Looking every inch the proud papa—although not divulging a word about their relationship—Burke escorted Jessica and Riley around the room, introducing them as rival mine owners to the kind of rich, high-powered men Jess had always despised. There were several capitalists from Denver who had ridden the train up for the occasion with their wives, a railroad magnate from Kansas City, a silver baron from neighboring Leadville, a state senator, and two mayors.
Jess was listening politely to one of the Denver capitalists and looking surreptitiously around for Devlin when she finally saw him. Her heart took on a suddenly erratic rhythm, while her breath ebbed away. He looked positively magnificent in a black cutaway evening coat and white silk bow tie that subtly declared his wealth and authority.
He had one shoulder propped negligently against a wall, and had hooked a thumb in the pocket of his white, single-breasted waistcoat. A half dozen ladies had gathered around him, obviously vying for his attention. And no wonder, Jess thought with a surge of bitter jealousy. Devlin exuded raw masculinity and power, an aura as potent and alluring as catnip to a cat.
He was watching her, Jess realized with sudden surprise. When she met his eyes, though, he deliberately dropped his gaze, moving it slowly over her, down the expanse of emerald silk and lifting again to fasten on the low neckline of her gown. His intense scrutiny made her feel as if he were caressing her naked breasts.
Jess felt the color rise to her cheeks. Her nipples had tightened in direct response to his perusal, while a flare of heat had suddenly gathered between her thighs.
As if he knew precisely the effect he was having on her, Devlin smiled. Not the charming, seductive grin he had perfected to an art. This one was cool, aloof, and more than a little arrogant. When she stared, he inclined his head at her briefly, almost insolently, in recognition. Jess's heart sank. Devlin didn't look at all as if he were in love with her. In fact, he looked downright disinterested. She heard the Denver capitalist say something to her, but she could no more have responded than she could have moved one of the Rocky Mountains.
The next half hour was pure torture for Jess; she was nervous, restless, anxious, and scared. When a waiter proffered a tray loaded with glasses of champagne, she accepted one and drained it more quickly than was wise. The fizzing wine gave her false courage and filled her with the desire to do something wild and reckless. By the time Ashton Burke found her again, she had regained a measure of bravado.
"I should be honored if you would help open the dancing. Oh, not with me," Burke said with a smile when she started to take his arm. "I fear etiquette demands I partner the plump Mrs. Greely. I have someone else in mind for you."
He took her elbow and lead her straight to the crowd gathered around Devlin. Jess almost balked when she realized what Burke intended, but her pride kept her from pulling away. That and the knowledge that if she and Devlin were going to have a reconciliation, it would be up to her.
His unsmiling features gave her no encouragement as he stared coolly down at her.
"Mr. Devlin, my I present a lovely partner for the waltz?" Burke asked.
She thought for a minute that he might refuse, but instead Devlin inclined his head. "It would be my pleasure."
Burke left them alone then, and an awkward silence descended between them. When Devlin politely offered his arm to lead her out onto the floor. Jess nervously took it. She felt a muscle jump beneath her touch, which heartened her a bit; maybe Devlin wasn't as unaffected by her as he pretended.
Other couples began gathering around them in preparation for the dance, but Jess scarcely noticed as they stood waiting for the music to begin. She was only aware of the stunningly handsome man beside her who was treating her like a stranger.
Gazing up into wood-smoke gray eyes, she falteringly began her rehearsed speech. "Riley says that maybe . . . that he thinks . . . I may have judged you too harshly."
"Indeed?"
His tone was curt, cool, unforgiving. She swallowed. Devlin wasn't making this the least bit easy for her. "He also said . . . I should talk to you about it."
Devlin's penetrating gaze stabbed her. "Is this an apology?"
"No. Yes . . . I mean . . . I just wanted you to know . . . if you have anything to say about what happened, I'll listen."
He pressed his lips together in a tight line. "That's very generous of you, Miss Jess, but I have nothing to say."
The orchestra struck up the chords of a waltz, but neither she nor Devlin moved.
"You aren't going to tell me why you were kissing her?" Jess asked in a trembling voice.
"That depends." He eyed her coolly. "If you've already made up your mind about me, there's no point in discussing it."
"No . . . I haven't made up my mind."
There was a long moment of silence while Devlin seemed to deliberate her answer. His gray eyes were shadowed with emotion, but it wasn't anger she saw in them now. Oddly, it was vulnerability and a certain wariness.
Suddenly he grasped her hand and turned on his heel, pulling a startled Jess behind him.
Ignoring the curious looks of the guests and servants alike, he led her through the whirling dancers, off the crowded floor, out of the room, and along the hall. Finally he pushed her into a large, dimly lit chamber that looked like a library.
Trying to catch her breath, Jess turned in time to see Devlin rotating the key in the lock. Facing her, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the door.
Devlin's stance was more an effort at control than belligerence, though. The fear running through him was palpable. The interminable weeks of frustration and uncertainty while he'd waited for Jess to make up her mind about him had culminated in this single moment, when his future, his entire chance at happiness, would likely be decided.
Yet nearly as strong as fear was desire. After weeks of denial, the mere sight of Jess had made his blood hot. That gown she was wearing showed a provocative amount of her splendid figure. Her naked, scented shoulders, the hint of luxurious cleavage, the knowledge that the layers of skirts hid a pair of long silken legs, all were driving him crazy. He'd grown hard just watching her.