Page 77 of Doxy for the Ton
“I think Lady Rex might prefer a little air,” Alexander said. “Tonight is her first social engagement in London.”
“But I was going to ask you to partner me in this next dance, Lady Rex,” Thorpe said.
“That’s very kind,” Mimi replied, “but I’m promised to His Grace.”
Alexander’s heart soared as she turned her wide, expressive eyes to him, and Thorpe frowned, most likely over having just lost one hundred pounds.
The music began, and Alexander steered her onto the dance floor. Mimi glanced about the ballroom as a number of couples began to twirl about the room.
“I-I’m afraid I don’t know this dance,” she said.
“Allow me,” Alexander said, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “It’s a waltz. Most scandalous, but it has three benefits over a quadrille or cotillion.”
“Which are?”
“The first,” he said, his blood warming at the feel of her soft body pressed against his, “is its simplicity. The steps—a repeated series of three movements—are easily learned, even for one such as I. The second is that the proximity of the couple to each other enables a more frank discussion, without the fear of being overheard.”
“And the third?”
A fire raged through his blood as he felt her body softening in his embrace—a symbol of her trust.
“The third—and perhaps theonlyreason for a waltz, in my view—is that the man leads.”
“Is that not what your sex does as a matter of course?” she said. “Lead, rule, dominate?”
“By law, perhaps, but on the dance floor, the woman dominates, for she has the power of refusal. And when a woman surrenders that power by submitting to a waltz, she permits her partner to lay his claim on her.”
“I am at your mercy, sir, by virtue of not understanding the true nature of a waltz.”
Alexander spun her round and inhaled the soft scent of rose. His cock surged with need at the sharp undertones of something else.
Female arousal.
“You may exercise the power of refusal now, if you wish, Mimi,” he said.
She shook her head. “The dance has begun. Neither of us would be satisfied if it failed to reach its conclusion.”
He lowered his gaze to her neckline, and his cock stiffened at the sight of her delectable form—the swell of her breasts against her gown, and the tempting valley between them that no manner of intricate embroidery could distract his hungry gaze from. And below her neckline…
Heavens!He was in danger of spending at the sight of the two little peaks poking at the fabric of her gown.
No wonder bloody Walton had such a smile on his face after he’d danced with her, if such a sight had been before him!
“Why, Your Grace, I believe you’re enjoying this dance,” she said, flicking her gaze down to his groin.
“Either that, or there’s a prize marrow in my breeches, Lady Rex.”
She let out an unladylike snort, and a nearby couple glanced toward them. The lady frowned, and Alexander recognized the Honorable Sarah Francis. He gave her a brilliant smile, then resumed his attention on his delectable partner.
How much better a prospect for pleasure she was than some brittle debutante! She had no need for the façade of genteel disapproval at anything he said, no matter how crude, and he was guaranteed entry to her bed. But more than that, her soulful eyes, which gave a glimpse of the woman behind her mask, stirred the heart that he never knew existed. When she looked at him she didn’t see the duke, the title, or the wealthy suitor.
She sawhim. Alexander.
What a pity they must part eventually! But he had months yet to enjoy her to the full.
And enjoy her he would.
The dance concluded, and he steered her toward the edge of the ballroom, almost colliding with Foxton and his sister.
