Page 13 of Dangerous

The figure split just then. Mia shot him a dangerous glare, aware he’d timed his words to coincide with the long break.

His eyes were hooded when they next approached to interlace. He leaned toward her and spoke one soft word: “Proper.”

Mia’s laughter drew startled glances from those around them and a mocking look from her partner. She could almost forgive him for his wretched comment at dinner. Almost.

By the end of the set she was more than a little heated, both by the dance and his proximity.

“May I fetch you a glass of champagne?” he asked, leading her toward a small sofa near the French doors.

“That would be lovely.”

She watched his fine shoulders cleave a path through the milling guests while she fanned her heated face. Mia had spent a good deal of time reading other people’s faces. The harem had been more dangerous than shark-infested waters and her survival, and that of her son, had often depended on her ability to see beneath the surface. Tonight, her skills were failing her. The marquess was entirely unreadable—something she found both intriguing and arousing. Was the man looking for a wife, or wasn’t he?

“Mia!” a voice hissed behind her, making her jump. She turned to find her brother, partly hidden by a giant potted palm.

“What the devil are you doing back there, Cian?”

His eyes fixed on something over her shoulder. “Hurry, Mia, before he returns.” He held out his hand, as if she might take it and leap over the settee. “Come away with me now.”

Mia scowled. “Cian—”

“Hurry, he is coming back.”

Mia turned her back on his foolishness. The marquess was walking toward her with two glasses. She raised her fan to her face. “You should leave now, Cian.”

“I am trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. Now, please go.”

The palm fronds rustled. “Mia, dammit.”

Exley stopped in front of her and held out a glass of champagne.

Mia lowered her fan and took the glass. “Thank you, my lord.”

“My pleasure.” He cast a lazy glance over her shoulder. “Are you comfortable behind the sofa, wedged beside that plant, Abermarle, or would you like to sit on the settee? Perhaps between me and your sister?”

Mia choked back a laugh.

Rustling and scraping noises emanated from behind her as Cian struggled free of the foliage and came around the side of the sofa.

The marquess held out his glass. “I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us. Please, take mine.”

Cian flinched away, as if the other man had offered him poison. He glared down at her. “Mia—”

Mia smiled at the marquess. “Please, have a seat, Lord Exley.” She motioned to the space beside her. “My brother came to claim this dance but I assured him I could not move another step until the next set. He was just leaving.”

Cian shot the marquess a dark look before pivoting on his heel and marching off.

Exley sat and the two of them watched Cian depart, his shoulders stiff with disapproval.

“Your brother is merely trying to protect you.”

“Yes, he seems to believe you are very dangerous. He is not the only one.” Mia nodded to the empty space around them. “Perhaps you could tell me why everyone is so terrified of you, my lord?”

“It is hardly a conversation for polite company.”

She glared at him and tsked loudly.