Page 46 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
Yes, this.She tilted her head, inviting him in for the kiss she wanted so badly to experience.
The tempo of the music abruptly changed, turning from dreamy and sensual to unrestrained and fast. At the first few notes, the other dancers broke into rowdy applause, hooting and cheering.
Kieran straightened, his brow furrowing as though he was regaining consciousness. He looked at the dancers, who now spun in a frenetic, frenzied pace far wilder than any typical country dance. The taller dancers picked up their shorter partners and swung them around, causing giddy laughter, especially when the ladies’ skirts flew up to reveal ankles and calves.
And then Celeste was spinning, too, Kieran’s arms around her waist as he turned with her. She laughed as the room whirled around her, light andcolor streaking as if she was in the depths of a dream. The last time anyone had spun her around, she’d been a little girl in her brother’s arms. Yet now she was a grown woman, being turned by Kieran Ransome, in the heart of a bacchanal.
He set her back on her feet and they continued to dance, joining hands as they capered across the floor.
A sandy-haired, rather handsome man appeared behind Kieran. The man smiled as he tapped Kieran on the shoulder, and motioned toward Celeste in a wordless question. Whoever this person was, he wanted to dance with her.
Kieran shot her a questioning look.
Should she? She adored being in Kieran’s arms, but if his words were true, if shewasSalome, she needed to explore everything about that part of herself. Soon, she’d be Lord Montford’s property, and might never have the chance again to experience this freedom.
Kieran trusted her to know what she wanted for herself, as she needed to trust herself.
She inclined her head in agreement. The man’s smile widened as Kieran handed her to him. Her new partner had already begun to twirl her around as Kieran bowed before retreating.
Celeste lost sight of Kieran after that, too caught up in the rhythm and movement to keep track of his whereabouts.
“I’m Frank,” the man said to her above the music.
“Salome,” she answered, feeling the strength behind owning that name for herself.
“You’re the most spectacular being I’ve ever beheld, Salome,” Frank said as they danced. “The way you laugh . . .”
She favored him with her laughter, making him grin delightedly. This was precisely what she’d wanted for herself when she’d come up with this mad scheme. It felt like her first taste of that boiled sweet so long ago.
And yet...
Dancing with Frank wasn’t as wonderful as being in Kieran’s arms. Frank was pleasant enough to look at, and capable of partnering her, and while he looked at her with interest, he fortunately didn’t try to steal any kisses or groping touches.
But Frank wasn’t Kieran. It was like staring at the sun through many layers of gauze. There was brightness, but it was far dimmer—and less dangerous. Yet she craved the burn, and the searing afterimage in her mind and body.
When the song ended, she immediately looked for Kieran. She saw him standing in the corner with a glass of wine.
Watching her.
She nodded her gratitude to Frank, but her attention was fixed entirely on Kieran, and she went to him. Because tonight she followed her heart, and it wanted the man she couldn’t have.
Chapter 11
Kieran watched Celeste head to him, and though the ballroom was alive with color and motion and an abundance of sensory details that would have usually drawn his attention, she was his sole focus.
It wasn’t as though her walk had changed. Her hips had always swayed in an intriguing fashion, her spine was as upright as ever, and her shoulders as straight as a confident woman might hold them. Yet there was an intangible quality about her now, her courage fully manifesting. She was tasting what the world had to offer her, and hungered for more.
Hell, how he wanted to be the man to give it to her. When that damned blond oaf had cut in on the dance floor, Kieran had had to will his hand to uncurl from a fist and remind himself that these midnight outings were for Celeste’s benefit. If she wanted to dance with another man, by God, he’d ensure that happened. And the blond buffoon had done Kieran a favor.
Because he’d wanted to kiss her. No, he’d needed todevourher. He ached to cover every inch of herbody with his, surround her with himself. Be inside her.
Stepping aside so she could dance with someone else gave him the distance he required. His levelheaded self—the one he seldom listened to—reminded him of who she was, and why he had to keep some semblance of detachment from her.
“A shame to stand on your own,” a woman in violet said, sidling up to him. He recognized her as Mrs. Cochrane, a widow who was well-regarded for her creativity in the bedroom. She and Kieran had never become lovers, though the potential had always been there. “Especially a man who can dance so expertly.”
Mrs. Cochrane glanced meaningfully toward the dance floor, where more pairs had gathered as another slow, sensuous tune began.
“If it’s a partner you seek,” he said lightly, “you’ve your choice.” He directed her attention toward a hale silver-haired gentleman watching her from one side of the ballroom, and then looked over at a woman in ruby velvet, who also had fixed her attention on the widow.
