arm into the crook of his elbow, the lace of her glove sliding over
the fine wool of his sleeve. She kept her touch light and polite, but she couldn’t
help but feel his heat through the expensive cloth. His muscles were lean and hard,
tense under her touch, and she thought whimsically that he surely didn’t spend all
his time sitting at a card table.
He led her onto the dance floor and into a place amid the other couples. Sophia smiled
at them, looking to make sure they were all having a good time, but they all seemed
to blur together and vanish when Dominic put his arm around her waist and pulled her
closer to his tall, lean body. It felt as if a spark flashed through her when his
hand curled around her.
She looked up at him as she took his hand and heard the music swell around them in
a familiar rhythm. A half-smile lingered on his lips and he watched her closely, but
she couldn’t read his expression.
And it just made him all the more intriguing, damn him.
They swung into the first steps of the dance, and Sophia found she instinctively remembered
the patterns of the waltz she had once loved so much. Dominic led her smoothly into
a swaying turn, and he was just as finea dancer as she thought he would be. He knew just how to move, to lead her so lightly
she scarcely knew where she was going until she was there. His hold on her was polite,
but she felt very close to him, their bodies moving together in perfect, instinctive
concert.
He spun her around a corner so fast her skirts wrapped around his legs and the other
couples turned in a bright blur. She laughed with pleasure and heard him laugh with
her. They settled back into the turns and patterns of the dance.
“I haven’t waltzed in ages,” Sophia said, breathless.
“Really? You dance as if you did it every day,” Dominic answered with one of his half-smiles.
His fingers caressed her waist as they turned, the merest brushing touch, yet she
seemed to feel it to her very core.
“Only because you are a good partner,” she murmured.
Dominic laughed. “A compliment, Mrs. Westman? I am astonished—and flattered.”
“I am quite sure you hear such things from every lady you dance with.”
“Not every lady.” His smile slowly faded. “And none that are quite like you. I’m surprised
our paths haven’t crossed before.”
Ah, but their paths
had
crossed before, and she had the sense he knew it, too, that he played with her in
some way. But she just smiled and kept dancing. “I’ve been living abroad. I haven’t
been back to England in many months. But you
did
know my name.”
“It’s only polite to know one’s hostess,” Dominic said. “And only wise to know one’s
business rivals, even when they’re in a different city.”
“I’m not your rival, Mr. St. Claire; I am only anemployee here. I’m a simple widow who has to make her way in the world now.”
“One thing I am quite sure of, Mrs. Westman—you are not a
simple
anything. I’d like to know more about you. I wish you would let me take you to that
supper, so I could hear your story.”
And Sophia wished she could go to supper, more than she could ever let him see. But
she had to be careful now. She remembered Mary’s journal, her sad tale of what happened
when a St. Claire met a Huntington. “I have no story. At least nothing that would
interest a man like you, Mr. St. Claire.”
“Ah, but you have no idea what might interest me, Mrs. Westman. I want to let you
know that as well.” The music rose to a crescendo, and Dominic whirled her to a stop
at the edge of the floor. But he didn’t let her go. “I do enjoy a mystery.”
Sophia shook her head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not at all mysterious.”
He smiled but didn’t answer, just offered her his arm again and led her from the floor.
Sophia felt as if she should say something, some light, careless comment that showed
him she really wasn’t
the fine wool of his sleeve. She kept her touch light and polite, but she couldn’t
help but feel his heat through the expensive cloth. His muscles were lean and hard,
tense under her touch, and she thought whimsically that he surely didn’t spend all
his time sitting at a card table.
He led her onto the dance floor and into a place amid the other couples. Sophia smiled
at them, looking to make sure they were all having a good time, but they all seemed
to blur together and vanish when Dominic put his arm around her waist and pulled her
closer to his tall, lean body. It felt as if a spark flashed through her when his
hand curled around her.
She looked up at him as she took his hand and heard the music swell around them in
a familiar rhythm. A half-smile lingered on his lips and he watched her closely, but
she couldn’t read his expression.
And it just made him all the more intriguing, damn him.
They swung into the first steps of the dance, and Sophia found she instinctively remembered
the patterns of the waltz she had once loved so much. Dominic led her smoothly into
a swaying turn, and he was just as finea dancer as she thought he would be. He knew just how to move, to lead her so lightly
she scarcely knew where she was going until she was there. His hold on her was polite,
but she felt very close to him, their bodies moving together in perfect, instinctive
concert.
He spun her around a corner so fast her skirts wrapped around his legs and the other
couples turned in a bright blur. She laughed with pleasure and heard him laugh with
her. They settled back into the turns and patterns of the dance.
“I haven’t waltzed in ages,” Sophia said, breathless.
“Really? You dance as if you did it every day,” Dominic answered with one of his half-smiles.
His fingers caressed her waist as they turned, the merest brushing touch, yet she
seemed to feel it to her very core.
“Only because you are a good partner,” she murmured.
Dominic laughed. “A compliment, Mrs. Westman? I am astonished—and flattered.”
“I am quite sure you hear such things from every lady you dance with.”
“Not every lady.” His smile slowly faded. “And none that are quite like you. I’m surprised
our paths haven’t crossed before.”
Ah, but their paths
had
crossed before, and she had the sense he knew it, too, that he played with her in
some way. But she just smiled and kept dancing. “I’ve been living abroad. I haven’t
been back to England in many months. But you
did
know my name.”
“It’s only polite to know one’s hostess,” Dominic said. “And only wise to know one’s
business rivals, even when they’re in a different city.”
“I’m not your rival, Mr. St. Claire; I am only anemployee here. I’m a simple widow who has to make her way in the world now.”
“One thing I am quite sure of, Mrs. Westman—you are not a
simple
anything. I’d like to know more about you. I wish you would let me take you to that
supper, so I could hear your story.”
And Sophia wished she could go to supper, more than she could ever let him see. But
she had to be careful now. She remembered Mary’s journal, her sad tale of what happened
when a St. Claire met a Huntington. “I have no story. At least nothing that would
interest a man like you, Mr. St. Claire.”
“Ah, but you have no idea what might interest me, Mrs. Westman. I want to let you
know that as well.” The music rose to a crescendo, and Dominic whirled her to a stop
at the edge of the floor. But he didn’t let her go. “I do enjoy a mystery.”
Sophia shook her head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not at all mysterious.”
He smiled but didn’t answer, just offered her his arm again and led her from the floor.
Sophia felt as if she should say something, some light, careless comment that showed
him she really wasn’t
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