Page 33 of A Caribbean Heiress in Paris
“Te gusta provocarme,” she whispered.
“Are you provoking me, or am I provoking you, Luz Alana?”
“I am wondering that myself, Evan,” she told him cheekily, effortlessly flowing to the music. She was a beautiful dancer, her feet moving gracefully, hips swaying in perfect rhythm as she perched in his arms. He was not fond of ballrooms, but he could dance with this woman all night.
“Was that bastard Johnston the reason you were hiding in a corner?”
The question had an instant effect, and that fire in her eyes burned out as quickly as it had roared to life.
“I didn’t expect it to be this hard,” she confessed. “I never assumed it would besimpleto do business here on my own, but I drastically underestimated how unwilling people would be to even speak with me.” Her small hands tightened on him as she spoke. He could feel the distress in her. He wanted to make it all go away. “I have to leave for Edinburgh sooner than I’d thought, in just a few days, really, and I will leave only with the sales you helped me with.” Her upper lip wobbled, and rage ensnared him. “They will never take me seriously.”
He stopped in the middle of the floor and brought his hand under her chin, nudging until she looked at him.
“I take you seriously, Luz Alana.” Blood rushed to his temples as he opened his mouth, practically shaking from how much he needed this woman to believe him.
“Youwant to kiss me,” she rebutted.
“I do,” he confessed, and her lips parted expectantly. This wildness inside him was no condition in which to make life-changing decisions. But now he had to do this, and soon. “I also respect how much passion you have for your business.”
“I can assure you that you’re in the minority.”
“Maybe you haven’t had the right audience,” he hedged. “You were brilliant with Dairoku. He sent me a note after we left him thanking me for bringing you to our meeting.”
“That only worked because you vetted me,” she countered, and he couldn’t exactly deny that. “Everyone wants to do business with you, Evan. You’re an earl, for God’s sake. You don’t know what it’s like for me. You walk into rooms like you expect the sea to part, and everyone acts accordingly. I can’t get anyone to give me the time of day.”
“You’re right,” he conceded. “I don’t know what it’s like for you, and I...” He couldn’t do it here, not in front of all these people. It had to be somewhere when they could be alone together. Where they could talk like they had earlier, honestly. As equals. “Would you like to get some fresh air?”
Eleven
“Are you intending to get me drunk with that bottle of champagne?” Luz asked as she watched Evan nab a bottle from one of the tables before whisking her out into the gardens behind the pavilion.
“I thought I’d bring something to entice you.”
“Is that how earls operate? Steal champagne to woo unsuspecting ladies into dark corners?”
Without a word he tugged her to him until there was only a breath of space between them. Their bodies were not quite touching, but she could feel the heat of him warming her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.
“Does this usually work on women?” She had no intention of letting him know the effect he had on her.
“I believe,” he whispered, as his hand on her back did away with what little space was left between them, “it may be working on you.”
She felt thatyouin her core, turning her insides molten. This was a very dangerous game to play with the only person who had been willing to help her. She was dancing on flames tonight, and she could not seem to stop. How could she when he’d brought her that bastard Johnston, like a gladiator presenting his queen with the head of her enemy?
There was absolutely no keeping her wits about her with this man.
“Why did you bring me here?” she rasped as he grazed her forehead with soft kisses.
“I’m taking you to the top of the tower,” he informed her placidly, and she could feel his lips forming the words on her skin. The effect was so hypnotizing it took her a moment to digest what he’d told her.
“You’re what?” she said, finally pulling herself out of the fog she’d been in. “It’s closed,” she pointed out, and he proffered her a lazy smile that was as sinful as it was sweet.
“It’s closed for the public, Luz Alana.Iam not the public.” The sardonic tone of his voice really should infuriate her. But there was an eagerness in his eyes that disarmed her. He wasn’t whisking her away, he was inviting her to go on an adventure with him, just like he’d done this morning.
“It’s terribly inappropriate,” she said weakly, as the thought occurred to her this would likely be her last chance to go up the tower. Amaranta had taken Clarita up after their jaunt to Cairo Street, but Luz and the Leonas had had to get dressed for the soirée. It would be romantic to go up tonight, and reckless. But this was Paris, and the man was so very tempting. Evan Sinclair—no, Lord Darnick—and a bottle of champagne. Just the two of them at the top of the world.
It could be a memory to sustain her on the endless lonely nights ahead.
“Oh, all right,” she huffed. He grinned that wolfish grin that made her knees weak and grazed a soft kiss on her cheek. The velvety bristle of his beard made her shiver.
