A Wicked Wager (Avenging Lords 2)

A smile touched her lips. “What would you have us do?”

She could sing her sweet songs while he accompanied her on the piano. He could kiss her again, try not to hurt her this time. But they were in a ballroom, and she could not dance, and he needed to do something to distract him from thoughts of ravishing her body.

“I shall teach you to waltz.”

She shook her head. “But I don’t want to learn. I lack coordination and the elegance required to master the dance.”

“Say what you mean. You’re scared I will step on your feet and break your tiny toes.”

Juliet arched a censorious brow. “If I meant that I would have said so. I’m scared I shall embarrass myself when I have an overwhelming desire to impress my husband.”

The surrounding air was suddenly charged with a vibrant energy.

No woman had ever cared for his good opinion. And yet here stood a lady willing to trust him, willing to bare her heart despite the possibility of rejection. She could not possibly impress him more than she had already.

Devlin could not help but cup her cheek. Her skin was as soft as silk, warm to the touch. “You impress me every day just by being yourself. I know no one with a sweeter voice, no one who can command a beast with the mere click of her fingers.”

Water welled in her eyes though she was smiling. “I fear I must correct you. That dog doesn’t listen to a word I say.”

“I wasn’t speaking of Rufus.” His rich tone carried the essence of his desire for her. “Is it that you believe we will look clumsy together?”

She gave a coy shrug. “It’s not that we might look odd, but more that it might be difficult for me to look into your eyes as we move about the floor.”

“Because I am too tall?”

“Because I am too short.”

His hand slipped from her cheek. He glanced over her shoulder to the full-length looking glass on the far wall. He had to admit, that even with a foot and a half difference, they did not look as odd as one might think.

“I have a perfect solution for our first dance,” Devlin said with affection, losing all trace of his gruff countenance when in the company of his wife.

Juliet’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“Before one can master the steps, it

helps if one gets a sense of the rhythm.”

“Are you going to play?”

“No. For it will be impossible to stare into each other’s eyes when we’re so far apart.” Devlin slid his arm around her back and without warning lifted her until they were eye level. “There. You may be more than a foot off the floor, but at least you won’t have a crick in your neck.”

A chuckle escaped her lips. It was the most enchanting sound he’d ever heard. But then she did something that stole his breath, something that robbed him of all rational thought.

Juliet placed her hand on his cheek, pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss and said, “You are very kind to me, and for that, I will always be grateful.”

God damn, he’d never been called kind in his life. “You make being kind easy.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she looked … she looked happy. “Then dance with me, Mr Drake. Let us pretend I am not as hopeless at dancing as I am at training dogs.”

“It would be my pleasure, Mrs Drake, though I do wish you would call me Devlin.”

Devlin instructed her how to hold his hand, to place her other hand lightly on his shoulder. Once he was certain he wasn’t squeezing all the air from her lungs, he set about the floor, twirling and gliding to a hummed melody.

Not once did she tear her gaze from his. The feel of her breath breezing across his cheek sent the blood racing in a southerly direction to pool in his cock. He throbbed and ached with the need to claim this bewitching enchantress. Everything about her enticed him, her carefree manner, her lighthearted laughter.

Feeling the urge to excite her further, Devlin swung her around so quickly her head lolled back. Springy red ringlets flew free from their pins. She gripped his hand, burst into fits of laughter.

“I’m slipping,” she said with a beaming grin.