Page 72 of One Dangerous Desire
The grin on his face widened at the sight of her. Having her here, in the flesh, was much better than yearning for her in his head. “Tell me you at least took the carriage this time.”
She didn’t smile at his teasing tone, nor did she look particularly glad to see him. Worse, as he drew near, she flinched back.
If he hadn’t experienced the weeks since they’d met, he might have thought they were back to that first encounter on the street in front of Ashworth House, with May insisting he’d never get to touch her again. But he had touched her, and she’d made him whole, and nothing could be allowed to come between them again.
He ran a hand down the sleeve of her gown and caught her hand. “You don’t appear nearly as pleased to see me as I am to see you.”
“I am.” She ran a bare finger along the edge of his hand, and he felt the stroke at the base of his spine, as if she’d drawn her fingertips down his back. “I’ve missed you since we parted.”
Clasping his other hand ’round her waist, he pulled her close and finally earned the welcome he craved. She let him gather her into his embrace and lifted up on her toes for a kiss. But something was amiss. He sensed tension in her body, hesitation in her touch.
“What is it?”
“I spoke to my father about his ultimatum.” May bit her lip and cast her eyes downward.
“I see.” His belly tensed as he waited for the rest. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again, but he would not force her hand as her father seemed determined to do.
“I think he wishes us well.”
Rex released the breath he’d been holding and smiled.
“But . . . ”
Nothing in him tensed as she hesitated. May had chosen him. Her father had given his blessing. His own father would soon be dealt with. Everything else could be managed.
“I would like to take a role at the new store. To learn from Mr. Graves about managing Sedgwick’s.” A frown pinched the skin between her eyebrows.
“Wonderful. Graves seems an able man from whom to learn.” Rex gathered May in his arms.
She pulled back, still frowning. “The store may consume a good deal of my time. Perhaps you’d prefer I helped with the hotel or played hostess at home.”
Despite her serious mien, Rex couldn’t stifle a chuckle. “Yes, I’ve always wanted a wife who would stay home and make me teacakes and arrange ridiculous parlor games.”
With a warm, diminutive palm on his chest, May pushed at him, forcing Rex to loosen his hold. Forcing him to let her go.
Every step she took away from him across the freshly polished floor echoed like a hammer strike in his mind. She was too glum. He missed her light and laughter, her animated enthusiasm about some sight or color that had taken her fancy.
Stopping in the middle of the ballroom, very near where she’d stood the first time he showed her the space, May spoke with her back to him. “Lord Devenham told me that he would do what he should, rather than what he wished to do. That he’d marry a woman he didn’t love because of expectation and duty.”
“What the hell does Devenham to do with us?” His shout trebled against the high dome of the ceiling, louder than he intended. Only yesterday he’d held her, made love to her, experienced a bit of the contentment he’d been pursuing all his life. Now she was talking about the pale, floppy-haired aristocrat who’d asked for her hand in marriage.
“If you’d married Caroline as you’d intended, you would have that doting wife who was content to stay at home.”
“First of all,” he said, forcing the darkness from his tone, “I never intended to marry Lady Caroline.” Considered it, yes, but quickly discarded the notion. Cast away thoughts of any other woman, truth be told, the moment he saw May again.
A spark lit in May’s eyes when she swung around and cast him a narrowed gaze, the perfect peaks of her upper lip slanted down in a doubtful moue. “You allowed her to grope you at Lady Stamford’s party and skated with her at the roller rink.”
“That parlor game wasnotmy idea. And I skated with a black-haired, rose-scented beauty at the roller rink. Much less skillfully than she did, I might add. That’s the bit I remember.”
The distance between them was too much. He couldn’t give her room to voice her doubts and worries when it turned the very air between them frigid. As he crossed the half length of the ballroom, Rex held out his arms. “Teach me to waltz.”
Her soft, hesitant smile mended him, somewhere low and hidden in his chest, where unsentimental men weren’t supposed to feel a thing.
“You know how to waltz. You’ve been in London for years and probably attended dozens of balls.” Her shoulders settled back, and her lush lips eased up into a half smile. He dared to draw closer. Close enough to see the blue of her gaze turn vibrant and bright, a bit of the light in her eyes returning.
“Two dozen, at least.”
“And you never waltzed?”
