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Warningly, Tamara gave a quick shake of the head.
“—anything,” Belinda acknowledged, finishing for her.
At the wedding reception, Colin barely took his eyes off of Belinda. He stood to one side of the ballroom and took a sip of his wine. He knew he had unmasked desire on his face. He was committing the unbelievably gauche sin of lusting after his own wife at a social event, but he didn’t give a damn.
After Pia and Hawk’s wedding ceremony, followed by a traditional wedding breakfast, everyone had repaired and refreshed in time for an elegant black-tie dinner-dance in Silderly Park’s ballroom.
When Colin had first caught sight of Belinda tonight, she had stunned him with a body-hugging gown of crimson satin. She wore a large ruby-and-diamond pendant necklace and matching earrings. A delicate flower-motif tiara nested in her upswept hair.
He’d presented her with the jewels when she’d arrived at their hotel for the wedding. He’d texted her in advance to ask the color of her dress, and if she’d wondered why he bothered asking, she hadn’t let on. He meant tonight to be a statement to everyone that Belinda was his marchioness. Not only were many entrants in Debrett’s Peerage in attendance, but he thought he’d spotted a photographer for Tatler, the society glossy.
Across the room, Colin stared at the ruby pendant resting in the deep V of Belinda’s cleavage. It twinkled and taunted him. If he thought he’d been tempted this morning during the wedding ceremony, he was certainly in purgatory now as a result of her crimson fire ensemble. It was all he could do not to sweep up Belinda and carry her away from the conversation that she was having with a Spanish countess.
Belinda had arrived from London only this morning and had parked her bags in their hotel suite with just enough time to get ready for the wedding. He’d missed her this past week. If anything, their recent skirmishes had increased his desire for her.
Colin handed his empty glass to a passing waiter and walked deliberately toward his wife.
At the last moment, Belinda turned her head and spotted him. She widened her eyes.
“Hello, darling,” he said, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the cheek before she could move away.
The Spanish countess smiled at both of them.
“Colin, may I introduce you to—”
“We already have made each others’ acquaintance,” he interrupted smoothly. “Pleased to see you again, Countess.”
“Likewise, my lord.”
He cupped Belinda’s elbow. “You would not mind if I lure my beautiful wife away for a dance…”
The countess smiled again and inclined her head. “Of course, not.”
“Oh, but—”
Colin turned Belinda in the direction of the dance floor. “The next song is about to begin.”
After a moment’s resistance, Belinda let him guide her toward some other couples.
When they reached the dance floor, he turned her to face him.
She frowned up at him. “Neatly done.”
It wasn’t a compliment. Nonetheless, he smiled easily. “Thank you. I assume you know how to waltz?”
“Yes.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was forced to take comportment lessons as a teenager.”
His smile widened into a grin. “I can see the results. Your manners are exquisite, particularly toward me.”
“Sarcasm is not appreciated,” she grumbled.
He slipped his hand around her waist, and when she laid her hand in his, he pulled her closer.
She sucked in a startled breath. “Of course a romantic like Pia would want the waltz played at her wedding.”
“Lucky me.”
He’d been itching to touch her all evening, even if it was through the
