“Catherine,” he repeated softly, stepping closer, so close that Catherine could nearly feel his breath on her cheek. Suddenly, she realized who he was. Lord Bringham, the man listed in the book whose portrait showed no smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Catherine,” he said, stepping even closer to her. He was incredibly handsome, more handsome than in the photo. “I hope to learn more about you.”
Her gaze met his, his eyes a gorgeous deep blue. He was a stark difference from the monstrosity she had just finished dancing with. She didn’t want to go back to the ball. She wanted to stay here with him.
“We can have a dance here,” she said, rather boldly. “I can still make out the music.”
“A novel idea,” he said, raising his eyebrow at his pun and lifted up his hand for her to take. When she let her fingers encircle his, she felt a strange shiver of lust zip up her arm and into her chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, feeling his hot breath against her cheek. They stood there, quietly frozen for a half-second, before carnal nature took over. They moved their heads forward and their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.
