Sera’s gazedrifted again to the girl in the orange gown. Her imperiousnessdied, something haunted instead painting her expression.
Frowning, hefollowed her gaze. He could see nothing to prompt such a reaction,merely the girl in the orange gown. “What is wrong?”
“Hmm?” she said without turning to him.
“There is something wrong. What is it?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
His frowndeepened. He watched her watch the girl and waited.
“What?” she finally asked.
“Nothing. Because apparently nothing is wrong.” Reaching out,he rubbed his thumb over the top of the gloved hand in herlap.
Startled greyeyes met his. “What are you doing?”
Giving her alazy smile, he traced her knuckles. “Getting yourattention.”
Her breathcaught, and then she scowled. “Well, now you have it, and theattention of every gossip hungry matron of the Ton,” she saidtartly. “You know what they will say.”
“No,I don’t.”
Colour high, sheshot him a look filled with annoyance. She couldn’t disguise,though, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. Fascinated, hedragged his thumb over the delicate veins on the back of her handand she stifled a gasp. “They will comment on your action, and itwill become more than it is, and then we shall have tomarry.”
Heartthundering, he shifted his legs, hiding his rapidly hardening cock.“All because I touched your hand?”
“Marriages have been started with much less,” she saiddarkly.
What was itabout that tone that arrowed straight to his cock? Leaning forward,he took her hand between his. “Oh, no. It looks like we aredoomed.”
“Stephen,” she hissed, trying to tug away.
He refused tolet go. “What if I do this?” He flicked open the first buttonnearest her wrist.
“Wh-what are you doing?” She licked her lips.
Christ, hertongue. He wanted it. Ignoring her, he caressed the second buttonopen.
Her breathcaught.
He couldn’t tearhis gaze from the small patch of skin he was revealing. Her pulsefluttered beneath delicate flesh, all soft and creamy. He wonderedif it was as delicious as it looked.
Mesmerised, hemade to bring her wrist to his lips.
“Stephen,” she said, her voice husky. Lifting his gaze tohers, darkened grey eyes captured his, and he almost tugged herforward, almost forgot they weren’t alone.
“Stephen,” she said again.
Abruptly, thesounds of the theatre intruded. He let her tug her hand from hisgrasp and he willed his body to calm. Clearing his throat, heforced himself to recall what they were discussing. “There issomething wrong, Sera. You keep staring at that girl in the orangedress.”
Colour high, shefroze in the middle of buttoning her glove. “No, I’mnot.”
He didn’t deignto respond to such a patently false statement.
Closing her eyesbriefly, she conceded, “You are right. I was staring.”
“Why?”
