It must have been this morning, he thought to himself with gritted teeth.
Ever since he had woken up to Evie’s sleepy touches, her luscious curves pressed against him, he had not been able to function well. She had managed to throw him completely off-balance—a most dangerous accomplishment if there ever was one.
“I apologize for that,” he muttered softly. “We should return before they notice our absence.”
He did not even wait for her reply. He simply turned on his heel like the coward that he was.
How he staggered back into the ballroom, he honestly could not recall.
All that he knew was that there was a thirst in him that no wine or liquor on this earth could quench. Still, he managed to grab a glass from a passing tray and managed to quickly finish it off.
“Good God, man!” he heard a familiar, jovial voice remark. “I have not seen you drink so much since that time we stumbled into that brothel in?—”
He turned around and glared coldly at Ethan Audley, the Duke of Sinclair, one of his supposedly closest friends. Right about now, he was not exactly acting like the true comrade-in-arms that Daniel had once thought him to be.
“What the hell happened to you?” his friend asked in a lower voice. “I have not seen you this flustered since—well, I must confess that I have never seen you agitated at all.”
Daniel set the glass down on a passing empty tray. “If you are going to aggravate me unnecessarily tonight, I suggest that you save your antics for another day,” he growled.
To his eternal vexation, Ethan merely laughed, his eyes twinkling merrily as he regarded him with a mischievous look.
“My, somebody is rather ill-tempered today.” He grinned. “You know what? Perhaps you should retire to bed and nurse your spirits—preferably with a nice lady to attend to your needs.”
If Ethan thought that his words of advice would help, then he was sorely mistaken.
No sooner had the words “bed” and “lady” left his lips than Daniel’s filthy mind immediately conjured up images of Evie writhing in his bed.
Naked.
“No,” he said curtly. “Not tonight.”
“Well, that’s too bad.” Ethan shrugged his broad shoulders. “The Marchioness is coming your way. Maybeshecan help you with that foul mood of yours.”
He followed his friend’s gaze to a dark-haired lady dressed magnificently in deep red velvet. On others, that dress might have been considered rather scandalous, but the Marchioness of Cobham still managed to pull it off with great aplomb.
Except that Daniel did not find any of that appealing tonight. In fact, he had not found a woman appealing for quite some time.
Maybe Ethan is right.Maybe I should see to these needs before I make a bigger fool of myself.
Unfortunately, none of his usual preferences were interesting enough.
“You are on your own, my good man.” Ethan grinned at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder before walking away.
For a moment, Daniel looked on absently after his friend had left. Among their group, Ethan was considered the charming one, wooing ladies left and right and leaving a trail of broken hearts along the way.
Daniel, however, did not subscribe to the same philosophy that his friend did. He did not believe in fostering a relationship beyond that of the transactional kind that offered the physical release he sought.
There was nothing wrong with either of those.
Except when he saw Ethan casually approaching a small group consisting of two elderly women and two much younger ladies, he could not help but wonder if he should try his hand at it.
And when Evie looked up at Ethan, a soft smile playing over the lips he had kissed not more than an hour ago, he felt his hand clench into a fist at his side.
If it had been possible to die of mortification, Evie had no doubt that she would have fallen dead on the cool grass of the gardens the moment that Daniel left.
Unfortunately, life must go on, even though she had to stumble back to the ballroom on unsteady knees, rendered absurdly weak by the most scorching kiss known to mankind.
Of course, I might have been exaggerating it, since I hardly have any other experience to compare it to…