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‘I can do something better than that.’ He gestured towards a small rosewood box. ‘Behold your music.’
‘Music? From a box?’ Henri tilted her head. Had Robert partaken of far too much punch? ‘What sort of gullible fool do you take me for? You cannot get music from a box.’
He put his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels, like a young schoolboy. ‘Would you care to wager?’
Slowly Henri shook her head. ‘I’m prepared to be amazed. You are far too confident. Demonstrate this musical box of yours and we shall see if it produces music fit for dancing.’
‘Very wise.’
He gave a few deft turns of a key. ‘It is a musical box. I picked it up in Switzerland a few years ago when I visited the Continent. My father had a mechanical bird that used to sing when I was a young boy, but I broke it about the time my mother died. My father was very angry with me at the time. The box commemorates my first success. Unfortunately my father died before I could bring it home.’
His first success and he wanted to make amends for something he had inadvertently damaged. The father who had told him to trust logic rather than his feelings. Only his father never knew. Henri put a hand over her mouth. She wanted to gather him in her arms and wipe the vulnerable look from his eyes. ‘You never speak of your past.’
‘I find it better to live for tomorrow’s hope. The future holds much more promises than the past’s disappointments.’
‘But the past…is important,’ she said, trying to keep the fizzing feeling from exploding.
He lifted the inlaid lid and a sweet lilting melody came out of the box, filling the room. Henri laughed, enchanted, and the bubbles seemed to enter her bloodstream. ‘The box is playing music. Actual proper music, Robert.’
‘You like it, then?’ he asked with a note of barely suppressed excitement.
‘I have never seen such a thing before, but it is wonderful.’ Henri regarded the spinning cylinders. Her body swayed in time to the music.
‘And your objection to dancing with me is?’
Henri ran her tongue over her parched lips. ‘Can there be any objection?’
Her bare hand fit snugly into his gloved one. It would only be a few steps or once around the room at most. It was not a proper dance lasting a half-hour. But even still, her pulse beat faster.
Robert’s hand went to her waist and held her as they slowly circled around the room. All the while Henri was conscience of only him—the way his hand felt against her waist, the sandalwood scent that teased her nostrils and how he moved, his leg brushing against her skirts.
She missed her step and clung to him to keep herself from falling. His arm instantly tightened, pulling her more fully against his body.
‘Does your ankle pain you, Henri?’
‘No, it is stronger than I thought it would be.’ She leant back slightly, putting a little air between them. ‘Shall we continue?’
His lips brushed her temple. ‘The music has stopped.’
‘It has?’ she whispered, but did not move away from him. Her entire being trembled. Leave now and she’d regret it for the rest of her life. She wanted to be here, with him.
‘It has,’ he confirmed and his arm drew her more firmly into his embrace. Her curves hit the hard planes of his body, moulding to him, and he held her against him. ‘What shall we do?’
In response, she lifted her mouth and put her arm about his neck. His lips touched hers—warm and inviting. Time stopped. And all her being concentrated on this one point of contact. She parted her lips and tasted the sweetness of his mouth. An intense flame flickered though her. Their tongues touched and tangled. Slowly explored.
All the pent-up demand and hunger of her dreams coursed through her, blotting out everything else. The only thing that mattered was the sensation of his mouth moving against hers. And she knew she wanted to live for the now rather than looking over her shoulder, wondering what some unknown person might think about her behaviour. This wasn’t wicked. It was wonderful.
Somewhere in the depths of the house a door slammed, startling her, bringing her back to sensibility.
Using all of her will-power, Henri stepped away from his arms. The cold air rushed around her and she shivered slightly. Of all the mistakes she had made, this was potentially the largest and most life altering. Her stomach knotted in confusion. ‘I must…I must retire for the night.’
‘As you wish.’ He stood, unmoving, neither preventing her from leaving nor asking her to stay.
Henri crossed her arms over her aching breasts. ‘What else is there to do?’
A distinct gleam came into his eyes. ‘As you say, what else? What else could we possibly do? It’s late. Your choice.’
