She didn’t question.
Grabbing the back of his coat, she let him lead her out of the throng to a door beneath the balcony where the orchestra was picking up their instruments in preparation for the next dance. But before Kincaid could open the door, a woman stepped in front of it.
“Hello,” she purred, fluttering her lashes. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Joanna stepped out from behind Kincaid. “Who is this?”
A muscle quivered in his jaw. “Lady Lavinia Townsend.”
Thiswas Lavinia Townsend? This blonde, petite woman with sharp green eyes and a shark’s smile?
She didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t question.
Drawing her arm back as far as it would go, Joanna brought it forward and punched Lady Lavinia Townsend right in the middle of her smirking face.
With a guttural wail, Lavinia collapsed to the ground in a pool of peach satin.
Shaking out her fist, Joanna gave her first genuine grin of the night. “That felt good.”
Kincaid stared at her in astonishment. “That was…”
“Long overdue?” she suggested.
“Yes,” he said. “Exceedingly.”
Together, they walked around Lavinia and through the door which led to a hallway filled with family portraits in gold filigreed frames. Another door led to a library, dimly lit by a crackling fire. Books of all types lined the walls and were stacked on tables and chairs. There was a desk in the far corner, and a set of matching sofas upholstered in pink velvet with rosewood trim in the middle.
Joanna sat on one sofa. After pouring her a glass of water from a pitcher by the desk, Kincaid sat on the other.
Her gaze on the logs burning in the hearth, she sipped slowly from her glass. “This is better. I don’t know what I expected from my first British ball, but it wasn’t that.”
“Thetonis not known for its subtlety. Once word began circulating about who you were, a spark was ignited. And your appearance on that stairwell fanned the flames.” His eyes swept across her, the touch of them on her body hotter than any fire. “How could theynothave noticed you? Especially tonight. You are gorgeous, Joanna.”
So they were back to Joanna again, were they?
With a compliment, besides.
Her lips pressed together. She didn’t want his flattery. She didn’t wantanythingfrom him. Except…except to fill this void inside of her. To make her forget, just for a little while, all the weight pressing against her chest. To ease the ache in her heart.
And there was only one way she knew to do that.
“I am glad you came,” he went on, amber eyes somber behind the clear lenses of his spectacles. “I have something to say to you. Something I should have said two days ago in the park. Joanna—”
“I don’t want your words.” Setting her glass aside with a deliberate click, she rose to her feet and walked closer to him until his legs were covered by her voluminous skirt and she could see the leap of his pulse at the base of his throat.
“Then what do you want?” he asked huskily. But she could tell by the rasp in his voice and the heat in his gaze that he already knew.
That he’dalwaysknown, just like she had, it would come to this.
Her mouth brushed against his, feather soft. She removed his spectacles and set them aside. Then she turned and bent her head forward, exposing the line of buttons keeping her dress closed. A long pause, a flash of orange as one of the logs in the hearth shifted, and then she felts his fingers at the nape of her neck.
One by one, he undid the buttons, knuckles tracing a tantalizing path down her spine to the small of her back. The gown fell to her waist, and she balanced herself on the edge of the sofa as she stepped out of it, then turned to face him.
Watching her, he loosened his cravat and then peeled off his tailcoat, letting it drop carelessly onto the thick rug. His waistcoat was next, and then his linen shirt.
Anticipation brought Joanna to the tips of her toes, her attention fixed to his torso as he bared his bronzed chest to the flickering firelight.
