Alex took a breath and called a maid to wipe a handprint from a window and then ventured out across the floor to the patroness. She tried to avoid the waltzing couples and stay off the dance floor, but it enveloped almost the entire room at that point. Soon she was weaving between twirling bodies and gliding feet. She’d made it only halfway across when suddenly someone grabbed her arm and swung her forcefully around. Before she knew it, she was crushed against a chest, impaled by a masculine smell and looking into intense, gold-ringed eyes. It was Philippe, it was him, sprung to life right on the dance floor.
When had he gotten there? What had happened to bring him back to her? Though she had made the decision not to spend the night wondering about him, as she looked at his face, into his eyes, she felt the tension in her chest, her stomach, her heart, surrendering in the most wonderful way.
He towered over her, and she was reminded how small she was in comparison. They stood there posed for the dance, but not moving to the music. He held her one hand in his, with his other arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned so far into her that she had to arch her back over his arm.
“I feared I wouldn’t find you,” he said, his voice deep and gravely and filled with magic she couldn’t quite comprehend. He continued to search her eyes. “I thought I would have to travel all of creation to get to you.”
Alex was so awestruck she couldn’t speak at first, but words finally came to her mouth, “I did not think you would come back.”
“Haven’t you learned to trust me yet, little fox?” He grinned, then twirled her around and brought her back. She landed against his chest again, feeling her breath caught in her own. She was in his arms. She couldn’t believe it was happening, but she was in his embrace once more.
The dance continued, and she could do little more than stare at him. His face was clean-shaven, his hair swept back and his eyes—all of it, all of him caused extra beats in her heart. But then she noticed that his eyebrowwas split, an angry scrape ran up his jawline and across his ear, and his bottom lip was swollen under the scar she had given him long ago. She blinked, guilt rushing her. She realized that she knew nothing of the status of their objectives. One thing was clear: while she’d been enjoying herself here, he had been at war. And she’d spent all this time doubting his word. Repentantly, and in a movement of complete scandal, she stretched up and, very gently, kissed his scar.
She didn’t know it was possible, but he crushed her even closer to his body, until she had trouble taking full breaths. She laughed his name as she saw his eyes heat even more.
“I can’t breathe,” she sputtered.
“Neither can I,” he replied.
That’s when she realized the song had ended. People around them were clapping. Suddenly, there was a man next to them.
“Excuse me,Monsieur, may you have the next dance with my daughter?”
Alex looked at the man who had a pretty young thing standing next to him, the reality of the evening interrupting her fantasy. Philippe stammered for a moment then looked back at her. Alex backed out of his grasp. She knew he could not deny such a request. Before she could depart, Philippe grabbed her wrist desperately and whispered, “Don’t drink too much.” He grinned and winked at her as he was dragged away.
Alex smiled, still dreamy and hazy at his sudden appearance. Turning from the dance floor, she saw Emily waving her over. Alex floated to her, the smile unshaken from her face.
“You see! You had nothing to worry about.” Emily beamed when Alex reached her.
Alex just grinned. Out on the floor, Philippe danced with the girl, but kept looking back to Alex, his eyes filled with distress. He stumbled, not paying attention to the dance. He caught the girl, whom he had almost knocked over, then looked back pensively to Alex.
She brought her hands up to her lips in a mirthful laugh.
“You know,” said Emily, “It will be a busy night for him. As the unmarried son of the Duke, he will be expected to dance with every unattached maid here.”
“What does it matter,” Alex muttered, staring at the man. “I’ve lived through worse.”
Emily coughed delicately and cleared her throat. “You should find another partner to dance with,” she said. “Or you shall be tormented this whole evening.”
“I will be fine,” Alex said, still smiling.
When Emily had said Philippe would be expected to dance with every unattached female in the room, Alex hadn’t expected that there would be so many. She thought maybe nine, ten, but it seemed like this whole stupid region was made up of girls without suitors. Did they come from their mother’s belly in full bloom ready to attack the son of a duke?
Alex’s revere quickly faded as she realized she would have no more time with Philippe that evening. What a terrible joke this was. She had spent mere seconds in his arms and then had to give him up, once again. She took a few dances from the brave men who would approach her but could feel how it agitated Philippe. Even through his own dances, she saw in his brows the same frustration she felt in her own expression.
After seeing him be drawn into yet another dance, she realized it was pointless to stay there and watch him. It was upsetting her and unnerving him. Emily’s trained staff had settled in, and the party was running quite smoothly. Alex decided that she had done her duty. She was done for the night.
She regarded one of the footmen on her way out. “When Lord Philippe is free, please tell him that I have retired for the evening but should be happy to receive him in the morning, if he so wishes.”
“Yes,Mademoiselle,” he nodded.
Trying not to draw attention to herself, she slipped out one of the side doors. Free from the ballroom, she moved through the parlor and out into the courtyard. Once outside, she lifted her skirts off the ground and ran across the lawn to the guest housing. She could still hear the strings play with rumbles of conversation and laughter tumbling out into the night. Alex entered the back door to the guest rooms and was happy to find that the hall was empty and silent. She walked past a few closed doors and entered her own quarters.
It was frustrating, that was sure. She’d try to deny it, but she had been so tortured this week, wondering if he would be there or not. Then, fate of fates, he had shown up and she could not have any contact with him. And, oh, the lovely women he danced with. Surely, he would find one he wanted more than her. She flung her shoes onto the floor, then remembered she shouldn’t be so crass with Emily’s things and instead arranged them at the foot of the sitting chair. Emily had been so accommodating, she felt a little bad for leaving the party early, but she was no longer needed and couldn’t stand to wait around for him another minute.
She turned to the mirror where just a few hours before she had been primped and arranged. She let her hair down and it fell over her shoulders and past her breasts. She combed through it with her fingers and gathered it to the side. Then she began the task of unlacing the back of her dress. She watched herself in the mirror as her undergarments came into view. When she had seen Philippe, she was too taken by emotion to think out the night. She hoped to pick up right where they had left off, with his hands on her body and lips against her own, a panic that she would lose him again forcing her to seek the easiest connection. Something that could make him a permanent part of her, long after their time together had ended.
But he had obligations, she knew, and many, many options. Her dress dropped to the ground. She picked it up and laid it over the back of a chair. She put her hands on her hips and looked at herself in the mirror. She wore a black chemise over short, fitted bloomers, both of which were sheer and soft against forbidden skin. Her breasts pressed against the silk, and she wished he could have seen her like this, so pretty and feminine for once. She did not know how to inspire a more long-lasting connection to him. But she did know their bodies could come together like magic. She groaned, feeling like it was never going to happen.
