Page 55 of Heart of Iron
He didn’t speak.And neither did she.Everything that needed to be said was spoken by the entwining of their bodies.Lena surrendered to the inevitable, her cheeks flushed with a becoming pink as she wilted into his touch.
And he claimed her as his; his fingers shackling her wrists as she turned, then sliding down her corseted hips, one hand firm across the small of her back as he drew her back into his embrace.He’d forgotten the steps by now.Created his own.Predator to prey, each movement a prophetic one.
The music trailed to a smoky halt.Clapping erupted and Will stilled, his arms tight around her hips.Lena looked up, her dazed expression fading away as she realized where they were.The pink of her cheeks deepened, her eyes darting past his shoulder.
Far too many interested eyes looked their way.Lena tugged at his grip.He held it for a moment, forcing her gaze to his, then let her go.
With a polite smile, she curtsied.“Thank you,” she murmured, knowing every word she now spoke would be heard.“For a wonderful dance.”
He bowed his head, a sign of respect he’d give to no other woman here.“I enjoyed it.”
A surprise in itself.But her presence had made an excruciating moment a delightful one.He found he wanted to keep going.
Anyexcusetokeepherinhisarms…
Will looked away.He couldn’t afford to have thoughts like that.His gaze drifted over the Norwegians in the corner.The reason he was here.Something he shouldn’t forget.
“Every woman here wants to dance with you now,” Lena murmured.
“I only dance once.”
A slight smile.“I think if I asked you, you’d change your mind.”
“Are you askin’ me?”
Lena looked up from beneath her lashes.“I don’t think we should.If I dance with you again, we’re going to attract attention.”
“We already have.”
Lena considered the room.“I need to dance with someone else,” she replied.The light strains of music were starting up again, this time a more traditional dance.A waltz, he suspected.
He grabbed her wrist.“Not theassah.”
“No?”
“No.”
That dance was his.
Her smile bloomed, causing the breath to catch in his chest.“Not theassahthen.Go.Find your Norwegians.I’ll stall the gossip you’re no doubt causing.”She gave a rueful twist of her lips.“You’re going to drive me to bedlam, you know that?”
It was no more than she was doing to him.Thank God he wasn’t the only one afflicted by this madness between them.
With one last smoky look over her shoulder, she sauntered into the crowd, crooking a finger at some young lordling in a yellow coat.He swallowed hard and darted to her side, offering a polite hand as he led her into the waltz.
Will turned and strode through the crowd, muttering his apologies as he pushed past.Too many people.The air was too stuffy.And a part of him didn’t want to watch her on someone else’s arm.
Finding a room with refreshments laid out, he tugged at the collar of his coat.Cool air stirred across his face, and the few people picking at the refreshment table realized who he was and darted back to the main ballroom.Which suited him perfectly.
Taking a plate, he piled it with sweetmeats and pastries and those little cakes Lena seemed to like.Soft footsteps shuffled the carpet behind him and he stilled, catching a hint of a pale shadow reflected in the cut crystal bowl in front of him.
Hadn’t taken them long.
Wondering who they’d sent, he turned, eyeing the stranger without surprise.
With a nervous smile for him, the Lady Astrid crossed the room to the refreshment table.Her white gown was cut to move with each step, creating a graceful, sinuous effect that no human woman could ever hope to emulate.
“You are William Carver,” she murmured, trailing her fingers over the tablecloth as she stalked toward him.A swift smile.Not so nervous now.If she ever had been.There’d been no hint of it in her scent.“We didn’t expect to find one of our own here.”
