On a Wild Night (Cynster 8)

She glanced at his face, smiled lightly. "You waltz well, my lord."

"You're an expert, I take it."

"After six years in the ton? Indeed I am."

He hesitated; she couldn't read anything in his changeable green eyes. "You're not, however, an expert in this arena, as Connor rightly stated."

"Connor told me I was out of my depth in gaming with such as he, and in that I agree." She glanced at the dancers surrounding them. "In other respects, I see little here I would feel challenged managing."

When he said nothing, she glanced at his face. He was waiting-he trapped her gaze. "What are you after?"

You. "I told you. I want to live a little-I want to experience entertainments more exciting than can be found within the ton." She met his gaze boldly. "As you agreed, that's no crime."

"No crime, perhaps, but it's dangerous. Especially for such as you."

She glanced about. "A little danger adds spice to the excitement."

Martin couldn't believe the battery of emotions she so effortlessly evoked. "And if the danger is more than just 'a little'?"

She looked back at him; again he glimpsed steel. "If that was the case, then I wouldn't be interested. I've been out for six years-I know where the lines are drawn. I'm not interested in stepping over them."

Again she looked away.

Deliberately, he drew her closer, held her to him as they went through the turns so his thighs parted and brushed hers, so their hips met, slid apart, met again, so her gown shifted, shushing, against his coat, his thighs. He felt the hitch in her breathing, felt the tremor that raced down her spine. She glanced briefly at his face, but remained supple, gloriously light in his arms.

He waited until they were precessing up the long room. "These entertainments you wish to experience. I take it you have some specific event in mind."

"Events."

She said nothing further; he was forced to prompt, "And they are?"

His tone brought her gaze to his face, then, her decision to oblige him clear, she recited, 'To drive-or more correctly to be driven-around Richmond Park by moonlight. To go boating to see the stars reflected in the Thames. To attend Vauxhall in a private party organized by someone my parents don't know. To attend one of the masquerades at Covent Garden."

She fell silent; he tersely inquired, "Nothing else?"

Amanda ignored his tone. "For the present, that's the limit of my ambition."

His lips thinned. "If you're discovered doing any of those things-if it becomes known you have-you'll be-"

"Exclaimed over, dubbed foolish beyond permission, lectured until my ears ache, then closely watched for the duration of the Season." She let her gaze rest on his face, noting the hard, uncompromising lines. "That prospect is hardly likely to sway me. At my age, nothing short of a proven indiscretion is going to harm my standing."

He made a derisive sound. She smiled and let her gaze wander. "If you must know, my list is so short precisely because of society's demands." The waltz concluded; they swirled to a halt. "I have only so many weeks before the Season gets into full swing. Once it does, my calendar will fill with socially obligatory events, and I won't have time to seek excitement."

She stepped back, out of his arms; he let her draw her fingers from his, but slowly. As if, at any moment, he might change his mind and seize them, and her. Freed, she turned, feeling his hand fall from her. Missed its heat. She looked at the gentlemen about them. "I wonder who would be willing to squire me to Richmond."

Eyes narrowing, Martin reached for her hand to yank her back and tell her what he thought of that idea-and that he didn't appreciate being baited-when Agnes Korsinsky, Leopold's sister, materialized before them.

"Dexter, mon cher!"

Agnes launched herself into his arms; he had no choice but to catch her. She planted two noisy kisses, one on each cheek-then for good measure, went back and repeated the greeting.

He gripped her waist and set her away from him. "Agnes." He kept his gaze on her face. She was all but indecently dressed, her voluptuous charms very much on display. That she harbored designs on him, on his title, his wealth and his person, he was well aware; she had for years and was as dangerous as her brother. Amanda was watching, assessing; he said the first thing that came into his head. "You've had an excellent turnout-you must be delighted."

"Ah, them!" Agnes dismissed the crowd with a wave that included Amanda. "They are as nothing compared to you, mon cher. But how

wicked to slip in without paying your respects-I didn't even know you were here."

Precisely. He reached for Amanda an instant before Agnes reached for his arm. "Permit me to introduce… Miss Wallace."