“Is your back all right?” Alex asked, ignoring her nonsensical comment about masked balls. Now he liked her even more. She was just the right height, tall, and when she raised her head her mouth was kissably close to his. Alex drew her over to the side of the hall and without even thinking, reached out to rub the middle of her back where she must have struck the stairs.

His hand instantly stopped. Her gown was so thin he could feel the rising swell of her bottom, and he was rocked by one of the most powerful surges of lust he had ever felt. He must be losing his mind, Alex decided. It had been too long since he had a woman.

Charlotte didn’t even feel his hand on her back, or notice when he snatched it away. “Did you … do you remember me?” she asked, finally, looking straight into his eyes.

Alex frowned again. He’d never met her, that was certain. He looked at her carefully. She had a delectable, triangular face enveloped in soft curls: a perfect straight nose, and high cheekbones. Her mouth was a natural dark red. Her eyebrows were exquisite: high and winged, a woman’s version of his own. For a second, some memory stirred, but …

“I’ve never met you,” Alex said, smiling at her. He wouldn’t forget meeting a woman as beautiful as this.

Charlotte’s mouth fell open slightly. He took someone’s virginity, and he didn’t even remember? What were men, anyway? Did he do that every week?

Alex took her arm again and led her toward the parlor to the right.

“You must have met my brother,” he said. “We’re twins.” He looked down at her and smiled. “You are not the first to mistake the two of us.”

Charlotte smiled back without thinking, and her heart gave a huge thump. “You are a twin?” she repeated. Her mind seemed to have gone numb.

“Yes,” Alex said cheerfully, having figured out the whole problem. The girl wasn’t insane; she was just thinking of Patrick. “Even our mother couldn’t always tell us apart.”

Charlotte looked up at him. She knew exactly who he was—well, she didn’t know who he was, but she knew that he was the one. She even recognized the dimple in his right cheek and the shape of his lips. But he didn’t seem to be pretending; he genuinely didn’t remember meeting her. Charlotte’s heart sunk. Her virginity had mattered so little that he didn’t even remember taking it.

Her steps slowed. Where were they going, anyway? She had to get back upstairs, to her mother. She calmly took her arm out of his grasp and brought them to a halt.