“Charlotte,” he whispered into her small ear. She was still holding her head down, but she must be able to feel his body as clearly as he felt hers. But did she know what she felt?

His tongue ran around the delicate pink whirl of her ear and her whole body trembled in response. Alex let his hands slide down her back.

“Charlotte,” he said again, lingeringly. “Do you know what you are doing to me? I feel like some kind of satyr from a classical play—the kind of play they never let you read in school.” His hands had reached that delicious spot in her back where her bottom swelled gently. “There was a good reason for not reading those plays too. Satyrs are hairy, lusty beasts, after all, and there’s no telling what young women might think, reading about them.” He couldn’t help it; he pulled her against his body again. “They might even run into the woods looking for them….” His tongue traced a burning path down her neck. “Oh, God!” he said aloud, putting her away from him.

Charlotte looked up, totally bewildered. His eyes were black as ebony as he stood back, running his hand through his hair. In the moonlight the silver gleamed coldly. Charlotte reached up and touched a strand.

“Has your hair always been this color?” she asked.

“It turned this way when I was seventeen,” Alex answered, staring down at Charlotte. Was she untouched by the desire he felt? He grabbed her wrists, roughly. “Don’t … don’t look at my hair, Charlotte.”

She was looking at his hair because she felt too shy to meet his eyes. And when she did, what she saw there made her feel dizzy with excitement. Alex smiled a little, to himself. His girl wasn’t unaffected, no. He was right about her. She would be wild in his bed and intelligent at his table. He couldn’t do better for a wife. She wasn’t at all like Maria, although … he looked closer. She did have a triangular face, as did Maria, and her lower lip was wide and generous, just like Maria’s. But that means nothing, his mind hastily assured him. Hundreds of women have those features.

Now he had to calm them both down so that he could saunter out there under the lanterns and tell the party to expect fireworks. He moved farther back and leaned against a tree. He could tell she had no idea what was going on.

“My lord,” she said tentatively.

Alex crushed a pulse of disappointment. What had happened to “Alex”?

“Shall we join the others?”

He stayed perfectly still, leaning easily against the apple tree. “I can’t,” he said simply.

She looked at him, her eyes wild with speculation.