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Chapter 11

"Lieutenant," he said with an unmistakable thrum of pleasure in his voice as they righted themselves and regrouped in such a way that Chloe stood next to Jean-Paul facing Imogene. "We have to stop meeting this way."

Chloe's brows flew upward.

"Major," Imogene replied, avoiding using his name. "We were just leaving."

"So soon?" His expression fell. "But the dancing has only just begun. And you and—Mamsille Matin, is it not—are far too beautiful tonight to go before you grant some of us men the pleasure of your company on the dance floor."

He turned toward Chloe and bowed shallowly. "Mamsille Matin, I will introduce myself, as the lieutenant seems to have neglected to do so. Major Jean-Paul du Laq, at your service."

Chloe's brows flew higher, and she mouthed, "du Laq?" at Imogene before schooling her face back to a polite smile as Jean-Paul straightened. "A pleasure, Major du Laq."

Jean-Paul smiled at her, but then his attention arrowed back to Imogene. "Can I not persuade you to stay, Lieutenant?"

Chloe smirked at Imogene. Cleary her friend had made the connection that Jean-Paul was Imogene's mystery man. And worse, it was obvious that Chloe knew who he was.

Now she would never hear the end of it. Even if they left right now, Chloe wouldn't let Imogene get away with avoiding the subject of why the son of a duq was interested in her. Worse, the uncomfortable truth was that Imogene, faced with Jean-Paul again, didn't want to get away.

But as much as she wanted nothing more than to let Jean-Paul take her hand and lead her where he would because, really, she kept forgetting just how handsome he was, she maintained a semblance of control. "I'm afraid not. Circumstances have altered, it seems."

"Circumstances?" He looked confused. "Do you have a more pressing engagement elsewhere?"

"No, she doesn't," Chloe said cheerfully, grin widening.

"I do," Imogene insisted. "Chloe is just trying to be polite, Major, but we really must go." She narrowed her eyes at Chloe.

Jean-Paul's eyes narrowed, too. "I do not wish to keep you, Lieutenant, but I would appreciate it if you would grant me a minute of your time first. Alone," he added.

"I don't—"

"Think of it less as a request and more as an instruction from a superior officer," he said, voice rumbling through her.

There was no way to refuse that. He outranked her. "Sir," she said stiffly.

"I'll go arrange for our carriage to be summoned," Chloe said, making it clear that she was not going to come to Imogene's rescue. She hurried away down the corridor, leaving Imogene with Jean-Paul.

"Well?" she said. "Do you have any more orders for me, Major?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic." He jerked his head toward a door a few feet behind her. "We can talk in there."

She should say no and go after Chloe, and then this mad temptation would be done with. But he did outrank her and could cause problems if she ignored him. Of course, if he was the kind of man who would cause her problems over this, then she was well rid of him.

But despite all of that, she wasn't ready to step away from her fascination. So she followed him into the room and let him close the door behind them. It was one of the many rooms used by the court for meetings and business and politicking in the polite-on-the-surface aristo fashion. Furnished with a table just big enough for the four chairs tucked against its edges, plus a small sofa and pair of armchairs closer to the fireplace. Which was lit despite the unlikelihood of anyone seeking to use this room tonight.

She moved toward the flickering light of the flames, sending power into the earth-lights as well. The room brightened.

Good. Better for them not to be alone in the dark just now.

Jean-Paul followed her over to the fire, standing silent beside her.

Imogene resisted the urge to step closer as she took in his scent. "You wanted to talk to me, sir?"

He winced. "I apologize for pulling rank. That was wrong of me. But I didn't want you to leave. Not without knowing why."

She hesitated. He sounded sincere enough, but this felt like more than she had bargained for. Explanations and misunderstandings, and they hadn't yet so much as kissed. For a brief liaison, it was rapidly growing complicated. A wise woman would make an excuse and then hurry to find Chloe as fast as she could. But she was discovering that, when it came to this man, perhaps she wasn't so wise. So perhaps she should just be honest. It was simplest in the end.

"It isn't you. It's the Andalyssians."