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“Did Embly miss a spot?”
“What?” Her chocolatey gaze flew to his. “I don’t…”
Giving her his most charming grin, Constantine drew her closer.
“You were staring at my chin, Faith.”
“Oh.”
Pressing his palm to the small of her back, he lowered his head until his mouth touched her hair. Unable to resist, he touched lips to her crown.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
Encouraged, he kissed her hair again, not caring who bloody well saw. For tonight, she was his betrothed, and he blasted well intended to act like a man wholly besotted.
Because he was.
The essences of rose, heliotrope, and bergamot surrounded him—a heady aphrodisiac— though he was positive she hadn’t meant the delicate fragrance to have that effect.
“I’m terribly sorry, my precious love,” he whispered. “I vow I didn’t mean to hurt you. Forgive me.”
Faith missed a step, her confused gaze seeking his. “I…”
“Shh, don’t say anything. Not yet. Let me explain first. Please.”
She cast a covert glance around. “We’re being watched.”
Constantine had expected as much. He shifted his attention to scan the room.
Mother stood to the side, keenly observing him, a pleased smile bending her lightly rouged mouth. She veered her gaze toward the open doors, swung her focus to Faith, then pointedly to the doors again. Eyebrows peaked, she silently shouted across the room.
Take her outside.
Not exactly subtle.
Mother was actually encouraging him to sweep Faith onto the terrace.
Always a dutiful son, Constantine obliged with the next wide turn of the dance.
“What are you doing?” Faith hissed beneath her breath, digging her heels in and refusing to budge. She sent a nervous, furtive glance around. “I agreed to a dance, not a clandestine meeting.”
“We’ll dance out here, in full view of those on the terrace and in the ballroom, but I intend to have my say.”
The night was cool, but not uncomfortably so. As they had the other night, lanterns on the terrace and strategically placed in the small gardens provided muted light. The glowing orbs also added a romantic element and even a hint of mystery.
She elevated a skeptical eyebrow. “Didn’t you do that this morning?”
“I made an arse of myself this morning.” Constantine drew her into his arms once more, reveling in the wonder that was this woman.
Faith didn’t resist, but neither did she look enthusiastic.
“Yes, you did,” she agreed with a sniff. “You have until the end of this dance, Lord Constantine, to say what you will. Then I’m going inside and avoiding you for the rest of the evening.”
Hurt trickled into her last words, rendering them slightly husky.
He tipped her chin upward, losing himself in the mesmerizing pools of her eyes. He wasn’t a man proficient at flowery phrases, but he could say the words that mattered.
“I love you, Faith.”
