With shaking hands, she smoothed her hair and patted her hot cheeks. She had to return or Sebastian, who was most assuredly watching after her, would worry.
Taking a deep breath, she marched back into the ballroom, hoping that her calm façade belied her inner turmoil. Scanning rapidly for any sign of Gray, she headed in the direction of Quinn.
“Lady Jenna, I do hope you will reserve a dance for me.” Gray stepped in front of her, his husky voice sending pinpricks over her entire body. “Preferably a waltz.”
Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. He bowed and backed away into the crowd.
On shaky legs, she moved toward where Quinn stood, the men vying for her attention gone now. “Is something amiss?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” she said breathlessly.
“Who was the man who stopped you on your way over?”
“Oh him. He asked for a dance, and I consented.”
“Then why are you biting your lip?”
Her hand flew up to her lips. “Oh, you vile man! I was doing no such thing.”
He chuckled. “Whoever he is, he seems to have made quite an impression.”
She breathed a sigh of relief when Lord Malcolm returned bearing a glass of lemonade. Taking it from him, she placed the rim to her lips and surveyed the ballroom, looking for Gray. Given his reputation, she assumed he would be in the company of large crowds of women, but he was nowhere to be found.
Then her eyes lighted on him, his dark head bent in conversation with Lady Lockhart. He looked up, and their eyes met. She shivered as a slow smile spread across his face. He inclined his head slightly in her direction. Butterflies danced in her stomach and threatened to swirl into her throat.
Quickly, she turned away, as her next dance partner claimed her attention. As she completed the turns of a quadrille, she felt Gray’s eyes on her. It felt as if he were sliding her dress down her back with the sheer force of his gaze.
His burning stare followed her into her next dance and then the next. Every time she looked up, he was caressing her with his gaze. Undressing her with the slow movement of his eyes. The ballroom warmed considerably, and she was forced to snap open her fan.
When she broke away from her partner after the third dance, a warm hand curled around her elbow. “I believe this dance is mine.”
She turned to face Gray as the orchestra struck up the first chords of a waltz. He gathered her into his arms, and she placed one hand on his shoulder. His fingers curled around her free hand, his touch burning through the thin layer of her glove.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she murmured, even as she recognized the silliness of her statement. He frequented society functions, even if he wasn’t a regular attendant. But still, seeing him had been a shock.
“Lady Lockhart is a close acquaintance of mine,” he replied. “And though I am not well connected, I am welcome in society circles.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t, sir. I am sure your wealth and your...expertise makes you very popular with theton.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I am not sure I want to know what you mean by that.”
A flush crept up her neck and threatened to take over her face. If he continued to look at her thus, she was going to go up in flames right here on the ballroom floor.
“Shall I send my carriage for you at midnight? Or is that too early?”
His heated whisper slid over her ears and down the bare expanse of her neck. She nearly closed her eyes and leaned into him, her need making her legs unsteady. “No...I do not plan on staying out late.”
“A wise choice,” he murmured. “You must save your energy for other matters.”
She swallowed convulsively. “You are quite forward, sir.”
He gave her an astonished look. “This coming from a woman who sought me in my home and asked me to become her lover?”
“I see your point,” she said ruefully.
They settled into silence as they dipped and swayed with the music. She kept a keen eye for any untoward glances thrown in their direction. The last thing she needed was scrutiny over why she was dancing with a man renowned for his seduction of women.
“I’ve danced with many other ladies tonight.”
