Sophia’s back met cold stone. His chest pressed against hers. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the warmth of his body through the layers of their clothing. His hand was firm over her lips, his breath hot against her temple.
The voices drew closer. Two women, chattering about something, their words indistinct. Footsteps clicked on marble. They paused near the balcony entrance, and Sophia stopped breathing.
“Did you hear something?” one asked.
“Probably a cat.” The other laughed. “Come, I must fix my hair before the next set.”
Their footsteps retreated, fading into silence.
He did not move.
He lowered his hand from her mouth, but his body remained pressed to hers, solid and warm in the cool night air. Moonlight spilled across the balcony, silvering his features, catching the darkness in his eyes.
Sophia could not look away.
His gaze dropped to her lips. His breath came ragged. She watched his control waver, watched the battle play out across his face, watched him lose. His thumb traced her lower lip slowly, and the breath left her body.
His breath became ragged. She watched his control waver, watched the battle play out across his face, then watched him lose.
“Forgive me.” The words escaped him like a confession. “I cannot help myself. You are… the undoing of every ounce of restraint I possess.”
He kissed her.
His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that stole her breath. His hand came up to cup her jaw, tilting her head, deepening the kiss. Sophia gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.
Heat roared through her veins. Her hands found his chest, his shoulders, the back of his neck. She pulled him closer, arching into him, meeting his passion with her own. He groaned, low in his throat, and the sound vibrated through her body.
He kissed her like a man drowning. Like she was air and light and everything he had ever denied himself. His fingers tangled in her hair, scattering pins, and she did not care. His other hand gripped her waist, pressing her harder against the wall, and she welcomed it. She could feel the strength in his hands, the roughness of his palms through the thin fabric of her gown, and she wanted more. Wanted to feel those hands everywhere.
She had been kissed before. Clumsy attempts by nervous suitors in her debut season. Those pale imitations bore no resemblance to this. This was fire and fury and a desperate, aching need that matched the one building inside her.
Her mother.
The thought broke through the haze of desire like cold water.
Sophia wrenched herself away, pressing her hands against his chest. He released her instantly, stepping back, his chest heaving, his eyes wild.
They stared at each other across the moonlit balcony.
“I should not have done that.”
The words found their mark. Sophia felt them settle in her chest, sharp and cold, cutting through the warmth that had bloomed there moments ago.
Of course he should not have. She was not the sort of woman dukes kissed on moonlit balconies. She was the spinster matchmaker he had blackmailed into service. An arrangement. An obligation.
A mistake.
“You’re right.” She lifted her chin, summoning every ounce of composure she possessed. “It was a mistake. We were both caught up in the moment. The danger of discovery.” She smoothed her skirts with trembling hands. “It won’t happen again.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Pain, perhaps. Or disappointment. It vanished before she could name it.
“Stay here.” Her voice steadied. “I will return to the ballroom alone. Wait a few minutes before following.”
She did not wait for his response. She walked through the French doors and down the corridor, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, her lips still burning from his kiss.
She found her mother in a small parlor off the main hall, deep in conversation with an elderly countess about the merits of different rose varieties. A lady’s maid hovered near thewindow with a damp cloth in hand. Safe. Unharmed. Completely oblivious to the terror Sophia had felt.
Sophia pressed a hand to her racing heart and leaned against the doorframe.
