Page 33 of The Earl's Scarred Bride

When the door closed behind him, Cecil turned his full attention to his wife. She still hovered uncertainly near the threshold, her fingers twisting in her skirts. "You mentioned something about dancing lessons?"

Her blush deepened. "I thought...that is, if you're not too busy..."

"I'm never too busy for you." The words emerged more intensely than he'd intended. To cover his slip, he moved to clear space in the center of the study, pushing chairs aside. "Though I must warn you, I'm a demanding instructor."

"So I've noticed," she murmured, and the slight huskiness in her voice made his blood heat.

Cecil held out his hand, and after only a moment's hesitation, she placed her smaller one in his palm. The simple touch sent awareness spiraling through him. How was it possible that this woman affected him so powerfully with the merest contact?

He drew her closer, positioning them for a waltz. "We'll start with the basic steps. Place your hand here..." He guided her palm to his shoulder, fighting back a shiver as her fingers curled into the fabric of his coat. "And I'll place mine here." His own hand settled at her waist, perhaps a bit lower than strictly proper.

Her breath hitched. "Like this?"

"Perfect." He began leading her through the steps, though in truth she moved with natural grace. He'd known at the ball that she'd been lying about her dancing abilities. "One-two-three, one-two-three...you see? You're a natural."

"Only because you make it easy." She glanced up at him through her lashes, then quickly away. "I don't want to embarrass you again. At the ball, when everyone was watching..."

Cecil's jaw tightened as he remembered the whispers, the sideways glances that had made her shrink into herself. "You could never embarrass me," he said roughly. "Those gossips are merely jealous that I managed to secure the most fascinating woman in London as my wife."

Her step faltered. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" He pulled her closer, propriety be damned. "Why would I lie?"

"Because..." She swallowed hard. "Because of my scar. Because I'm not what anyone expected for the Earl of Stonefield."

"No," he agreed, his voice dropping lower as he bent his head toward hers. "You're far more than I expected."

Elizabeth's breath caught. They had stopped dancing, though his hand still burned at her waist, his thumb tracing small circles that made her shiver. "Cecil..."

"Yes?" His voice was low, dangerous, filled with an intimacy that made her pulse race.

She struggled to maintain her composure. "We should continue dancing," she managed, though her body betrayed her by leaning slightly closer.

Cecil's smile held a predatory edge. "Are you afraid of what might happen if we stop?"

"Afraid?" Elizabeth lifted her chin, trying to summon her earlier bravado. "Of what, precisely?"

"Of this." His hand moved higher, fingers brushing the sensitive skin just above her waist. "Of how your body responds to me when I'm this close."

"I'm not responding to anything," she protested, even as a flush crept up her neck.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Your pulse tells a different story." His fingers traced the line of her neck, following her racing heartbeat. "Tell me truly, Elizabeth. What are you afraid of?"

She swallowed hard. "I'm not afraid."

"Then why do you tremble?" Cecil's voice dropped lower, more intimate. "Why can't you look me in the eye?"

Elizabeth forced herself to meet his gaze, her breath catching at the intensity she found there. "Because you make it impossible to think clearly."

"Good," he murmured. "I'd hate to be the only one so affected."

"Is that what this is?" she challenged, finding a spark of her earlier spirit. "A game to see who can unsettle the other more?"

Cecil's laugh was rich and low. "Perhaps. Though I'm beginning to think you enjoy our little battles as much as I do."

"Enjoy?" Elizabeth's indignation was only half-feigned. "You're impossible."

"Your scar," he murmured, his free hand rising to trace the air just above the mark, not quite touching but close enough that she could feel the heat of his skin. "Do you know what I think when I look at it?"

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