“My husband has a great appreciation of the arts,” Ginny replied with a smile that felt frozen on her lips. Damn Steve, had he brought that…that creature to London? Oh, it would be just like him to do such a thing, careless of the consequences, or how it affected her. She felt like scratching that smug smile from the Italian whore’s mouth!

As if reading her mind, Steve suddenly appeared at their side on the dance floor as the waltz ended. “I believe this next dance is mine, my love. I’m certain you don’t mind, Lord Hartsfield.”

If Hartsfield was disappointed, he didn’t show it, but relinquished Ginny’s hand with a murmur of gratitude for her company.

Steve pulled her against him, his eyes dark blue and glittering with amusement as he looked down at her. “You look as if you could rip me in two, Ginny-love.”

“Why is she here, and with you? Is that the important business you had? I swear, Steve, I just don’t think I can—”

“Not here.” His hand tightened briefly around her waist, a warning squeeze that reminded her where they were. His tone was soft, a lazy, amused drawl. “The arrangements were made months ago, before I knew that you would ever return from Stamboul.”

“And now that I’m back?”

“Everything has changed, green-eyes.”

She caught her breath at the sudden intimacy of his tone, the intense glance he gave her. “What do you mean everything?”

“Ginny, we’ve danced around this subject for the past month. This is hardly the time or place to discuss it now.”

He was right, of course. But it was the first sign he had given her that he truly wanted her to stay, to be with him. Ginny’s hand trembled on his shoulder, her fingers pale on the dark cloth of his coat, the emerald ring she wore a great, winking green eye.

Carelessly, as if he did not care if she accepted it, he’d given her the ring the week before, saying, “I bought it a long time ago for you, and almost forgot it until my valet found it with some pieces of my mother’s jewelry.”

Any comments had stuck in her throat, the desire to blurt out questions overriding her appreciation of the beautiful, square-cut emerald that looked so large on her small hand. She had been too cowardly then to ask the questions that were always on her mind, but now?

“Steve, it’s getting very late. We aren’t expected to stay here all night, are we?”

“Tired of the wealthy elite already?” His mouth crooked in a teasing smile. “You’ve always looked quite at home with the aristocrats, my love.”