She waited for him to say more, maybe that he’d just been divorced too. But he didn’t. She could feel his hand in hers, and it didn’t have a ring on it.

He broke from her eyes just long enough to glance downward. “I see you are wearing one of the palace’s collection.”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to. But they insisted on it. They can be persuasive.”

“I imagine so. It is a beautiful piece, but truthfully, your beauty eclipses it. You do not need it.”

Her cheeks felt hot again. The waltz ended, and as the last violin note hung in the air, people applauded mildly. She reached into her purse and pulled out the fan she’d stashed there, and when she opened it, realized he was staring at her, a pensive look on his face. The blush came full-on now, so she waved the fan in her face. “I’m sure you’ve been to many of these, so you know how things work. What do we do, now?”

He chuckled softly, “Well, it depends on who you are. Most of society—the good ones, anyway—will sit around here and prattle on about dull topics all evening. But the daring ones?” He arched his brow in a mysterious way, “They would do something else.”

Now she was curious, “What, exactly?”

“The daring ones would take the chance and meet on the balcony, right out those doors. It is dark there, and there are plenty of little nooks and alcoves where people can get away from the crowds. They’d meet out there under the cover of darkness . . .”

She stared at him. Was he really suggesting a tryst? No, a rendezvous? With a man she’d just met? “What do you—”

He silenced her by putting a finger gently to her lips, “I’ll go now. Wait five minutes, and then join me?” He leaned over and placed a sweet peck on her forehead, and smiled a coy smile, “Five minutes. Don’t forget.”

And then he left her, weaving his way through the crowded dance floor. She watched him climb the stairs and disappear, her heart beating like mad.

She only realized that the dancing had started again when someone bumped into her. Everyone else had begun to move, except her. Quickly, she grabbed her skirts and made her way around the waltzing couples, trying to escape. All the while, thoughts swirled in her head.

A rendezvous.

Evan hadn’t exactly been romantic in that way. And she hadn’t even kissed any man other than Evan since . . . Stéphane. To say she was rusty was an understatement.

But she’d come for an adventure. For something new. And while it might not have been her college boyfriend, it was her dream come true.

This was going to be an evening she remembered the rest of her life. And she was going to make the most of it. Make this night unforgettable . . .

This time, no regrets.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Diana escaped down the long foyer, rushing past gilded wall panels, priceless works of art, and couples in their elegant costumes, and found the public restrooms. When she was safely in there, away from the ball, she let out the breath she’d been holding, stood in front of the mirror, fanning her flushed face madly.