Page 20 of The Lord's Icy Temptress
Chapter 14
As the dinner ended, the ladies gracefully excused themselves, retreating to the elegant drawing room adorned with plush furnishings and soft candlelight. Instead, the men chose to adjourn to a large parlour for cigars and brandy. Neither option seemed particularly appealing to Seraphina as she knew that no matter whom she encountered next, Lord Ashford would still be on her mind. Her skin felt warm as if she were overheating. She needed a moment to compose herself in the cool night air. That would be the proper solution; she was certain of it.
She might have allowed herself to get a touch too carried away. As Seraphina snuck out onto the balcony and left the low din of conversation and music behind her, she felt more at ease. The evening breeze wrapped around her, emptying most of the excessive chatter inside her head. Comments and thoughts swirling around that did not need to be there.
Seraphina was allowing herself to fantasize too strongly over a man hardly even knew. She had refused to allow herself to ask more about him because it felt too much like surrender. Already she was giving in and telling him too much about herself. She heard herself repeatedly offering up excess information where she had never allowed another potential suitor to grow that close to her.
She certainly had not allowed herself to fantasize about any of those other men. Yet, she stood here thinking about what it might be to have his lips brush against hers. What would his hand feel like in hers? Her heart fluttered at the thought that he might appear here and pull her into his arms with that impish grin on his face that would force her to forget anything other than himself.
Seraphina forced herself to turn to look out over the beautiful gardens below. Her eyes closed as she focused on her breathing.
Get a hold of yourself.
She pressed the back of her gloved hands into her too-warm cheeks in the hopes that it would do something to calm herself — it did not.
Footsteps sounded behind her, soft and steady, that snapped her out of her trance. She spun to see who the new guest was or even to mutter lame placations about why she was on the balcony in the first place but there he was. It was as if he had read her mind!
When their eyes met, Seraphina felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. The cool mask of aloofness she usually wore was gone — she could not have summoned it if she had tried. Instead, she could feel the hope shining through her chest and outward. After all, was it not what she had said that she had always wanted? Somebody to take an interest in her not for the fact that she was the ‘unattainable rose’ nor for her beauty. She had wished for somebody to get to know her mind and her heart, and Lord Ashford seemed to do so in a way she could have never anticipated.
Now he approached with purpose, and his voice broke the silence, carrying a warmth that contrasted with the cool night air.
“Enjoying the view?” Lord Ashford enquired, his gaze holding an intensity and insinuation that made her cheeks flush.
“I find the gardens quite charming,” Seraphina replied awkwardly, attempting to maintain composure. She wrapped her arms around herself as she spoke. “It is a welcome escape from the bustling ballroom.”
A faint, knowing smile played on Lord Ashford’s lips.
It seemed that he was not about to allow her to get away without answering the underlying question he posed.
“And what about the company? Do you find it charming as well?” he asked, the air between them thick with unspoken words.
She could lie. The choice was laid out clearly in front of her. She could be dismissive and insist that it was improper for him to be standing here while she was alone. There was a multitude of things that she could shout at him to express how indecent the whole thing would be should anyone come out here and happen across them.
Yet her tongue was silent — she could not bring herself to turn him away when he had taken such effort to seek her out. She did not wish him to go.
“I suppose the company is ... intriguing,” she replied, her voice steady, though her heart pounded in her chest. He stood too close to her — leaning against the balcony railing beside her. It would be proper to step away from him. It would be decent to excuse herself back into the ballroom — but she stayed at his side.
Boldly, he moved closer until she could feel his warmth. His cologne’s soft, musky notes mixed with the floral aroma in the air as he captured her eyes once more. “Just intriguing?” he whispered, leaning closer with a grin. “Lady Seraphina …”
“Sera,” she interrupted softly.
Lord Ashford looked as if he could have taken flight that very moment. His grin morphed into a bright smile, a shine to his eyes. One would think he had just been gifted piles of gold and jewels for how happy he looked. His hand lifted between them, stopping just short of crooking a finger under her chin. His gaze dropped as if at battle with himself to touch her or refrain from touching her. “I shall only call you Sera if you call me Tristan.”
Seraphina dipped her chin into a nod, for she found that she was speechless.
“Sera,” Tristan whispered softly, his curved finger finally pressing into the underside of her chin. “I find myself bewitched by you.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and laden with desire that she was almost afraid to acknowledge. Her breath caught in her throat as she indulged in his attention. Just for a moment, she entertained the notion of him in a genuine way. For so long, she had just known that romance and connection of this sort were simply not in the cards for her.
The things she had heard from other girls of the ton about being swept off of their feet and into strong, capable arms sounded like nothing more than the fantasies that Seraphina liked to read about. Now that such a reality was presenting itself to her she was not certain how she felt about it.
Tristan’s thumb brushed over her chin, and her lips parted softly. “Is that line borrowed from one of your Gothic novels?”
Tristan’s lip tugged upward, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he shook his head. “I assure you, it was no line.”
His presence was very nearly overwhelming. The intensity of his gaze, coupled with the lack of space between them, was almost too much. Her heart raced, and her blood pulsed loudly in her ears as she attempted to remain composed. He lifted her chin ever so slightly, angling her face towards his as if he might actually kiss her — already, it was so much better than the version from her dreams. She would not back down now — she could not.
Tristan took her other hand in his, pushing his fingers between her gloved ones, and urged her closer until they stood toe to toe. She could feel something like lightning pulsing between them, the anticipation nearly driving her mad as the rest of the world seemed to fade away into nothingness — the world narrowed down to only the two of them.
