“Stop looking back,” he murmured. “I want your whole attention. One cannot dance the waltz without.”

She swallowed, wishing her insides didn’t tremble. Little did he know it, but his presence emptied her mind of everything. As his body brushed against hers, her skin burst into flames, her heart raced. He was so close, so—intoxicating. He smelt of wood and vanilla and something she couldn’t place. She yearned to press herself closer, to feel his chest compressing hers. Oh my goodness, to feel his lips . . .

She moistened hers with her tongue. Immediately, his gaze riveted to her mouth; he pulled her a fraction closer. Now she was going to faint! Her feet faltered, but his strong arms all-but lifted her from the floor, covering her hesitation as he swept her along until she found her rhythm once more. She sucked in a breath.

“Is something wrong, little temptress? You seem flustered.” He leaned in towards her ear. “Could you possibly be affected by me?”

Oh, how she wanted to stamp on his foot, the insufferable man! How dare he suggest her senses were perturbed? Even if they were, it was no business of his. She thrust out her lower jaw. “Certainly not. I’m simply not accustomed to such overbearing treatment and I would appreciate it if you didn’t manhandle me, Sir.”

He chuckled, sending a shiver down her spine. “Would you rather I had let you fall? You would have been the talking point of the ball, I imagine. Is that what you’d like?” He allowed his hand to drop lower on her hip, causing her eyes to widen. “I assume your gown was designed to gain attention; it certainly brought Faulkner running, which, considering his lofty standing, is quite the triumph for you. I, of course, seeing your assets so exquisitely displayed, am imagining all sorts of inappropriate things.” He slid his fingers perilously low.

“Stop it,” she hissed, heat flooding her cheeks. “People are watching. If you can’t behave with propriety—”

“Yes? What will you do, my sweet?”

He whirled her round, making her head spin, though whether from the movement or his comments she couldn’t be sure. “Abandon you mid-dance,” she muttered, unable to think of a better retort.

His fingers gave an infuriating wriggle. “And then I’d be able to watch your delectable rear as you stalked off.” 

She gasped, her fingers tightening on his sleeve. “You are unconscionable!”

“True. but you knew my reputation before you foisted yourself upon me, and if I’m not mistaken, you enjoy being naughty.” His breath fanned her neck. “My lady, you look flushed. I believe some fresh air would be beneficial.” So saying, he swung her through the other dancers until they neared the French windows that led to the terrace, where he eased her to a halt. “After you.”