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Daniel turned to her. ‘I would, of course, be honoured.’
He held out his hand and his blue eyes glinted with challenge and more than a hint of anger. It enabled her to move towards him, hand outstretched.
‘Likewise.’
As they walked to the dance floor she couldn’t help but ask.
‘Was this your idea?’
‘No. Roberto asked me if I could waltz. If I’d known what he proposed I wouldn’t have said yes. The only reason I can dance is that my PA dragged me along to classes when her husband somewhat conveniently broke his leg just before they were about to embark on a course. I won’t disgrace you—don’t worry.’
In truth Kaitlin was more worried about disgracing herself as the strains of Strauss’s waltz began and they took to the floor. Poignancy pierced her as she placed her hand in his, the gap between their bodies so small and yet so full of significance. Because it was a gap that they would never close again.
For an instant she wasn’t sure she could do it; she wanted to drop his hand and run but that wasn’t possible. Dammit, she had too much pride. She could picture the headlines, taste the humiliation. Reporters would no doubt attribute it to her feelings for Prince Frederick, but Daniel wouldn’t. He would guess the truth and she wouldn’t let that happen. All this emotion had to be stopped, controlled, bottled up—starting now.
But as she stepped forward in one graceful, fluid movement she could swear she heard the crack of her heart.
* * *
Finally the night was over. The music, the chatter, the thud of the auctioneer’s gavel and the sound of shoes on the dance floor were just faint memories that lingered like wraiths.
Daniel looked across at Kaitlin, standing in the shadows of the balcony that overlooked the ballroom, leaning against the ornate railings with the backdrop of silk hangings behind her.
‘There’s nothing left to do,’ he said.
No one else remained. The last tasks had been completed, the last guest had departed, the staff had gone to recapture their strength for breakfast in a few scant hours. The silence was almost eerie, broken only by the thud of his heart as he surveyed her—so very beautiful in the lace concoction that showcased her poise and emphasised the vividness of her hair.
Confusion churned in his gut as he tried to work out what the hell had happened that morning to make Kaitlin so unapproachable, to make her withdraw and remain behind that mask of aristocracy.
‘We need to talk.’
She turned in one graceful movement, her expression unreadable. ‘No we don’t. The ball is over and now we’ll go our separate ways.’
Separate ways. The words filled him with a sudden bleakness.
‘Then before we do that I’d like to talk.’
‘There is nothing to talk about.’
‘I disagree.’
She hesitated and then shrugged—a fatalistic lift of her shoulders. ‘OK. Talk.’
‘I want to know what happened this morning.’
A roll of her green eyes. ‘Nothing happened except the fact that the night was over. It’s time to face forward and that means saying goodbye. It’s time for us both to get back to real life. Normal life.’
Something was wrong; his senses were on edge. And it wasn’t only something wrong with Kaitlin—frustration built inside him at the idea of the vibrant woman he had come to know these past days morphing back into Lady Kaitlin Derwent.
‘Is that really what you want—to go back to your “normal” life?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Then it shouldn’t be.’
The frustration, the knowledge that he didn’t want to say goodbye, the fact that he felt befuddled by emotions he didn’t understand all made his voice sound harsh. But he didn’t care.
‘You are more than that, Kaitlin—you have the potential to soar. This past week you’ve been out of your comfort zone and in your element. You can be whatever you want to be.’
