She nodded.“Adequately.”
“Well. Perhaps we should do it again. You could give mepointers.”
“Nottonight. I’m busy.”
He laughed, warmand rich and deep.
Warmth filledher. She did love it when she made him laugh. Something told her hehad not much laughter in his life.
The back of hisfingers brushed her temple, his thumb collecting the last of thewetness on her cheek. “Shall we return to the ballroom?”
Nodding, sheclosed her eyes as he swept his thumb over her cheekagain.
His handtravelled over her jaw, her neck, rested on her shoulder beforelifting. When she opened her eyes, he gave her a half-smile and hisarm.
Taking his arm,she let him lead her from the room.
Chapter Ten
ACROSS THE HEATH, STEPHEN drove the ball down thefield. Face a mask of concentration, his muscles moved under hisshirt as his strong thighs hurled him down the pitch, striking theball to keep it ever before him.
Tongue pressedto her upper teeth, Sera watched him. She had no notion a footballmatch could be so thrilling. Stephen was mesmerising, fluidity andstrength and speed. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him, his shirtstuck to his chest, in places transparent and displaying the hintof firm golden flesh. His breeches hugged tight to the heavymuscles of his thighs, and she felt hot and faint and she wantedbadly to trace the lines of his chest.
They hadattended several more societal gatherings—balls, garden parties,musicales—and she had thought no more on Miss Edirisinghe and herrevelation. The girl had attempted to call but each time Sera hadpretended absence, to the point where Higgins’s expression hadturned slightly reproving. She didn’t want to think on her fatherand what it meant that he had spent his presence the whole of MissEdirisinghe’s life, while his oldest daughter could count hispresence in a number of hours.
The finalwhistle sounded. Wiping at the corner of her eye, she smiled as aboy locked hands in celebration with Stephen, a wide grin splittinghis face. He said something and Stephen responded, running his handthrough his damp hair. The move pulled his shirt tight against hisbicep, the muscles straining against the fabric.
Sera’s mouthwent dry.
He finishedspeaking with the boy, clapping him on the shoulder, and, spyingher, a huge smile lit his face. She told herself the thrill thatran through her was due to the chill in the air, or residualemotion from the game. He started toward her and she watched hisprogress, lifting her chin as he stopped before her.
“Youcame,” he greeted her.
“Idid.”
Propping hisfoot on the fence she leant against, he said, “You had the loftiestexpression on your face when I invited you, as if I had insultedyou terribly. I did not think you would come.”
She sniffed.“Well, you were wrong.”
He grinned andshe fought the tugging at her own lips. “What did youthink?”
“Itwas…energetic, was it not? Congratulations on your victory.” Sheraised a brow. “At least, I assume that was what all the punchingand shoving was about.”
“Itwas indeed. We’re five-one for the season. Not bad, if I do say somyself.”
She nodded as ifshe knew of what he spoke.
His grinwidened. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, doyou?”
Glaring at him,she tossed her head.
Helaughed.
A man loped overto them, beaming. “You won!” he shouted excitedly.
Stephen rolledhis eyes. “You state the obvious, Ash.”
“Twoto nil! A triumph! You didn’t even bugger it all up!”
