Earl of Sussex (Wicked Lords of London 0.50)

“Hardly.” She kept her eyes from rolling toward the heavens. “I hate them.”

“Me too,” he confessed with a wink.

He didn’t mean that. They seemed like an affair a rake would want to participate in.

“You’re lying.”

“I’ve told you already. I avoid ladies of a marriageable age like the plague. Besides, I prefer more quiet, intimate activities.” His lips brushed against hers then. It was scandalous. The tingling concentrated in the pit of her stomach, the juncture between her legs aching.

“But let’s go make an appearance on the dance floor, shall we? This soiree is for us, after all. People will start to wonder.”

“Perhaps they will wonder about you,” her voice was breathier than she’d intended. “People rarely miss me.”

He gave her a grin. “Fools.” His grin spread. “But their loss is my gain.” And then he was pulling her back toward the throng of dancers.

She hissed as his hand came to her waist. “You can’t do this.”

“Oh, I can.” He winked. “I’ll fill in your dance card after.”

“You’ve got your arm around me as though we’re already—” Her voice was breathy as they entered the throng of dancers and he pulled her into his arms.

“You’ll have to get used it.” He gave her a devilish grin. “I don’t stand on ceremony.”

One of her eyebrows lifted. That was the problem, now wasn’t it? “I am aware that you like to flaunt the rules.”

Spinning her around, he leaned far closer than was decent. “Still worried about my fidelity.”

“What lady in my position would not be?”

“I have not married because I didn’t want a monogamous relationship. I believe in the sanctity of marriage. It is a bedrock of our society. But once I do marry, I will not break my oath.”

She bit her lip. What she hadn’t realized in her prior meetings with Luke was how very intelligent he was. He was correct in that there was much she didn’t know about him. And while some tiny voice cried that she was going to get hurt, a much louder one was thrilled by the prospect of deepening her relationship with this handsome, intelligent man who was saying everything she needed to hear.

Though she certainly wasn’t ready to commit to marriage. He was still a rake and she would do well to remember that fact. It was just that he muddled her thoughts so and made her want to believe him. It was so dangerous.

As the dance ended, he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and then walked her back to her mother’s side. Her mother looked livid, and Tabbie knew she would be in a great deal of trouble for all the time she’d spent not attending the ball.

Luke made a show of filling a second spot on her dance card and then attempted to write his name on a third. She yanked the card away, then realized how unladylike her own behavior was. What a pair they made. If they were a pair, which they most decidedly were not.

He gestured to some chairs nearby. “I know how winded you are, my lady. If you’d like to sit this next dance out, I will be happy to attend you.”

She bit back a smile and nodded her head. She was not at all winded but he was claiming another dance for himself in his own fashion.

As they moved toward the chairs, she mumbled, “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Not a chance.” He grinned back.

She warmed at his words because having him look upon her like this was like the sun shining down on her after a long cold winter. How long until winter returned?

He was discreet, at least. He kept his touches light and not easily seen. Every subtle brush made her skin catch on fire anew. She couldn’t stand much more. She’d forget her resolve and throw herself into his arms.

Standing, Tabbie tried to come up with an excuse, any reason to join her mother and stand by the wall. Her emotions were a jumble, this evening having been more eventful than she could have imagined.

But he stood too. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Her mouth opened as she searched for words.

“There you are, my lady.” Lord Crummell approached from her left. “We don’t want to miss our set.” He held out his arm to her.