He set the glass on the edge of the desk and folded his arms in front of him, his dark brows lowered. “A question for me?” He sounded startled. Did no one seek out his company?
“Yes, I hope you don’t think me too forward.”
His sensual mouth curved faintly; all the air lodged in her throat. He was breathtakingly handsome when he smiled. “Well, you haven’t asked yet.”
“Right, of course.” Her hands fluttered in front of her and she pressed her palm against her chest. “I wanted to make sure I didn’t—offend you earlier when my brother introduced us. I’m afraid I might’ve been too blatant in my attempts to get to know you.”
“You didn’t offend.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She took another step closer, then another. Until she stood directly before where he leaned against the desk, his thick arms still crossed in front of his chest, a curious glint lighting his chocolate-colored eyes. It was far too tempting having him close enough to touch. “It’s just that you left so quickly, I thought I might’ve done something to make you flee.”
“It wasn’t you, Lady Pomeroy,” he confessed with a slight shake of his head. “Trust me.”
“Please, call me Daphne.” Unable to stop herself, she reached out, rested her fingers on his forearm for a fleeting moment. The fine material beneath her grip covered warm, firm skin and she dropped her hand. Sadly.
His gaze fell to where she’d touched him so briefly then lifted to meet her eyes. “What are you about, Lady…I mean…Daphne.”
Oh, to have that deep voice say her name brought forth a flood of pleasurable sensations. All of them completely unfamiliar and making her want to experience them again. “My subtle hint was too subtle, I’m afraid.” She stood straight and watched with delight as his gaze fell to her chest, where he studied her appreciatively. Her skin tingled and she marveled at the sensations his blatant gaze brought forth.
“Your hint?” He cocked a brow, a rather rakish and surprising move since she didn’t consider him particularly rakish.
Until now.
“I wanted you to ask me to dance
.” There. She’d found the courage and said it.
If he turned her down, she would be devastated. And feel like a complete fool.
“Dance?” He said the word as if it were foreign to him. “I’m not one to dance, my lady.”
“You danced with me at the masquerade ball,” she said softly.
His lips thinned and his expression grew pained. “That was a—most unusual circumstance.”
“You danced divinely.”
He shrugged, as if he didn’t know what to say.
“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you? I pray I’m not making you uncomfortable.”
“Not uncomfortable,” he admitted. “Surprised, yes.”
“So why do you come to such gatherings if they make you so ill at ease?”
He eyed her carefully. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“My apologies.” Heat suffused her cheeks and she glanced down, feeling silly. She’d pushed too hard. But there was something about this particular man that provoked her.
“No need to apologize.”
She lifted her head and studied him. Saw that he studied her with equal intent. Her heart lifted, fluttered wildly in anticipation of what might happen next.
“I-I’m not quite sure what came over me that evening when I agreed to waltz with you. As I said, I’m not one to dance much.”
Her cheeks warmed even more and she smiled. “I’m flattered that you chose me for such a rare appearance on the ballroom floor, then. You’re a very fine dancer, my lord.”
“Thank you, so were—wait, what are you doing?”