Even though they had stopped dancing, they stood there in the middle of their tiny room, close to each other with careless smiles playing on their lips. It had been quite some time since Nick had truly enjoyed dancing with a woman. Most of the time, he danced with partners he intended to seduce for information or for purposes dictated by his superiors. 

[i] “You dance beautifully. I have no doubt I’d be able to find you on the dance floor in no time at all, mask on or not,”[/i] she whispered. He was looking down at her face, smiling dreamily as she squeezed his hand. 

“And you are so beautiful tonight, Ms. Cartwright,” he whispered back. “More beautiful, I believe, than the duke’s own daughter.”

[i]”You know, with you going back to the states so soon, who knows how long you’ll be mine. Perhaps the only thing left for us to do is take advantage of this night we have alone in one another’s arms. Ah- if you think that battle wound of yours will allow it.”[/i]

And for the first time it seemed their minds were in perfect synchronization. His brows rose, thinking that he might have misheard or misunderstood what she had just said. “I don’t think it will bother us,” he lied, his voice dropping a notch.

[i]“I would not label it as taking advantage of me, as you said earlier,”[/i] Claire reassured. 

Nick nodded his agreement, stepping closer. “Certainly not,” he muttered.

[i]”More like…living in the moment.”[/i]

His eyes were dark with hunger that no food could satisfy. He towered over her, one arm slipping around her back while his free hand was at her nape. “Of course, of course,” the gentleman murmured, although he was feeling less and less a gentleman as he claimed her soft lips and kissed her with urgency. 

There was nothing wrong with what they were doing, he reasoned to himself. He was her husband and she was his wife. His response was the response a normal husband would have to his beautiful wife. And that night Claire was just the epitome of beauty. Her milky complexion was so smooth to the touch. Suddenly he wanted to touch her everywhere with his hands, then with his lips. 

With much regret, Nick pulled away from her enough to look her in the eye and ask with all sincerity, “Are you sure about this?”

If she said no, he would find a way to clamp down the desire that stabbed him through the heart. He would honor her decision and tame the feeling she had roused. But even as she contemplated for an answer, he was nuzzling her neck and his hands worked their magic on the hooks and ribbons of her dress. “Tell me if I’ve gone too far,” he murmured into her collar bone as he pushed the sleeves of her dress down. But he didn’t promise he would stop. He probably could.