He tensed as the room fell silent. Even the musicians had put down their instruments as everyone turned to stare at the door.
Rosie had entered the ballroom.
Standing at the top of the steps, she was framed in light. Her presence coursed through him like a lightning bolt. She was dressed in an exquisite gown of soft, clear blue. The colour was a perfect foil for her glorious red-gold hair. She looked quite astonishingly beautiful. The impact was so staggering it was as if he were seeing her for the very first time. The gown was slim-fitting, and subtly styled with a modest neckline. Beautifully beaded in the same colour as the dress, the fabric sparkled discreetly as she moved. It drew his attention from the loveliness of her face to the perfection of her womanly form. She was the only woman in the room, as far as he was concerned, and his senses soared as she glanced around. Looking for him, he hoped.
Her chin lifted when she saw him and a faint smile touched her lips. The connection between them was immediate, and obvious to everyone else. He didn’t care about anyone else, and watched entranced as she walked down the stairs towards him. She’d left her hair loose, the way he liked it, and she was so surprisingly elegant, and yet so painfully vulnerable. He wanted to shield her from all the hungry eyes, but sensed that this walk through the lines of the great and good was something Rosie wanted to do on her own.
Her beauty transfixed every man in the room. His hackles rose as they stared at her. But it was more than Rosie’s physical perfection that held him. She was luminous. She had an inner serenity that no other woman could match. She might have been a lost soul from the orphanage when she had first arrived on Isla Del Rey, but Rosie Clifton had found herself tonight, and she was magnificent.
The conductor lifted his baton when she reached the middle of the dance floor, and struck up an elegant Viennese waltz. Some alchemy dictated that Rosie didn’t walk towards him, but appeared to float in time to the music as the crowd fell back to let her pass. A collective sigh went up when she reached his side. All thoughts of crude gossip were instantly forgotten. She had silenced the chatterers with nothing more than her poise and innocent appeal.
‘Good evening, Xavier.’
‘Margaret’s done a good job,’ he replied dryly, and with maximum understatement.
‘I did have some say in it,’ she reprimanded him with the hint of a smile.
His groin tightened as she continued to stare levelly into his eyes. ‘I’m sure you did,’ he agreed, ‘and I have to say, you look very beautiful.’
‘Do I?’ She seemed stunned by his comment.
‘Of course you do,’ he confirmed, as if this were obvious. ‘You’re easily the most beautiful woman in the room.’
His senses were in overload. He was in an agony of lust, but something more was happening to him. For all that he boasted of having no feelings, he felt something now, and it was a feeling far more powerful than lust; a feeling that made him want to lead her out of here to somewhere private and quiet. Everything about her: the scent she was wearing, her warmth, her gaze on his face, and her body within inches of his; he could only think she had bewitched him. Remaining cool and detached, as he had intended, was no longer a certainty. His body was like that of a youth with no control.
‘I was hoping you’d approve,’ she said.
He could see the vulnerability in her eyes. She was so bold, and yet so fragile. Physically, she was small and soft and desirable, and he would have to be made of stone not to want her. ‘Do you approve?’ he murmured. ‘I mean, your engagement ball,’ he explained, glancing around. He suddenly realised that her answer really mattered to him.
‘It’s such a beautiful evening. I only hope I don’t spoil it for you.’
‘I shall have to keep you close all night, to make sure you don’t,’ he said.
The intimacy between them grew rapidly after that. It was almost as if they were enclosed in a private bubble that excluded all his guests, leaving them on the outside looking in. Rosie laughed and relaxed as he drew her into his arms for the first dance. He would have liked that moment, that very first moment of contact between them, to last for the rest of the night. Her skin felt so warm and soft beneath his touch, and when she closed her hand around his, the desire to protect her overwhelmed him. All thoughts of bargains between them vanished instantly. He was seriously interested in this woman. He wanted her like no other. Judging by the hectic rise and fall of her breasts, she wanted him too. It didn’t take long for his thoughts to stray onto the dark side as he contemplated all that innocence aching for his experience to lead the way. It was a feeling that would remain with him for the rest of the night.
His guests applauded politely as he led Rosie in the dance. They were eager to catch their first glimpse of the innocent young housekeeper in the arms of the Spanish Grandee, and had formed a tight circle around them. If they knew Rosie had proposed to him, they wouldn’t believe it. That was enough to make him smile. There was the added satisfaction of feeling Rosie tremble when he placed his hand in the small of her back. By the end of the night, his guests would be saying theirs was a love-match. He laughed inwardly at the thought, and almost wished it were true.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MARGARET SMILED ENCOURAGEMENT as Rosie danced with Xavier. If being this close to him hadn’t reminded Rosie so vividly of her loss of control at the cocktail party, she might have relaxed, and enjoyed being in his arms. As it was, she felt overwhelmed by what she’d done, and deeply worried for the future of her waning control. Just being this close to him, dancing with him, being in his arms, was enough to cloud her judgement. Being married to him was no guarantee she could handle him. Xavier was so much more experienced than she was. And yet she felt he was right for her in every way. Or was that just this romantic setting and her romantic nature combining? The expression in his eyes was warmer than she’d ever seen it, but—
‘Relax,’ he said, sensing her tension.
She must relax. She had to hide her feelings. Keeping them under wraps was what had always kept her safe. Xavier was super-intuitive. She had to remember that at all times.
One dance led to another, and then the ambassador cut in. Xavier yielded to the older man gracefully, but when a young royal prince tried to do the same he wasn’t so accommodating. Seeing how tense he’d become, she politely declined the prince, pleading tiredness as she allowed Xavier to lead her away.
‘You have a very beautiful home,’ she said as he escorted her outside. ‘You have great taste.’
‘My decorators have great taste,’ he corrected her.
‘The floral displays are exquisite.’
‘I’m glad you like them,’ he said with a smile that suggested he’d softened a little.
She thought he’d probably guessed that she was trying to distract herself from the purpose of the ball. ‘Roses are my favourite flowers...’
She wasn’t sure he heard her as he led her through the French doors and onto the veranda overlooking the exquisite formal gardens. ‘I can only imagine growing up in a place like this.’ Resting her forearms on the marble balustrade, she leaned over to glance around.