Page 44 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
“Of course I noticed him,” Louisa said. “He has all that blond hair. And the lady I was talking to was quite mad for him.”
“And who would that be?” Simon asked.
“Ladies never tell.”
For a moment, he thought of other things ladies never told. When Louisa touched his arm, and her perfume enveloped him, he barely kept from flinching. What had seemed like an acceptable challenge now seemed like a dreadful risk.
“I’ll watch you two dance,” Georgie said.
Simon frowned. “But I thought you and I were going to—”
“Oh it’s been many months since I waltzed.”
“Me, too,” he said dryly.
“But you waltzed for years. You’ll remember with Louisa, and then you’ll dance with me. Go ahead.”
Simon heard the first flow of music, and he stood frozen, feeling self-conscious and ridiculous. There was nothing but air all around him, and he was adrift. And then he felt the brush of Louisa’s skirt against his legs, felt her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. It was natural to slide his hand around her waist, to take her other hand in his.
She wasn’t wearing gloves. Her skin was warm and dry, and suddenly he wondered if his palms were sweaty. And then he took a step and she was with him, twirling lightly in his arms. He didn’t know where he was on the dance floor, but she did, and with subtle pressure, led him as he once would have led her. The rhythm of the dance caught him, and his feet moved effortlessly. If he could see, he would be looking down into her eyes. He didn’t even know what his expression looked like to her.
This was too serious, too…on display.
“Do you see, Georgie?” Louisa called.
Simon thought she sounded breathless, and he imagined how breathless he could make her in bed. He found himself tightening his hold. He could feel the muscles in her back as she moved, and their thighs brushed as he whirled her ever closer.
“Simon is displaying the correct dancing posture for the man,” Louisa continued. “You can use that to help you remember your own form.”
Her voice sounded ever fainter. Her hand clutched at his shoulder.
He had to put a stop to this before their attraction to each other was obvious to everyone. He let his arm go limp, and hers did, too. She stumbled against him, her shoulder hitting his chest, before she righted herself.
“Now you see why you each must hold yourselves erect,” Simon said. “Your arms should be taut, not as collapsible as a string.”
“What else should I look for?” Georgie called.
Long ago, from across ballrooms Louisa had watched Simon waltz and had longed to be in his arms, the recipient of his playful smile and his single-minded attention. She hadn’t known his name then, had only caught glimpses of him in the crush at parties. But she’d envied the other ladies who’d known him well enough to be asked to dance.
But in this private dance he wasn’t smiling. And he wasn’t seeing her of course, but oh how she’d come to bask in the focus that was all his. They’d moved together like he’d never stopped dancing, like his lack of sight didn’t matter. It was all body to body, taking cues from each other. And he’d allowed her to lead him about the ballroom floor without complaint.
But it was too dangerous. He was wise to change this lesson into a demonstration. His hand crept up her back until she was forced to lift her elbow higher and higher.
“A bad waltz partner will leave you flapping your arm like a bird,” Simon told his sister.
“But how can I stop him?” Georgie asked.
Louisa pushed his forearm down. “Like this. It will be better to embarrass him for a moment.”
Then Simon pulled her right up against him, and with a squeak she tried to push away. His thigh dipped hard between hers, and she was shocked by the surge of pleasure. It was sinful, and far too embarrassing with Georgie in the room. And Louisa wanted desperately to be alone with him.
Georgie laughed. “Louisa is trying to move you back, Simon. What do I do if my partner won’t?”
“You stop dancing,” Louisa said, dropping her arms and giving a final push. Simon stepped away. “A gentleman will understand that he took liberties with you which he must not. You should conclude that he is a rake, and must be avoided.”
Was she trying to convince herself?
“Simon, you never danced like that,” Georgie said, shaking her head.
