Arabella stumbled, and only narrowly avoided crashing into a large vase at the side of the floor.
He sighed. “If you would only relax and follow my lead, this would not be an ordeal. I’m an exquisite dancer.”
Arabella set her lips. But of course he was. He was light on his feet, his steps deft. What else could one expect from a man as perfect as he?
Again she trod on his foot.
“My God,” he muttered, “what is this perverse compunction you have to see that I never walk again?”
Arabella flushed. She didn’t appreciate the reminder.
The music ended a moment later. Before she had a chance to draw a breath, a man appeared beside them. Fair-haired and ruddy-cheeked, he was nearly as tall and powerfully built as Justin. Arabella watched curiously, for there was a certain arrogance in the way he inclined his chin toward Justin.
“ Sterling ,” he greeted. “Good to see you.”
He spoke with a distinct Scots burr, Arabella noted. Justin acknowledged with a curt nod. “McElroy.”
The man named McElroy transferred his gaze to Arabella. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your dance partner. Perhaps you’ll be so good as to introduce us.”
“Certainly. Miss Templeton, Lord Patrick McElroy. McElroy, Miss Arabella Templeton.”
Oddly, Justin sounded less than pleased.
McElroy gave a bow. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
Arabella smiled and gave a small curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
Behind them, the musicians struck a chord.
McElroy turned to her. “Miss Templeton, may I have this next —”
He never got the chance to finish. “Sorry, old man,” Justin cut in smoothly, “but Miss Templeton has already promised this next set to me.”
Arabella had no choice but to follow when he practically dragged her into the middle of the dance floor.
Still rather stunned, she gaped up at him. “Why did you do that? Maybe I wanted to dance with him.”
“Trust me” — his tone was clipped — “you didn’t.”
Arabella borrowed his phrase of but moments before. “Ah,” she almost purred. “Jealous, are we?”
That he did not deny it with the utmost vehemence stunned her to her very soul. She was still contemplating his lack of dissent when his eyes snared hers.
“Let me put it this way, Arabella. You’re better off with me than with him.”
“I do believe I should be the judge of that.”
He scowled. His lips were almost ominously thin, the set of his jaw stern. Why the devil was he suddenly so out of sorts?
“Where the welfare of innocent young maids is concerned,” he said sharply, “he’s dangerous.”
“What! More so than you?” she asked tartly. The bent of their conversation was altogether shocking. Later she would ask herself how she dared. For now, she did not.
“That is not something you should know.” He put his face close to hers. “You are an innocent young maid, are you not?”
Arabella gasped. “That, sir, is none of your affair!”
He smiled suddenly, his good humor restored. Ah, but at her expense, she feared!
They danced on in silence, until the tune ended.
He bent his head low. “That was much better,” he murmured, his breath brushing her ear. “Why, not once did you trounce upon my foot.”
He led her to the edge of the dance floor, but retained possession of her gloved hand. Reminded of his impertinence last night, Arabella didn’t dare tug it back, as she wanted to. But there was a wicked slant to his smile. It held something she didn’t trust in the least, especially when he raised her hand to his lips.
“Don’t you dare bite me again!” she hissed. “Else I swear I shall bite back.”
Laughing green eyes met hers. “Now, that I should like to see.”
His dark head descended. And indeed, he did not bite. At the very last instant, he turned her hand palm up. A thumb grazed the inside of her wrist, where her glove ended and her skin was bared. And then she felt the warm, wet wash of his tongue trace the very same
He sighed. “If you would only relax and follow my lead, this would not be an ordeal. I’m an exquisite dancer.”
Arabella set her lips. But of course he was. He was light on his feet, his steps deft. What else could one expect from a man as perfect as he?
Again she trod on his foot.
“My God,” he muttered, “what is this perverse compunction you have to see that I never walk again?”
Arabella flushed. She didn’t appreciate the reminder.
The music ended a moment later. Before she had a chance to draw a breath, a man appeared beside them. Fair-haired and ruddy-cheeked, he was nearly as tall and powerfully built as Justin. Arabella watched curiously, for there was a certain arrogance in the way he inclined his chin toward Justin.
“ Sterling ,” he greeted. “Good to see you.”
He spoke with a distinct Scots burr, Arabella noted. Justin acknowledged with a curt nod. “McElroy.”
The man named McElroy transferred his gaze to Arabella. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your dance partner. Perhaps you’ll be so good as to introduce us.”
“Certainly. Miss Templeton, Lord Patrick McElroy. McElroy, Miss Arabella Templeton.”
Oddly, Justin sounded less than pleased.
McElroy gave a bow. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
Arabella smiled and gave a small curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
Behind them, the musicians struck a chord.
McElroy turned to her. “Miss Templeton, may I have this next —”
He never got the chance to finish. “Sorry, old man,” Justin cut in smoothly, “but Miss Templeton has already promised this next set to me.”
Arabella had no choice but to follow when he practically dragged her into the middle of the dance floor.
Still rather stunned, she gaped up at him. “Why did you do that? Maybe I wanted to dance with him.”
“Trust me” — his tone was clipped — “you didn’t.”
Arabella borrowed his phrase of but moments before. “Ah,” she almost purred. “Jealous, are we?”
That he did not deny it with the utmost vehemence stunned her to her very soul. She was still contemplating his lack of dissent when his eyes snared hers.
“Let me put it this way, Arabella. You’re better off with me than with him.”
“I do believe I should be the judge of that.”
He scowled. His lips were almost ominously thin, the set of his jaw stern. Why the devil was he suddenly so out of sorts?
“Where the welfare of innocent young maids is concerned,” he said sharply, “he’s dangerous.”
“What! More so than you?” she asked tartly. The bent of their conversation was altogether shocking. Later she would ask herself how she dared. For now, she did not.
“That is not something you should know.” He put his face close to hers. “You are an innocent young maid, are you not?”
Arabella gasped. “That, sir, is none of your affair!”
He smiled suddenly, his good humor restored. Ah, but at her expense, she feared!
They danced on in silence, until the tune ended.
He bent his head low. “That was much better,” he murmured, his breath brushing her ear. “Why, not once did you trounce upon my foot.”
He led her to the edge of the dance floor, but retained possession of her gloved hand. Reminded of his impertinence last night, Arabella didn’t dare tug it back, as she wanted to. But there was a wicked slant to his smile. It held something she didn’t trust in the least, especially when he raised her hand to his lips.
“Don’t you dare bite me again!” she hissed. “Else I swear I shall bite back.”
Laughing green eyes met hers. “Now, that I should like to see.”
His dark head descended. And indeed, he did not bite. At the very last instant, he turned her hand palm up. A thumb grazed the inside of her wrist, where her glove ended and her skin was bared. And then she felt the warm, wet wash of his tongue trace the very same
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