blatant disregard for propriety.
He had difficulty reconciling the image of the wistful young woman sitting on the park bench with the brazen reputation she garnered, yet the vulgar, red satin dress she wore shouted volumes about her character.
Frowning, he watched her face light up as Case took her hand. Oh yes, she was lovely. Perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered. Unbidden thoughts of her enchanting smile came to mind—and the inviting lips he had almost kissed. Swearing under his breath, he turned away from the approaching couple. What kind of woman was she to have almost kissed him when she had an agreement with his brother? And what kind of man was he to have acted with such abandon?
Jillian’s spirits lifted as she caught sight of Case’s sunny visage. As he approached her through the crush of people, his green eyes twinkled with mischief, a direct contrast to the image of golden innocence his blond hair gave him.
She searched for some sign of his reaction to her attire, but his smile never wavered. She extended her hand as he stopped in front of her, and he tucked it under his arm. The room had grown quiet, and every eye was upon Jillian, but she held her chin up, her back stiff with pride.
“I’ve someone I want you to meet,” Case said as they began to thread their way through the crowd.
As they passed, the women turned away from Jillian, and the men leered at the outrageous dress. She looked curiously at Case. “Who is it?”
“Justin has returned from India. He’s here tonight.”
She halted immediately, pulling Case back. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered. “Case, I would have never worn—” She broke off, glancing down at her gown in despair. “I would have never done anything to embarrass you in front of the duke.” She had been so absorbed in vanquishing her past that she hadn’t given thought to how her appearance might reflect on Case.
“You are not an embarrassment to me, Jilly,” Case said firmly, his penetrating stare holding her gaze. “Now come, he is waiting.”
As they made their way to the far end of the room, Jillian looked curiously at the man they were approaching. From behind, she couldn’t tell much, though he was taller than Case. His hair was dark where Case’s was blond, and his shoulders seemed a bit broader. Then he turned and her heart dropped and her mouth went dry. The man she had met in the park was Case’s brother, theduke?
As his gaze lighted on her, she could see the disapproval reflected in his eyes, eyes that in their previous meeting were full of warmth. It was no more than she expected, knowing he would have been made aware of Case’s involvement with her, but what she had not expected was for the duke to be the man she had met and almost kissed in the park!
Disappointment gripped her, leaving her slightly shaky. Humiliation at him having witnessed her vulnerability stung her pride. She willed herself not to display the tide of insecurity and uncertainty she was feeling as they came to a stop in front of the unsmiling man.
“Jillian, this is my brother, Justin, the Duke of Whittington. Justin, I present Jillian.”
“Your grace,” she murmured, gracefully executing a curtsy.
“My lady, I have heard much about you,” he said, raising her gloved hand to his lips.
“I’m sure none of it has been complimentary,” she said blandly.
He raised an eyebrow at her outspokenness. “My condolences on your recent loss.”
She quashed the urge to snap a retort. Instead she murmured her thanks. The orchestra struck up a waltz and he bowed in front of her.
“May I have the honor of this dance?”
She reluctantly placed her hand on his shoulder and allowed him to lead her into the steps. She may as well get this over with. The reprimand was sure to be forthcoming.
They danced a few moments, Jillian feeling the weight of his stare. She looked up at him, challengingly meeting his eyes. Every nerve in her body was on edge, and she could feel the heat of his touch through the layers of his gloves and her dress. As she remembered how close his lips had gotten to hers just hours earlier, a flush crept up her neck and into her cheeks, and suddenly the room was over warm.
“We meet again,” he said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Your dismay over my identity must be choking,” Jillian said in a tight voice.
