Page 65 of Impassioned
The viscountess’s eyes rounded, and a victorious surge beat down Sabrina’s anxiety. “I haven’t yet decided, to be honest. I can’t imagine it will be well executed since you seem to be rushing to host it.”
“Mother, you must come,” Peggy pleaded. “Sabrina is going to be a duchess.” That her sister had to use that argument to persuade her mother to attend her own daughter’s first ball was incredibly sad.
Sabrina gave her mother a smile that should have peeled the paint from the drawing room walls. “By all means, if you anticipate that the ball—thatI—will be a failure, it’s best if you don’t come. When the duke asks where my parents are, I will explain they were too busy to attend.”
Her mother’s gasp was the most satisfying sound Sabrina had ever heard.
“There you are, my dear.”
Sabrina pivoted to see her husband moving to her side. He set his hand against her back, eliciting a shiver along her spine. Had he ever touched her like that? Let alone in a social setting?
“Good evening, Lady Tarleton.” Constantine inclined his head toward Sabrina’s mother and then toward her sister. “Lady Stinton. How delightful to encounter you. It’s so rare that we see you both, especially you, Lady Tarleton.”
There was an acid to his tone that made Sabrina want to smile. Then hug him until he couldn’t breathe.
“Good evening, Lord Aldington,” Sabrina’s mother said stiffly. “I’m not sure I recall the last time I saw you and my daughter in the same company.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t at your house for dinner or even a visit.” Constantine flashed her a smile that Sabrina hadn’t even realized he possessed. Spectacularly handsome and deliciously taunting at the same time. Oh, yes, she was going to hug him at the earliest possible opportunity.
He presented his arm to Sabrina. “Come, lady wife, let us take a turn. Good evening, ladies.”
The moment Sabrina put her hand on his arm, he steered her to the other side of the drawing room and into an adjoining room with tables of refreshments. He didn’t pause to offer her anything. Instead, he guided her to a door and pushed it open. They stepped onto a small balcony, and he closed the door behind him.
Sabrina immediately chilled as gooseflesh rippled across her bare shoulders. She suddenly realized they were alone. The balcony was small—perhaps one other couple could fit—and it overlooked the rear garden. Without pause, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. “Thank you,” she said against his collar.
He clasped her back, his hands warm against her. “Are you all right?”
“I am now. What you did inside… What you said to my mother…” She drew back so she could look up into his eyes. The faint gold flecks seemed more brilliant tonight, despite the darkness on the balcony. “Thank you. No one has ever…rescued me like that.”
A smile teased his lips. “I heard what you said before I interrupted. I’m not sure you needed rescuing, but I’m afraid I couldn’t resist contributing.” His fingertips stroked her spine, trailing upward until his glove met her flesh.
“It was marvelous,” she whispered, leaning into him so her breasts pressed against his chest. The night air was cold, but he was so warm. Safe. Arousing.
His palm flattened over her skin, just below her nape. “You won’t be a failure, and neither will your ball. I promise you that. We won’t give any of them the satisfaction.”
All Sabrina could think just then was the satisfaction she craved. What would it be like to kiss him? More than a chaste brush of lips, but a searing declaration of desire.
“Constantine…”
There was a flash of surprise in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something much fiercer. He curled his hand around her nape and lowered his head until his mouth touched hers. His other hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb sweeping gently across her collarbone.
She clasped his back, finally realizing how desperate she was for this connection. His lips plied hers, moving softly but purposely, coaxing her to kiss him back. It didn’t take much. She wanted this and so much more.
Thinking of all Evie had told her and the book she’d provided, Sabrina slid her tongue tentatively along his lips. The press of his thumb on her intensified as he sealed his mouth to hers and met her tongue with his own. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, giving her exactly what she desired. His hand cradled her head, holding her captive to his embrace, not that she wanted to be anywhere else.
Bliss raced through her, lifting her to a plateau she’d never even glimpsed. Heat and need pulsed in her sex and in her breasts, heavy against him. At last, they were on the precipice of rapture. On a balcony in the middle of a bloody musicale.
“Oh! I beg your pardon.”
The masculine voice startled them apart. Sabrina turned her head away from the door, too humiliated to allow whoever it was to see her face.
“A moment please, Harkin.” Constantine’s voice was a deep rasp and did nothing to ease the ache inside her. If anything, it only sharpened her longing. The sound of the door, which she hadn’t heard open, told her the man had left. “He’s gone back inside,” Constantine confirmed.
Sabrina let her body wilt against his. “That was horrifying.”
“I wouldn’t say it washorrifying,” he said. “We are married, after all. It’s not as if your reputation is ruined.”
She looked up at him to see a frown flit across his features. “Yet you are troubled by it.”
