Page 8 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
It is only logical that the two finest dancers should be paired together…
He did not like to be a spectator. Not one bit.
“Have I displeased you?” Lady Catherine said quietly, her hand gripping his shoulder in a territorial gesture. He did not much like that, either, for though he adored women, he had vowed that he would never settle for just one and take a wife.
Marriage is a poison to most. Two people can love one another until their hearts ache, and it can still crumble to dust.
Even seeing the joyful union between Nora and Liam had not been able to change his mind, though he was forced to endure weekly lectures on the merits of marriage by the latter. Kenneth, however, seemed to be on the same side as Mark, though it was always hard to tell what was really going on behind his friend’s mysterious, brooding façade.
He broke apart from Lady Catherine before the music had come to an end. “No, dear girl, you have not displeased me, but I find myself with a terrible thirst that I must slake.” He bowed to her. “You have my gratitude. You were a wonderful partner, but I cannot be selfish. I see so many hungry eyes upon you, and I would not deny these other gentlemen the opportunity to enjoy your grace and beauty.”
Lady Catherine beamed with pleasure. The poor thing did not recognize a rejection that was masked in compliments, nor was she supposed to. Mark did not want to hurt her feelings, he simply did not want to dance with her anymore. Over the years, he had become very adept in the art of rebuffing a lady without damaging her self-esteem.
Offering one more bow, for good measure, he turned and walked away from the young woman. She would find another partner soon enough.
“Carlton!” A voice brought him to a halt, halfway toward the ballroom exit. “Where do you think you’re going?” Nora popped up in front of him, wearing a mischievous grin.
Mark rolled his eyes. “I require some fresh air.”
“But you have the attention of the entire ballroom.” Nora seized him by the wrist. “I can’t lose my best gentleman dancer just yet. You must stay until I announce that the waltzing is over for tonight, and I havejustthe partner for you.”
He tried to refuse, but Nora was surprisingly strong, and surprisingly determined, as she dragged him back to the dancing floor.
Before he knew it, the orchestra came to a temporary halt and the dancing pairs stepped back from one another. At the same moment, Nora thrust Mark into the gap between the breathless, flushed, mesmerizing figure of Johanna, and her partner. The fellow looked affronted, his hand raised as if to try and pull her back into his clutches, but Nora was quicker. She took the gentleman by the arm and led him toward Lady Catherine, who stood alone on the perimeter of the dancing floor.
Mark stared at Johanna, his throat constricting as he saw the heaving rise and fall of her exceptional bosom, her breath coming in stirring pants after the exertion of two waltzes. And she stared right back, the two of them locked in a stilted silence.
Just then, the orchestra struck up a fresh waltz, and new partners filtered toward the dancing square.
I have two choices: I dance with her, or I walk away. No, there is another: we keep staring at one another, and get in the way of all the other dancers.
“Well?” Johanna asked, as though she could read his mind.
Taking a breath, he closed the gap between them, sliding his palm against hers and pulling her against him. She gasped in a way that made his loins pulse, and it did not help that he could feel the rustle of her skirts against the front of his trousers.
He met her shining blue eyes, the shade matching the color of her gown. “We must dance, Mrs. Carlton.”
For that is all we can do…
Chapter Five
“You are not supposed to grasp onto me as if I were a piglet trying to flee from you,” Johanna muttered, as she swept around the ballroom in Mark’s guiding hands.
I cannot concentrate on the steps if I can feel your fingertips as though they were upon my bare skin.
She hoped the warmth in her cheeks did not belie the real reason for scolding him. In all the years they had known one another, they had never been this close before. She had certainly never felt her hand in his, nor the thrill of her bosom brushing against his hard, broad chest.
In her younger years, after seeing him in the river, she had daydreamed about running her hands across that naked chest, to feel the lines of every sculpted contour, but that had been a naïve fantasy. She could not decide if this reality was worse or better, for in her dreams there had never been an undercurrent of angry tension between them.
“Have you taken notice of your own hand?” Mark sniped back. “I feel as though a falcon has landed on my shoulder and is attempting to gouge my flesh.”
She sniffed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her injured by his words. “I did not hear any of my other partners complaining.”
“They likely wanted to spare you the embarrassment.”
A yelp escaped her throat as they narrowly avoided colliding with another couple. It was bad enough that she could feel the disapproving stares of the revelers upon her, without her drawing further attention to herself due to Mark’s mistake. A recent widow was not supposed to be dancing a waltz with her husband’s nephew.
They were celebrating me before. Why must you turn everything sour, Mark? Why can you not just be pleasant, and then I might be pleasant and… who knows what might happen?
