Page 28 of One Dangerous Desire
“No,” she said, to herself and to him. She couldn’t allow herself to be drawn in again. If she’d changed at all, it was because he’d taught her not to trust too readily. “We should return to the ballroom. People will talk if we’re both gone too long.”
He took a step back when she pushed past him toward the door; then he reached an arm out to stall her. “Will you dance with me?”
“No, I don’t think we should.” She imagined it, could already feel the tingle of his hand clasped in hers, the press of his palm at her back.
“Because you’re saving all your dances for Devenham?” It was the first time he raised his voice since joining her on the front step.
“As you’ve promised Caroline all of yours?”
He shifted his arm to grip her lightly around the waist, finally offering the touch she’d been craving. She pressed against his hand. Some part of her needed this—his touch, his warmth, his nearness.
“I’d rather dance with you,” he whispered.
Yes.She wanted to dance with him too. They’d never danced before. It would be new and fresh between them, untainted by past hurts. But she’d want more. She already wanted more.
“What about the duke’s wager?” Grasping, she searched for any reason, any excuse, that would allow her to deny her desire to waltz with him. “Dancing with me won’t win you the funds for your hotel.”
Rex lowered his arm and shoved his clenched fist down at his side. “Go, then. Devenham will have missed you by now.”
He’d rarely spoken to her in anger, but she heard it now in his tone, felt it radiating off of him, as hot as the heat of his palm had been against her belly.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Leighton.”
May made her way back inside. Returning to the ballroom took effort, determination, as if every moment spent in Rex’s company tangled her up in him again. Walking away didn’t feel like victory anymore.
Henry approached the moment she crossed the ballroom’s threshold, pleasure lighting his face. She told herself to go to him. Reminded herself not to look back.
Chapter Ten
REX SNAPPED THElid on his pocket watch closed and looked up to see Sullivan’s hansom cab rattling around the corner. He waited until the horse and vehicle pulled up to the pavement and approached before Sullivan could disembark.
“Move over. I’m joining you.”
“I’ve come to deliver my weekly report, sir.” Sullivan grimaced. “Have I not arrived at the hour you requested?”
The man truly loathed any change in his ordered routine.
“As always, you’re perfectly timed, Jack. You can deliver your report en route to the Olympia Grand.” Rex glanced up at the driver as he mentioned their destination before stepping into the cab.
Sullivan grumbled, “I still don’t comprehend.” He shifted to make room for his employer. “You are going to a skating rink. And you wish me to accompany you?”
He said the wordsskating rinkwith as much disdain as he might have referred to the worst den of iniquity London had to offer.
“You comprehend the situation perfectly.” Rex tried to find a place to rest his arm and ended up pointing his elbow out the side of the cab. Neither of them were diminutive men and their overcoats made for a crowded carriage.
“I am afraid I do not, sir. In fact, I feel quite certain there are details of which I am not yet in possession. Key details. Important facts that would explain why you wish to engage in faddish entertainment and how my accompaniment will assist you.”
Rex cast his inquiry agent a sidelong glance. “Do you ever engage in entertainment, Jack? Faddish or otherwise?” He worked to keep any hint of judgment from his tone. He was truly curious. Considering that Sullivan was the closest he had to a friend and confidant in all of London, he knew frightfully little about the man’s personal life.
“Why is my presence required this afternoon?” he bit out, refusing to look Rex’s way or acknowledge his question.
“Devenham’s sister invited me. She says her cousin will serve as chaperone but asked if I would bring a gentleman friend along to even out the numbers.”
Sullivan chuckled. “A woman saysgentlemanandfriend, and you think of me?”
Rex wasn’t certain if the man was expressing amusement or giving him a set-down. Sullivanhadbeen the only individual to come to mind when he’d received Lady Caroline’s invitation. “I do consider you a friend, Jack.” Expecting the detective to feel the same was a bit much to ask, especially considering that he paid the man’s wages.
“I’m honored, Mr. Leighton.” Always fastidious about titles, Sullivan never called Rex by his given name. “However, I fear I’ll fail you completely if you take me for a gentleman.” His voice lowered to the pained whisper one might use in a confessional. “I know how to behave like a gentleman, even dress to pass for one, but I assure you that no one who knew of my past—”
