Read Online A Dangerous Man by Janmarie Anello - Free Book Online Page A

elbow and led her onto the dance floor, his
arm encircling her waist as the first trembling notes of a waltz
filled the air. The sensuous melody seemed to surround her,
seemed to ease her unbearable tension, at least for the
moment, or perhaps it was her awareness of the man holding
her close. One hand pressing low on her spine. His enticing
scent of amber and jasmine conjuring memories better left in
the darkness.
    "You do realize," he said, his deep, rumbling voice wrapping around her. "That you are supposed to flatter me while
we dance. Strictly speaking, it is proper dance floor etiquette."
    His unexpected flirtation brought a startled smile to her
lips, pushing anguished thoughts and painful plans into the
distance, until only this moment remained. "I believe you are
mistaken, sir. It is you who are supposed to flatter me ""
    "Agreed. I shall make an attempt at it. But mind you, I
don't usually do the flattering. I receive it."
    "Oh, I do not doubt that for a moment." Leah glanced
around the ballroom. She could feel the burning jealousy of
the women staring with unabashed longing at her husband. "I
am the envy of all the girls around me ""
    His lips curved into a smile, infused with the same boyish
charm she remembered from when she had foolishly con fronted him in this very house a mere two days ago. Now she
was his wife!

    He was playacting, of course, for the benefit of those
around them. Still, his teasing bantering felt strange, somehow comfortable, as if they could have been friends had they
met under different circumstances.
    "Should I compliment the cut of your coat?" She fluttered
her lashes, dropped her voice to what she hoped was an enticing whisper, though she strongly suspected her strangled
laughter ruined the effect. It was shockingly bold, and so contrary to her usual reserve, but it felt so fun, as if she were a
carefree girl again, back before her sister went missing and
her father betrayed her. "Or the fall of your neck cloth? Or the
decidedly wicked way your raven hair curls rakishly over your
brow?"
    He laughed, and her heart raced ahead of her breathing,
beating in tune to the spiraling dance. Words were lost, her
thoughts drifting away, all of her senses centered on her overwhelming attraction to this man, his pleasing scent, his much
larger hand wrapped around hers, the heat rising from his skin
and his devilish grin that rendered her spellbound.
    Until the music finally ended.
    He held her a moment longer, as if he were reluctant to release her. Then he stepped back and offered his arm.
    "You did not do your duty, sir," Leah tried to tease.
    One brow arched up. "How so?"
    "You did not pay justice to my vanity."
    "I will attend to your vanity later," he promised as he raised
her gloved hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. "When
you grant me leave to kiss you again."
    The sensual promise of his words sent a searing heat though
her veins. Unable to breathe, the tension too much to bear,
Leah forced her gaze off to his left, only to notice a woman
draped in shimmering primrose silk slinking toward them.
    "There you are, St. Austin," the woman murmured in a breathless whisper, running her fan down his arm. She angled
her chin toward her shoulder so that her autumn red hair
swept sensuously over her brow. A seductive pout curved her
rouge-stained lips. "Are you not going to introduce me to
your wife?"

    Where moments before there had been teasing and laughter, now his jaw grew tight, his features hardening before
Leah's eyes until his face was completely devoid of emotion.
    This was the cold, arrogant duke who wrapped his hand
around Leah's elbow and hauled her to his side. A moment
passed as if he were considering the notion, then he made the
introductions, choosing his words with exquisite civility to indicate Leah was the one bestowing her honor by deigning to
notice Lady Margaret Montague, a woman of inferior rank.
Leah would have found the stiff