Page 30 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
He guided her onto the dance floor and swept her effortlessly into a waltz, and Ellie threw caution to the wind. Professional pride demanded that she play her partwell, so tonight she would be Carlotta, a woman so confident of her own appeal that she had men eating out of the palm of her hand.
She lifted her chin, straightened her spine, and sent Harry a glittering smile.
His fingers tightened on hers. “Perfect,” he murmured.
The room blurred even more as they swirled around in perfect unison.
“Please tell me these jewels I’m wearing aren’t stolen,” she said breathlessly.
He clucked his tongue in a chiding sound. “Of course not. We’re just borrowing them for the night.”
“With the owner’s permission?” she pressed, suspicious of his ability to skirt the truth.
“Of course. They belong to a friend. He’s not yet married, so he’s glad they’re getting some use, instead of sitting in a dusty bank vault.”
Her skin grew warm as his hot gaze traveled over her throat and chest. “You’re certainly doing them justice tonight. I’ll have to be careful someone doesn’t steal you away. ‘Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.’”
Ellie tried to place the quote. “Shakespeare?”
He nodded. “As You Like It.”
A bubble of happiness swelled in her chest. The waltz was her favorite, but she’d rarely danced it in public, and the music made her feel reckless and wild and free.
Perhaps Harry was right about needing tolive,instead of just existing.
She didn’t for a moment believe his flattery was serious—he probably complimented his horse and his valet with equal fluency—but still, it was nice to feel attractive for once.
His warm palm pressing the lower curve of her back felt ridiculously intimate, while the muscles of his shoulderflexing beneath her hand made her stomach somersault. His chest was mere inches from her own, but she leaned closer still, to bring him into focus, inhaling the delicious scent that always clung to him.
She stared into his eyes, studying him intently, and his dimples reappeared.
“Are you pretending to be a love-besotted fool? Or is it just because you can’t see without your glasses?”
“Your eyes,” Ellie said, ignoring his teasing, “have been vexing me for some time.”
“How exciting. Haunting your dreams, I hope?”
She gave an unladylike snort. “I couldn’t tell if they were blue or green or even hazel, and now I see why. They’re two different colors. It’s extraordinary.”
His teeth flashed in a smile. “Ah, yes. A curiosity, is it not? There’s a fancy Latin name for it, but I forget what it is.”
He stared back at her, allowing her to look her fill, and she tried to ignore the sensation that she was falling into his gaze. Or under his spell.
“If you look closely,” he said softly, “you’ll see that both eyes are blue, with gold and brown flecks. But my left eye has so many flecks it appears hazel—more brown or green.”
He blinked, and she noticed with a stab of envy how long his eyelashes were.
“I can’t tell you how useful it’s been in my previous career,” he smiled. “Whenever people tried to describe me to the authorities, they could never agree on what color they were. It made them far less credible as witnesses. And made me far less susceptible to prosecution.”
“A very convenient quirk of nature.”
He shrugged. “In some cultures, having mismatchedeyes is thought to be a sign of witchcraft. Some think it means I have the ability to see both heaven and earth.”
“Have you found that to be the case?”
“Sadly not. My talents for trickery have all been gained through tedious practice and dull repetition. Nothing as exciting as making a pact with the devil, I’m afraid.”
His eyes still held hers, and the butterflies in her stomach increased at the intensity of his regard. It would not be difficult to imagine him a sorcerer, with the ability to read her mind, or steal her heart.