What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)

An unimpressed look crossed her face. “I’m sure every untrustworthy person in the world says that.”

Good Lord, she was sweet. “Where does that leave us?”

“With plans to return to the ballroom?”

“Are you deserting me?”

Another faint smile. He had a delicious sense that she tested her power. “Yes.”

He fleetingly wondered whether perhaps he’d dipped too deeply into the punch. But when her smile widened and his heart lurched like a drunken sailor, he recognized that this intoxication reached far beyond lowly alcohol’s power. “Cruel beauty.”

“How can I be cruel when you’ve been so very kind?”

He groaned. “That makes me sound like an aged uncle.”

This time when she tried to withdraw, he let her. “Nevertheless, it’s true.”

“Will you save me a dance?”

Her poise revived with every second. “My card is full.”

“What about tomorrow night?”

“We mightn’t be at the same party.”

It was his turn to smile. “Oh, that we will, my mysterious miss.”

The moonlight was bright enough to reveal the flash of unhappiness that crossed her face. “There’s no point flirting with me.”

“There’s every point.”

She shook her head and he wished he believed that she teased him. “I’m spoken for.”

Spoken for? “You’re not married?”

Thick sheets of lead coated the heart that had been lighter than air. Something had happened to him tonight in this garden, something momentous.

“Not yet.”

Not yet? What the hell did that mean?

Before he could question her, she turned and hared off through an opening in the hedge that he’d missed. And bugger it, he still didn’t know her name.

Something in him insisted that she’d seen him as clearly as he’d seen her. That she’d felt the immediate connection. Stronger than attraction. Affinity, and an odd recognition, as though their encounter was preordained.

He sighed and sank onto the seat. Could a man’s world change in an instant?

When Harry rejoined the party, he immediately located the girl. He’d wondered whether to blame the moonlight for his enchantment. Now that he saw her clearly, she still took his breath away. Candlelight revealed details that he’d missed. The precise shade of her gold hair. The creamy skin. The pink flush on her cheeks.

A pink flush that heightened when she cast one nervous glance to where he stood near the doors.

Satisfaction that she’d sought him out flooded him. His eyes followed her as she twirled around the room, graceful as a flying bird in her white dress. She was dancing with the Marquess of Leath. Could his rival be James Fairbrother? The man was filthy rich and from a powerful family.

Across the crowded room, Lady Vera scowled at him as if she’d like to skin him alive. He shrugged and sent her a regretful smile. How could he explain that after a chance meeting, he was no longer the same man?

“Who is that pretty girl with Leath?” he asked with studied nonchalance when his friend Beswick sidled up.

Beswick took a few moments to locate her. The man must be blind. She outshone every woman here the way the sun outshone the moon. “The blonde?”