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And she’d come with a reasonably good plan to find her own love interest. At least she hoped it was good. She’d convinced her father to have a ball to celebrate the impending matches in her family. She’d sent invitations to anyone within a day’s ride of their home and in particular, Lord Dashlane.

Odd, but her pulse didn’t throb the way it normally did at the thought of his handsome features. In fact, she had a hard time even picturing his face. What was that about?

“You want to find love?” He was so close and his breath whispered across her cheeks, the smell of cigar and cherry tickling her nostrils.

“Of course,” she said, then stopped. She’d tried nearly everything to get Dashlane’s attention, but nothing had worked. She’d hidden her cat and forced him to help look, she’d invited him to dinner and done her absolute best to flirt, and now she was holding a ball, all to try and claim a dance.

She pursed her lips. She might actually understand Hartwell’s reluctance to believe in love after all. If she continued to try to find it without success, she might grow equally despondent. But then again, love surrounded her and she knew if she persisted it could be hers too.

“My turn for a question,” he said, low but he was so close she heard him.

“What?” she asked, closing her eyes, her breath catching a bit. What would he ask? More about her family? Her sister?

“Did your parents love one another?”

She squeezed his forearm again. “Oh yes. Very much. And their bond, it forged all of us.” She saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The way his pupils dilated. He wanted to believe her.

“And you think Chase has found that kind of bond with Ophelia?”

She licked her lips before she answered until his gaze drifted down following the path. Why did the look in his eye make her insides flutter? “I do.”

He gave a tentative nod. “Thank you for your honesty. I will talk to Chase with a more open mind.”

He stepped back and the breeze hit her making her shiver and she wrapped her arms about her front. Did Juliet miss his touch? How very odd.

Chapter Four

Dane spent the rest of the brunch quietly observing. It wasn’t his nature to be in the middle of a party even under the best of circumstances. He was too serious for parties, preferring quiet family gatherings to large social functions. He’d been that way since childhood but he’d grown even more withdrawn since the death of his parents. As though he must be the parent for his cousin and his sister.

But standing in the Moorish music room, he found that he enjoyed watching the Moorish clan. They were a much larger group than he usually surrounded himself with but there was an intimacy here, an easiness he hadn’t anticipated.

And his feeling on the topic of love clarified as he watched. He did believe in love of some forms. Familial bonds were the strongest in his life and they defined him in ways he couldn’t describe. What he didn’t believe was that romantic fancy was the base of that affection. It came from hard work, commitment, not attraction. That was a distraction that ruined lives and masked real intentions. He’d learned that from Tiffany. His attraction to her, it had allowed her to manipulate and nearly destroy him.

The family shared a deep bond. They teased, poked, helped, and laughed together. He had that with Charlie, of course. And Chase. But somehow, it was different just by the sheer number of people basking in the glow of their affection.

And Juliet was often at the center of it all. Not that he needed an excuse to watch her. He’d be a fool not to understand the attraction that had sprung up between them. She was beautiful, intelligent, provocative, and…warm. There was something so honest about her that she nearly stole his breath.

He shook his head. He’d allowed her talk of feelings to steal his good sense. “Let’s play a game,” she called, clapping her hands. “What about charades?”

A clapping rose from the group and Juliet began dividing up teams. Then she stepped into the center of the circle as Ophelia, on the other team, whispered something into her ear. Wrinkling her nose, she gave a nod. Her team leaned in, preparing to guess when Juliet dropped to all fours, leaning her face toward the floor. Then, as if the sight of her with her derriere in the air weren’t enough. She stuck out her tongue and pretended to lap.

Every muscle in his body clenched. He might not believe in love but he both accepted and understood lust. And that he had for this woman in spades.

“Cat,” Chase called.

Juliet tilted her chin and gave him an encouraging nod and white-hot jealousy ripped through Dane.

“Mittens,” a slender blonde added, holding up her finger.

“Yes.” Juliet stood, clapping again. “Well done.”

Never in his life had he acted with such abandon. While he sometimes judged Chase and Charlie harshly for being more free-spirited, he realized he was also a bit jealous. He measured every action, and in this moment, he wondered if he missed out on some of the fun. But he’d had to be the one that acted in a measured fashion. His family had needed him to be the voice of reason.

Juliet’s dancing green eyes clashed with his and suddenly she broke from the circle, rushing toward him. For a moment, he straightened, holding up one hand to stop her but she barreled past his barrier, placing her hand around his elbow and pulling him toward the circle. “Join us, Lord Hartwell. It’s quite fun.”

Charlie laughed. “You’re wasting your efforts, Miss Moorish. My brother never does anything fun.”

“That isn’t true,” Chase replied. “Your brother is very fun.” Then he clapped Dane on the back.

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