She shifted her fingers in his grip. The hand in his captured his attention; dainty, but strong, with long, slender fingers; the hand of a keyboard player.
What would it be like to have those lovely hands caress my body?
Christopher shook himself. What's wrong with you? This is no time for lewd
speculations. Forcing his mind into safer territory, he savored his dance with his unexpected companion.
The music ground to a halt with a long trill on the out-of-tune violin.
Katerina winced.
“Thank you, my dear, for dancing with me,” he said as he took her arm in his
and led her back to his mother. “May I claim another, later this evening?”
She looked at him, startled.
“Oh, is your card full?” he asked.
“Heavens, no,” she replied, as though the answer were obvious. “Don't you
think you've fulfilled your duty to your mother?”
“Yes,” he agreed easily. “She asked me to meet you. I did. Wanting to dance
with you again has nothing to do with her.”
Katerina blinked. “Are you… joking?”
“Not at all,” he assured her. “Will you consider it, Miss Valentino?”
“I will,” she replied.
“Consider it?” he pressed.
“Dance with you.” Her cheeks flamed, but she met his eyes steadily.
He smiled at her. “By any chance, do you have the supper dance free?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, if that's what you want.”
“It is,” he said, allowing a hint of intensity to filter into his voice. “Shall we
plan on it?”
“Yes.” Her smile turned shy and she looked away.
He accepted the retreat with easy confidence. She doesn't trust me yet, but I'll show her she can. “All right then, here's my mother, and I shall be back to claim you later.” He kissed her hand again and headed out of the room.
The crowd thinned in the hallway, dropping the temperature significantly.
Christopher sighed in relief. His eveningwear felt uncomfortably hot, and his sudden arousal further intensified the sweaty closeness.
“Blast,” he muttered. The last thing he wanted was to be struck by a mad attraction. On the other hand, not exploring this feeling would be much more foolish. Miss Valentino is delightful, and I want to know her. I will know her.
There really is no help for it.
CHAPTER 4
“G ood Lord, Bennett,” Cary mocked as he opened the door and
admitted Christopher into the familiar parlor. “Late again? For your
next birthday, I'm buying you a pocket watch.” This time he offered
a glass of hot, spiced wine, perfect for a chilly evening.
“Sorry, Cary. I've been busy lately,” Christopher replied, cradling the warm
beverage in his icy hands as he took his customary seat on the sofa. He had lost
his gloves somewhere and was freezing. “Father and I are making several
improvements to the machines at the cotton mill. We don’t dare risk another injury to one of our workers. Thank the Lord Mr. Smythe recovered quickly.”
Cary nodded.
