Page 82 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
Perhaps... perhaps... hecouldbelong to her. Joy filled him at the thought that they would have mornings and nights and days together, and years. All the years of his life. There were obstacles, huge obstacles. But surely if she shared his feelings, they might find a way. The world would belong to them, and he’d never take another step without her beside him. And he’d be the fortunate bastard to support her in her own journey.
“Jesus Christ,” Finn muttered. “If Dom could see your face when you look at his sister...”
“Shut up, brother,” Kieran answered distractedly.
Without thought, he moved toward Celeste because he couldn’t see her and remain at a distance. Wherever she was, he needed to be.
Chapter 19
Rosalind was saying something to her, something about how many people had crammed themselves into the duke’s ballroom, or perhaps she was talking about the impressive orchestra that had been hired for the evening—but the truth was Celeste didn’t hear a word her friend said because she’d just caught sight of Kieran as he headed straight in her direction.
There was heat and purpose in his gaze, and he seemed to cleave through the crowd like darkness through artificial light. With each of his steps closer, her heart beat faster and faster, and she was convinced its drumming would provide a bass note to the music from that impressive orchestra.
“Also, I’m eagerly awaiting the indoor pyrotechnic display,” Rosalind said cheerfully.
“Yes, me, too,” Celeste replied, her attention solely on Kieran’s approach.
Rosalind laughed and shook her head. “Given that Mr. Ransome is nearly upon us, I believe I’ll escort myself to the cardroom and fleece a few toffs.”
On her own, Celeste didn’t move or breathe until Kieran stood before her. He bowed smoothly, while she gave him her best curtsey, and the room itself dropped away into shadow. The only thing she saw was him.
“Mr. Ransome,” she said breathlessly.
“Miss Kilburn.” His voice was low and deep, strumming across her body.
“Are you enjoying your evening?” She had to mouth polite, empty phrases rather than launch herself at him and fasten her lips to his, but it was a struggle.
“I wasn’t,” he said. “Now I am. Yet later will be even more enjoyable.”
“Why is that?”
“Because,” he said, leaning closer and speaking lowly, “Salome and I have another adventure ahead of us.”
Excitement leapt along her limbs, and a rush of heat. If the hot promise in his eyes was any sign, then she would know his touch upon her naked skin once more. Her body ached to lie in his arms, to feel his embrace around her.
“She’s to meet you at the usual time and place?”
“She is. And I promise that she’ll have a night she won’t soon forget.”
“Where—”
“Miss Kilburn,” a man’s voice said politely. “Ransome.”
Celeste fought the urge to shout in frustration at Lord Montford, who looked at her with a pleasant, anticipatory expression. “Good evening, Lord Montford.”
“I believe you’ve promised me the next dance,” the earl said, holding out his hand as the orchestra played the opening bars of a waltz.
She’d done no such thing, but to say so, especially as many of the guests were watching her, would have been extraordinarily rude. Besides, it didn’t matter if she granted Lord Montford one dance, not when she and Kieran had the rest of the night to themselves.
Kieran glowered, yet she sent him a speaking glance that managed to keep him from planting his fist in Lord Montford’s face. It did seem a struggle for him, though.
“Thank you, Lord Montford,” she said, placing her hand on his.
She walked with the earl out onto the floor, taking their position with the other dancers. Lord Montford’s expression was smooth like polished stone. Perhaps beneath that polish he was annoyed that she had been standing with Kieran, so she’d have to find some way to placate the earl.
The dance began, and she moved through the steps by rote. Being held by Lord Montford didn’t stir her at all, so she allowed her mind to wander as they danced. Where would Kieran take her tonight? They’d already gone to a gaming hell, a wild private party, and the gathering of freethinkers at the theater. Shedidwant to see Vauxhall, despite his insistence it was for tourists, but what she truly wanted was to be alone with him, preferably near a bed, and with ample time to explore each other. She’d been dreaming about hearing him recite his poetry, especially if he was naked, and—
“It’s time we made official our engagement,” Lord Montford said agreeably.
