Page 8 of The Duke’s Defiant Love

"You are incorrigible."

"And yet," Tristan said, "women continue to invite us to dance."

"Some women," Nathaniel corrected.

"Enough."

Sebastian glanced toward the ballroom.

"Perhaps because they know precisely what you are."

Tristan grinned.

"And what are we?"

Sebastian considered them.

"Men who have spent enough time charming women to know that most women are considerably more perceptive than men give them credit for."

That silenced them for precisely one second.

Then Nathaniel raised his brows.

"That sounded almost complimentary."

"Do not tell anyone."

Tristan laughed.

"Too late."

Sebastian turned his glass between his fingers.

"Besides, a woman who has spent five minutes in your company knows more about you than you imagine."

"That," said a voice that belonged to none of them, "is a considerably better argument than the one you were making a moment ago."

Sebastian turned.

For the briefest, most inexplicable instant, thought deserted him.

She stood just beyond the edge of their circle, close enough that she had clearly heard every word and near enough that retreat would have required admitting she had been listening at all, which she plainly had no intention of doing.

She was beautiful.

Not merely pretty, nor fashionable in the polished, interchangeable manner the ballroom offered in abundance.

Beautiful.

The realization arrived with an abruptness that was almost irritating.

She wore purple, deep and rich against pale skin, a color most young ladies avoided as too bold for a debut season and which she wore as though the rest of the ballroom's pastels were the ones making the mistake. Her chestnut hair, dark and glossy in the candlelight, was pinned with a severity that suggested either an excellent lady's maid or a complete disinterest in the elaborate curls favored by every other woman in the room.

There was an uncommon harmony to her features that resisted immediate explanation. Her mouth was generous without excess, her nose delicately straight, her cheekbones lending quiet definition rather than severity. Nothing demanded attention on its own.

Together, however…together they rendered analysis unexpectedly difficult. His gaze reached her eyes.

Hazel.