Page 55 of An Extraordinary Lord

Good God, she was lovely, dancing as fluidly as she wielded a sword. Yet every sweeping step was graceful and utterly feminine, made even more so because he’d witnessed firsthand the other side of her. That fierce woman warrior who even now lurked beneath the soft satin of her gown.

He’d never met another woman like her and knew he never would again. She was as singular as this night.

Damn it that his attraction for her wasn’t merely physical, that it was so much more than mere beauty and mystery. It was her sharp mind that had him eagerly anticipating every bantering conversation with her, along with a bravery he’d rarely witnessed outside the men he’d served with in the wars. He’d seen her interact with the people at the Court of Miracles and knew how she took care of them, and her loyalty to Fernsby went beyond whatever favor he’d done for her; she was caring for an old man who would have otherwise died on the street.

But he’d also read the court report of her trial with his own eyes, knew she’d pled guilty. According to the evidence, Veronica was a criminal, no matter how much he wished she wasn’t.

Yet none of that kept him from wanting her.

Sensing the unease in him, she asked quietly, “Why do I have the feeling sometimes that you’re not happy with me, like now?”

“I wanted you to blend into the crowd tonight,” he dodged. “And you certainly do not blend.”

Unable to help himself, he dropped a heated glance down her front, as far as he could while still leading her through the waltz. God only knew what wolfish expression darkened his face, but it was fierce enough that she shivered in his arms.

“That’s not what I meant,” she corrected in a husky voice, evidence that she was just as affected by the dance as he. “You tease me and spar with me, in every way, yet you don’t seem to like me very much.”

Notlikeher? Sweet Lucifer, he nearly laughed! She had no idea… He lowered his mouth as close to her ear as the waltz allowed. “A woman who insists on having her way with me in dark alleys? A man would have to be dead not to like that.”

She eased away from him, and her green eyes darkened. No amusement was visible anywhere in her at the teasing flirtation that was meant to distract her.

“Even now, after spending so much time together,” she said quietly enough that he could barely hear her over the orchestra, “you still believe that I couldn’t possibly be anyone except a criminal, that I deserve to be scorned.”

He said nothing to defend himself.

“It must be so easy in your world,” she mused somberly, “where everything is black or white, guilty or innocent, with no blurring of the ground in between. But believe me that the world is filled with shades of gray.” She looked away. “Whether we like it or not.”

The waltz ended, the orchestra finishing with a flourish of notes. The dancers all circled to a stop with bows and curtsies.

When Veronica began to move off the dance floor, he stopped her with a touch to her arm. She stiffened but didn’t turn to look at him.

And thank God she didn’t when he lowered his mouth over her shoulder and admitted, “I did feel that way about you, when I first learned who you were and what you’d done.” He didn’t release her even as the other couples around them moved off the floor, even when he saw her bosom rise and fall with wary breaths at his confession. “Youwerenothing to me then but a criminal who deserved to be used, who didn’t warrant my concern. And certainly not my respect.”

“And now?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know what to think.” He confessed in a low voice, “Except that I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Fifteen

Veronica glanced over her shoulder at Merritt, and his haunted expression stole her breath away. She could read the truth in every emotion that stirred on his face and in the intensity with which he stared at her…desire, the hesitancy to trust, and warring confusion.

“If I told you I was innocent,” she whispered breathlessly, hesitating at each word over the enormity of what she was asking, “if I could convince you of it…”Would it make a difference to you? Would you look at me just once as something other than a creature to be scorned?

But if she convinced him, she’d be offering up Filipe to the flames in her place. More—she’d have to reveal everything from her past.Everything.And then she’d no longer be a woman to be scorned but one to be despised.

“Never mind.” She blinked rapidly as she walked away before he could see any glistening in her eyes.

But the frustrating devil wouldn’t let her escape her misery and strode after her to once more take her arm and be the perfect model of a society gentleman escorting his partner from the dance floor.

“Perhaps,” he admitted reluctantly, “you could try.”

Her heart somersaulted. Oh, the foolish thing! Agreeing onperhapswas nothing more than an empty illusion, as ephemeral and unrealistic as the goldfish in their drawing room stream. Their two worlds clashed and always would. No fairy-tale evening could change that.

Yet knowing how much it cost him to soften even that little bit toward her, she nodded and lied, “Perhaps I will.”

Wordlessly, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips to place a kiss to the backs of her fingers—

He froze.