Page 26 of One Dangerous Desire
It was a pointless observation. Rex Leighton’s preferences were none of May’s concern. Yet after encountering the man four times at various dinner parties during the previous week and a half, she couldn’t help but notice his absence at every ball over the same stretch of days.
Perhaps he didn’t like dancing. Or didn’t know how. He wouldn’t have taken lessons from an overbearing tutor as a child, as she had. Though her dancing master had been a beastly man, May loved waltzing. It made her sad to think of anyone who’d never had the chance to learn.
For a moment she allowed herself to imagine Rex taking a turn around a ballroom. Despite his height and bulk, he’d always moved with agility and grace. Unlike some men, he never settled into a languid slump. His body radiated a readiness to move, even when he stood, feet apart, as solid as an oak.
Nonsense.Why waste time thinking about the man at all?
This ball would be like the others. She’d try not to think about what trouble her father might be getting into on the other side of town, visit with Em, attempt to be civil to Lady Caroline, and enjoy dancing with Henry. That is, if she could manage to get a dance with him at all.
Lady Caroline kept pushing her friend on him as eagerly as Emily nudged May his way. The father of Caroline’s friend had also made his fortune in trade, but the young lady had impeccable family connections and was a true English rose, with pale skin and ever-blooming cheeks. She didn’t have a million-dollar dowry like May’s, if rumors were true. But May knew gossip could cut both ways, especially if her father’s financial troubles became known.
“You look deep in thought when you should be filling your dance card.” Emily approached and offered May a kiss on the cheek in greeting. “Caroline is certainly scrambling to rearrange hers.”
“Oh, why so?” May scanned the edges of the ballroom for Caroline, and her gaze snagged on Henry, who stood watching her from across the room. He tipped his head and offered a dimple-edged grin.
“Because of him.”
May followed the direction of Emily’s gaze and gasped. More than a gasp. Lower and full of irritation. Almost a growl.
Rex stood on the threshold of the Bridewells’ ballroom. And he looked nothing at all like a man who disliked balls. He scanned the room with a confident smirk curving his sensual mouth, like a warrior who’d just conquered all he surveyed. Then he spotted her, and the up-tilted edges of his mouth fell.
Her own brows knit in a frown. Every time she saw him, urges clashed inside her. A contest between her head and heart. Between her body’s buzzing reaction to the man, and the impossibility of ever allowing herself to trust him again.
“Improve my evening, May, and tell me you’ll save me several dances.” The sound of Lord Devenham’s voice startled her. Distracted with watching Rex, she’d failed to notice Henry’s approach.
“Of course I will.” It was a relief to turn and smile at the earl, rather than continue her absurd staring match with Rex.
“Would you join me now?” Henry lifted his arm as if he meant to lead her away, though the music hadn’t begun. “I’m off to greet my cousin and her circle who have just arrived. I’d be pleased to introduce you.”
May rested her hand on his arm and nodded her assent. The earl swung between showing her preference and favoring Caroline’s friend. Tonight, it seemed, he intended to make her the focus of his regard.
Henry’s cousin proved to be a haughty young lady, who waved her hand in dismissal at nearly every comment others made. Devenham and his family were mad for horseflesh, and the topic soon turned to the schedule of upcoming races during the social season. May tried to follow the discussion as one young man rattled off the names of stallions and their owners. She thought it might be enjoyable to sketch a race. A challenge, if nothing else.
Challenge was an apt description for Rex Leighton too, and his sudden, perpetual presence at every social event she attended. Now, it seemed, she wouldn’t even be free of him at balls.
Ignoring the man was the best course. Yet even as she promised herself she’d do so, May caught a glimpse of his tall, muscular frame in her periphery. Turning her head for a quick glance, she saw Rex approach Lady Caroline. The young woman beamed back at him as foolishly as she herself had. Countless times, so long ago.
“And what will you wear, Miss Sedgwick. Do you have your hat yet?” Henry’s cousin questioned her loudly, as if to point out just how little May had been attending to the conversation.
“Derby Day,” Henry whispered helpfully.
May knew it was the day of a popular horserace and little else. She’d hadn’t attended the previous year and had minimal interest in doing so this season.
“You’ve never been?” The haughty female cousin sounded both astounded and appalled. “Andhowlong have you been in London?” There was nothing of subtlety in the young woman’s question. Her intonation said she thought May a social pariah for not attending the race.
“Long enough to know the city is filled with amusements beyond those involving horses.” The words were out. She couldn’t take them back, nor did she wish to. Every word was true.
And, apparently, shocking. May managed to stay in the circle of noble ladies and gentlemen while they executed a chorus of chastising sniffs at her rudeness. Long enough to see Henry’s eyes widen as if May had insulted the queen.
Then she turned and started toward the exit, past where Rex and Caroline stood together, past Em and the stunned glance of Mrs. Bridewell.
A footman scurried to open the front door, and May stopped on the front step, sucking in long gulps of cool night air. Moments passed before she tamed her frustration, as much with herself as with Henry’s cousin and friends. She’d never run away from a drawing room skirmish. Worry over her father seemed to be fraying her nerves.
“Escaping before the evening is over is my style, not yours.” Rex had found her.
Before she could put back her armor and guard against him, the deep tone of his voice sent a wave of heat rushing through her body, igniting memories she’d vowed to forget.
“I intend to return to the ballroom momentarily, Mr. Leighton. You needn’t have come to rescue me.”
