on his throat again, cutting off his words. “I am already sorry,” he said flatly.
He let go of Waters’ throat and grasped him by the shoulders, whipping him around and shoving him back against the railing. Digging his hand into the neck of Waters’ shirt, he bent him backward.
“Perhaps you are not familiar enough with Lady Pencully’s house to know that there is a twenty-foot drop from here to the garden below, but I am. I would consider that, if I were you, before I decided to threaten either me or this young lady again. Lady Pencully would dislike having someone take a nasty fall from her terrace on the night of her birthday ball. However, I assure you that she would quickly get over it, and no one would question an inebriated guest tumbling over the railing to the stone walkway below. And there would be no one to dispute my version of the events, since you, alas, would be dead. Have I made myself clear?”
Waters, his eyes huge in the darkness, nodded mutely.
“Good. Then we understand each other.” The Cavalier stepped back a little, allowing Waters to stand again, but he did not release him just yet. Looking the other man straight in the eye, the Cavalier went on. “If ever I hear a word about this incident or the slightest whisper of a scandalous rumor concerning this young lady, I will know where it came from. And I will come deal with you. So I would suggest that you keep your lips tightly sealed. In fact, I think it would be a good idea if you left London immediately. A long stay in the country would definitely be in your best interests. Am I clear?”
Waters nodded quickly, not daring to look at the man or at Callie.
“All right, then. Now go.”
The Cavalier let him go and stepped back, and Waters scurried off, never glancing behind him. Callie’s rescuer turned back to her.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
Callie nodded and shivered, realizing suddenly how very cold she was. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you. I—” Her breath caught raggedly.
“Here. You are cold.” He untied the cape that hung behind him and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Thank you.” She clutched it to her and looked up at him.
Her eyes were luminous in the faint light, swimming with unshed tears. He sucked in a quick breath.
“You are beautiful. ’Tis no wonder that a cad such as he would try to take advantage of you. You should not let that sort inveigle you outside.”
“I know. I was foolish.” Callie gave him a watery little smile. “I am not so naive as to step outside with a man I hardly know. I was—I was just trying to evade my grandmother, and I acted on impulse.”
“Evade your grandmother?” he asked, his eyes lighting mischievously. “Is she a wicked grandmother?”
“No, just a matchmaking one.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “I understand. Almost as bad as a matchmaking mother.”
Callie smiled. “I am very lucky you came along when you did. I am forever in your debt. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” She held out her hand solemnly to shake his.
He took her hand, his long fingers wrapping warmly around hers, and he raised it to his lips, pressing them softly against the back of her hand. “I am pleased that I was able to help you. But it was not luck. I saw him lead you out the door, and I did not like the look of him.”
“You were watching me?” Callie asked, warmed a little by the thought that he had looked for her just as she had looked for him.
“I had started across the room to ask you for another dance,” he told her. “But then the music stopped, and I realized that it was time for supper. Then he whisked you away.”
“Still, it was good of you to come after us.”
“Any man would have done the same.”
“No,” she demurred with a smile. “Not all.” She glanced down at their joined hands. “You still have my hand, sir.”
“Yes, I know. Do you wish me to give it back?” His voice deepened sensually.
Callie looked up, and her insides quivered at the look in his eyes. “I—no, not really.”
“Good, for neither do I.” Softly his thumb stroked the back of her hand, and though it was only a small movement, Callie felt its effect all through her.
“And now that I have sent that blackguard packing…I think it must be worth a small favor, don’t you?”
“What favor?” Callie asked a little breathlessly. He seemed very near her; she could feel the heat of his body, smell the faint scent of masculine cologne. Her heart hammered in her chest, but it was not from fear as it had been moments earlier. It was anticipation that welled up in her now.
“Your name, my lady.”
“Calandra,” she answered softly.
“Calandra,” he repeated softly, lingering over the syllables. “’Tis a magical name.”
“Not so magical,” she said. “And those who are close to me call me Callie.”
“Callie.” He lifted his other hand and slid his thumb along her jawline. “It suits you.”
“But now we are unequal, for I do not know your name.”
“Bromwell. Those who are close to me call me Brom.”
“Brom,” she breathed. Her flesh tingled where his thumb touched it, sending delicious tendrils of sensation spiraling through her.
“It sounds much lovelier on your lips.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, and warmth blossomed deep in Callie’s abdomen. His eyes followed the movement of his thumb, and the light in them sparked higher, his own lips softening.
He leaned closer, and Callie was certain that he intended to kiss her. But she did not hesitate or pull away. Instead, boldly, she stretched up to meet him.
His lips closed on hers, and heat seemed to explode within her. She trembled, every nerve in her body suddenly alive and attuned to the slow, delicious movement of his mouth on hers. She had never felt anything like this before. Though one or two men had dared to steal a kiss from her, none of those kisses had felt like this—so soft and hot, her lips so sensitive to the velvet pressure of his. And none of those men had ever moved his mouth against her, opening her lips to his questing tongue, startling her and sending a wave of intense pleasure through her.
She made a low noise of surprise and eagerness, and her hands slid up instinctively around his neck, holding on to him as his arms wrapped fiercely around her, squeezing her against his long, hard body. The elegant plume of his hat brushed against her cheek, and that touch, too, aroused the sensitive nerves of her skin. He made a noise of hunger and frustration, reaching up to jerk the hat from his head and toss it aside as his lips pressed harder against hers.
Callie’s fingers dug into the rich material of his doublet. She felt as if she were falling, tumbling into some wild maelstrom of hunger and desire, and she was all at once eager and frightened
