His eyes locked with hers, offering a promise she didn’t know if she had the courage to accept. She couldn’t draw in a single breath. Suddenly coming here seemed an incredibly reckless venture, yet in spite of the pounding of her heart, which she was rather certain he could feel traveling all the way to her fingertips, she couldn’t bring herself to break free and leave. She was all of twenty-five and not once, in all her years upon this earth, had she ever been thoroughly seduced. She couldn’t even claim to have been slightly seduced.

The final strains of the tune wafted on the air, lingering like the scent of a flower whose blossom had closed up for the night. They ceased their movements, but he didn’t loosen his hold one iota. “You don’t know me.” Her voice sounded raw, as though she’d not used it in ages. “You can’t know what I warrant.”

“Every woman merits more than a bedding. Each is deserving of seduction. All that said, I suspect I know you far better than you think.”

She was grateful the mask hid her reaction, that he couldn’t see how much she longed for someone to truly know her, to be aware of her thoughts, fears, and dreams.

“As for your earlier question regarding my interest in bedding you—rest assured it is strong and powerful. If you were to turn your attentions to another man here, I might, regretfully, find myself having to kill him.”

She was remarkably ashamed of the satisfaction that swept through her because he might be jealous of another.

Another tune started up, and he was again gliding her over the floor. She had danced with gentlemen more accomplished and polished when it came to the waltz, but it had all been merely movement and motion, adhering to the formalities of the steps. His style was more feral, raw, and alluring. He held her gaze as though to look away would signal defeat. Their proximity to each other was scandalously close, not that it truly mattered here. There was an earthiness, a primitiveness to the way all the couples moved in tandem around the ballroom. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see how each of the other gents looked at his partner as though she hung the moon and the stars.

But Aiden Trewlove had perfected his regard to reflect that of a man truly smitten. Even if only for a moment, the length of a dance, a woman felt treasured. She felt treasured. She hadn’t expected that tonight, didn’t want it. It made her feel weak when it was imperative that she remain strong in order to do what needed to be done.