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CHAPTER 16

As soon as the first strings of the waltz sounded through the room, Lavinia's heart skipped a bit. A thrill racing through her and making her feel more alive than she had ever felt.

"Do me the honor of dancing the first waltz with me, Miss Proctor," one of the gentlemen said.

"I have promised the dance to the Duke," she smiled. And just as soon as she said the words, she felt the large presence of the man himself behind her. It was almost as if her body had become attuned to him.

She turned around slowly and met that dark brown gaze that slid down her body almost leisurely.

"Your Grace," she said breathlessly.

His mouth twitched and he held out his arm to her wordlessly. She took it without hesitation and allowed him to lead her to the floor where other couples had begun to gather.

They parted for them, allowing them to get to the very center, her bright red dress standing out in the sea of pastels and lighter colored fabrics.

She felt like she was floating as the Duke took her in his arms. Were they too far apart? Or was it just her imagination? His palm against her back made her shiver and she knew right there and then that this thing wasn't just a mere attraction.

What it was, she couldn't tell yet.

She managed to tear her eyes away from his only to see dozens of eyes peering at them with obvious curiosity. She felt like a circus animal.

"Everyone is staring," Lavinia said.

"They are looking at you," his hand on her back pressed tighter against her. "How could they not? You look divine."

Her mouth parted in surprise. She had been called beautiful and lovely, but never had she been called divine with such naked honesty.

"Every man in this room wishes they were in my place," he continued, "with such an exquisite woman in their arms."

Heat flamed across her cheeks and she ducked her head shyly.

"I have never before in my life been so curious to know what someone else was thinking about."

She raised her head, "w-what?"

"What goes on in that head of yours, Lavinia?"

She tried to swallow, but there was a ball lodged in her throat. Her name rolling on his tongue was a caress against her senses. Her name had never sounded so indecent.

"Your Grace-"

"Victor," he cut in, "please."

They were too close and his eyes were too compelling and his scent was far more intoxicating than any alcohol ever formed. She couldn't form one complete thought, reduced to the blazing heat inside of her and the tingles buzzing on her skin.

"What are you doing to me?"

His eyes dropped down to her mouth, thick ashes lowering, "I could ask you the same thing."

At that moment, all sense of proprietary and the crowd around her disappeared. She and the Duke were the only two people inthe world and she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to cover her mouth with hers again and make her feel owned.

I cannot touch you again. This is not that kind of marriage.

His words from what seemed like years ago echoed through her head, threatening to burst the bubble around her, but she pushed the words aside.

They had come so far from that. He may have meant his words then, but so much has happened between them now. Surely he wouldn't still abide by those words.

"I want you to kiss me," she whispered boldly.