“I’ll take the servants’ stairs and meet you in the ballroom in ten minutes,” Elise said. “The trick of slipping away is to never get caught, or all sorts of rumors will circulate in the ballroom.”

“It’s all rather tiring, isn’t it? The games?” Harry held her gaze. “Is that why you left home and changed your name?”

Her color heightened and pinked her cheeks. “Among other things. You see too much, Benson.”

Benson. She called him that when she sought to put distance between them—whenever he got too close. His heart lightened considerably, and he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, a spontaneous act he had stifled in the past.

Her beautiful mouth curved before she repressed it. He could almost swear she was pleased.

“I’m looking forward to our dances,” he whispered, crowding her the least little bit to see what she would do.

For the merest second, her mask slipped, and vulnerability lit her eyes.

He touched her chin. “See you downstairs.”

She inhaled shakily. “Don’t forget the plate.”

Elise made it all the way down the corridor before she stopped and leaned against the wall for support. Butterflies swarmed once more inside her stomach. She pressed her belly to keep them from taking flight. She closed her eyes and relived the expression on Harry’s face just before he had kissed her palm.

Her eyes popped open, and she shook herself. This was silly.

A few months ago, he had kissed her on an undercover assignment. It wasn’t absolutely necessary, and she had snarled at him to keep him in line. Despite her behavior, his action had stirred emotions she had kept under tight control since they were made partners. Shortly thereafter, he’d departed for Lebatu.

When she’d run into him at SIS headquarters recently, all those emotions had come rushing back.

His kisses tonight had nothing to do with an assignment. And she wasn’t sorry—not one wee bit—even though he’d left her vulnerable and somewhat lost, agreeing to things an agent like her had no right to desire.

Tonight, he had shaken her very foundations. Harry Benson was a fraud. The man she had loved still existed, lurking in the shadows beneath the toughened veneer. His hardened exterior had fooled her last year during his training.

And she? Elise exhaled loudly, her hands shaking slightly. She was every bit as susceptible today when it came to Harry Benson as she had been at eighteen.

Returning to the ballroom terrified her. She needed time to lock her emotions back in place or Harry would read the fear in her eyes. She considered sending down a note claiming her hips hurt and that she needed to retire for the night. But Harry would see through that ruse and know her for the coward she was.