Her eyes flickered with almost-recognition, but a glare replaced itas soon as it appeared. “And how do you imagine you’ve saved me? As soon as I’m off your arm, I’ll be on another.”
“You won’t,” he promised. “You’ll see.”
“And why is that?”
“Because they’re all too afraid of me to contest my interest.”
“Lucky me.” She rolled her eyes. “How could you possibly have an interest, a big scary man like you?” she cooed acidly. “Let me guess, it was my beauty that drew you to me. Definitely isn’t my charm. Wouldn’t have anything to do with my father, my dowry, or—”
“I don’t need your father’s money,” he bit out. And because it was true, he added smugly, “And I’ve never struggled for his favor.”
“You would be the first,” she muttered.
He wanted to tell her that not only did he have her father’s favor but also his blessing. If only he had asked her years ago, when he had the chance. But there were a thousand‘if-onlys’in his life that only ever amounted to ‘never.’
During their next turn, she scrunched her nose. “You smell familiar. Almost like… cedarwood.”
He smirked.
“My pomade. I’ve worn it since I was a boy. I’ve never had anyone comment on it.”
The song slowed and then stopped. She stepped away from him, but he grabbed her hand, unwilling to part with her.
“Not yet. One more.”
He held her hand in the middle of the ballroom floor, anchoring her to him as dancers rotated partners. Eyes focused on them. The gossip would spread like a flame, but he didn’t care. Jasmine stomped to face him, with her other hand flat, poised to strike. Her chest rose—andgood Lord,wasn’t that the most beautiful thing he had ever seen? As she pulled away, his hand firmed on hers, tugging her indecently close as the music started once more.
“How dare you?” she ground out, shoving him back a step. “I’ve been in London for two days, and you mean to embroil me in scandal immediately?”
“I’m only ensuring your wallflower status,” he said innocently. “If I wanted to start a scandal, I would kiss you.”
“Yes, me murdering you on the ballroom floor would causequitethe scandal.” Her grip turned bruising. “You hide your face behind a full mask. You must be monstrous underneath.”
“That is one of many things people say about me,” he admitted. “Are you searching for an attractive husband?”
“I’m not looking for a husband atall. And even if I were, I can promise you, it won’t be you.”
“Why would a woman not be searching for a husband at…” He paused as if he were analyzing her. As if he didn’t know her age, her birthday, or her favorite color. “Twenty-six?”
“My age is my business, my lord.” She stomped on his toes and sang, “Oh, clumsy me.”
Aside from the throbbing in his foot, the rest of his body thrilled at her reaction. There it was—that spark. How many men had she given the cut-direct to over the years? This was an old song and dance for her, expertly navigated with vicious precision.
No man had survived it.
Not in England, not in Spain.
“Why?” He had to know. “Why haven’t you found a husband?”
She lifted her nose in the air. “I haven’t found anyone worthy of me.”
“Unworthy! That’s a new one!” He barked a laugh. “I see you haven’t lost your talent for hurting a man’s pride.”
Her lips parted at the sound of his laughter, and her hand softened in his.
“Do I know you?” she whispered.
Her eyes lingered on his, and he wanted to remove both of their masks and kiss her. Right there, right now. Right in the middle of the ballroom, because there would be no faster or surer way to get her to the altar.
