his hand holding hers, his warm fingers and firm palm at her back, his big body brushing hers. Little arrows of sensation seemed to zip around beneath her skin. “A chance with me? I thought we were talking about your buying Orion.”
He eased her closer. His breath touched her hair and his body burned into hers. Her skin felt electrified. And he whispered, “You know we’re talking about more than the horse. Who’s lying now? Ma’am?”
She liked it too much, dancing so close to him. She liked him too much. “Please don’t hold me so tightly.”
He instantly obeyed, loosening his hold so he embraced her easily, lightly, again. “Better?”
She nodded, thinking that this particular Noah, self-assured and sophisticated in evening dress, was every bit as brash and manly as the one she’d assumed was a groom. And smooth, too. She hadn’t planned to forgive him for pretending to be a penniless stable hand—but somehow she already had.
And not only had she forgiven him, she was actually considering letting him have Orion after all. Because she did like him and she’d seen him with her horses. Orion would thrive in Noah’s care.
He pulled her closer again. She allowed that. It felt good and she wasn’t really afraid of him. She was afraid of herself, of her too-powerful response to him. And then there was her basic problem: it had always been so easy for her to get carried away. She would have to watch herself.
Then again, her goal tonight had been to get out and have a little fun.
So all right. It shouldn’t be too difficult to do both—to have a little fun and yet not get carried away.
They danced the rest of that dance without talking. When it ended, they swayed together until the next dance began and then danced some more.
“Walk in the garden with me,” he said when that song was over.
“Yes. I would like that.”
He took her hand and led her from the dance floor.
* * *
It was going pretty well, Noah thought as he walked with her down the stone stairway that led to the big tent and the palace gardens beyond. She seemed to have gotten past her fury with him for pretending to be someone he wasn’t. But he sensed a certain residual wariness in her. Which was fine. Few things worth winning came easily.
“Something to drink?” he asked.
“I would like that.”
So they stopped in the tent, where waiters offered wine and cocktails and soft drinks, too. They both took flutes of champagne and went out the back exit behind the dais into the moonlit garden strung with party lights.
She said, “You implied when we talked in the stables that you were staying in Montedoro indefinitely....”
“Not anymore. It turns out there are a couple of meetings I have to get back for. I’ll be leaving Thursday.”
“Is your sister visiting with you?”
“No, she’s at home in California.”
“I assume Dami has you staying here at the palace?”
He shook his head. “Lots of guests at the palace this weekend. I went ahead and took a suite at the Belle Époque.” The five-star hotel was across from Casino d’Ambre.
Another couple came toward them. They nodded in greeting as they passed. When it was just the two of them again, Alice said, “I love the Belle Époque. We used to go for afternoon tea there now and then when I was a girl, my sisters and I. We would get our favorite table—on the mezzanine of the winter garden, with that amazing dome of stained glass and steel overhead. I would stuff myself with tea cakes, and the governess, Miss Severly, would have to reprimand me.”
“Governess? I thought your brother said you all went to Montedoran schools.”
“We did. But after we grew out of our nanny, Gerta, we also had Miss Severly. She tutored us between school terms and tried to drum good manners into us.”
“Were you scared of your governess?”
“Not in the least. Once reprimanded, I only grew more determined. At tea I would wait until Miss Severly looked the other way and then try to stuff down as many cakes as I could before she glanced at me again.”
“Did you make yourself sick?”
She slanted him a glance. “How did you know?”
He thought of all the tabloid stories he’d read about her. Of course she’d been a girl who gobbled cakes when the governess wasn’t looking. “Just a guess.”
They came out on a point overlooking the sea. An iron bench waited beneath a twisted cypress tree and an iron railing marked the cliff’s edge. Alice went to the railing. She sipped her champagne and stared out over the water at the distant three-quarter moon.
As he watched her, he had the oddest feeling of unreality. It was like a dream, really, being there with her. She was a vision in lustrous red, her bare shoulders so smooth, her arms beautifully shaped, muscular in a way that was uniquely feminine.
Eventually, she turned to him. Her eyes were very dark at that moment. Full of shadows and secrets. “I’ve never been as well behaved as I should be. It’s a problem for me. I’m too eager for excitement and adventure. But I’m working on that.”
He moved to stand beside her, and leaned back against the railing. “There’s nothing wrong with a little adventure now and then.”
She laughed, turning toward him, holding her champagne glass up so he could tap his against it. “I agree. But as you said, now and then. For me it’s like the tea cakes. I just have to eat them all.” She sighed. And then she drained the glass. “So I’m trying to slow down a little, to think before I jump, to be less...excitable.”
“It’s a shame to curb all that natural enthusiasm.” He wanted to touch her—to smooth her shining hair or run the back of a finger along the sleek curve of her neck. But he held himself in check. He didn’t want to spook her.
“Everybody has to grow up sometime.” She leaned in closer. Her perfume came to him: like lilies and leather and a hint of the ocean. He could stand there and smell her all night. But she was on the move again. In a rustle of red skirts, she went to the bench and sat down. “Tell me about your sister.” She bent to set her empty glass beneath the bench.
“She’s much younger than I am. We’re twelve years apart. She’s been homeschooled for most of her life. She’s sensitive and artistic. She could always draw, from when she was very little, and she carries a sketch pad around with her all the time. And she loves to sew. She’s better with a thread and needle than any tailor I’ve ever used. She makes all her own clothes. And now she’s suddenly decided that she wants to study fashion design in New York City.”
Alice patted the space next to her. “And you don’t want her to do what she wants?”
He went to her. She swept her skirt out of the way and he sat beside her. “Lucy was homeschooled because she was sick a lot. She almost died more than once. She had asthma and
