and sighed.
What she craved could not be found here. Markus stood across the room, staring at her. He would watch her until she found a suitable man to tease—then he would find a plaything for himself. Maybe Veronica? No. Veronica was not for him. Markus would never approach, and Veronica would need to be taken, but with a gentle hand.
Time to tease, dear Grace. From afar, she could and would titillate Markus. That was safe. That she had been taught to do well. She smiled and tilted her head to the side. Her tongue slid out and traced her upper lip. The tingling of her moisture on the plump surface made her tongue retrace its path. She winked at him.
He inclined his head to her, then tilted it toward the two women teasing the men in the center of the room.
He wished her to tantalize him with Emma. Of course he did. She turned her attention back to them; there was a part of her that yearned for what he asked her to do. But only Oscar had ever asked her to do anything with a woman to titillate his senses.
Grace bit her lip at the echo of Oscar’s voice. “Flirt with them for me, Grace. I want to watch you,” rang in her head. She swallowed hard. She couldn’t bring herself to take that step forward and flirt with these women, to flirt with these men. Or could she? A shiver racked her body at the same time heat swelled in her womb.
In her soul, she wanted something different this time, and her heart battled for that one-on-one encounter she so craved. Everyone in this room futtered with their mistresses and protectors at some point. She wanted to do the act and not have someone watching her from the chair. She closed her eyes and the carved cherrywood object sat before her. “Leave me alone,” she whispered beneath her breath, and the chair vanished.
She wanted to futter with the man she loved. Not simply have him watch her. Tears pushed to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Come on, Grace. You can have fun and flirt and then settle in for the night with one, not two or three. You know it. You simply have never done this without Oscar. Without direction.
She inhaled a deep breath and pried her eyes open. That’s it. Look around the room, pick a protector you wish to entertain, and then flirt with Emma to win his favors for the night.
She turned her head to the right, slowly taking in the crowded ballroom. Several groups of men and women stood laughing and drinking, but none of them gave her the prickles on the nape of her neck. Oh, indeed. She needed that reaction—that primal physical indication that simply by sighting someone, they would weave together well on the physical plane.
She turned her head back to the left and lightning struck down her spine and her bum clenched. She shook her head to clear her vision. Winston? Was that him?
With the wide shoulders and curl of blond hair over the collar of his fitted evening coat, it very well could be. But why would Winston Greydon be at one of Emma’s events? He had never attended one in the past, and he certainly had always appeared a one-woman kind of man. Besides, last she heard of him, he was in India. It couldn’t be him.
You still think of him after all these years as your perfect man. No man is how you thought them back then.
She sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to see if she could attract the attention of this man—whoever he was. Even without seeing his face, he seemed someone she would be physically a good match for this night.
She stepped forward, in the direction of both him and Emma.
Men and women laughed, joked, and drank. They didn’t notice her slipping through. The closer she got to him the bodies grew thicker, crowding her. She couldn’t do this. Her lungs constricted and her heart sped as her feet slowed. No…no, she needed to do this.
Do this without Oscar.
She glanced across the room once more to where Markus stood. His blue eyes watched her. His face wore an expression she had not seen before. He worried about her.
As she neared the man who resembled Winston, Oscar’s words “Act like a cat playing with its food. Tease him, my dear” assaulted her. A smile curved her lips. Indeed, he was her prey for the night and she would play with him as a cat did before she devoured him.
She purposefully brushed into Lord Kipberval—he was known for getting easily flustered—and tilted her glass, spilling some of her wine on him.
“Watch where you tread!” The stocky, black-haired man turned toward her.
“Pardon me, sir.” Grace placed her hand on his forearm.
His gaze slid down her body, inspecting her in a glance. “My! You are a pretty thing. Sorry to have shouted, lovely.”
“No worries, sir. I was simply heading out to the floor and slipped.” Grace glanced sideways at the fair-haired man standing not two feet from her. He had turned at the yell from Kipberval and now faced her fully.
Eyes, so blue and intense, stared at her. The same blue that had sparked with laughter as they had discussed their plights in life and made up stories to run off and become gypsies together. She sucked in a startled breath as her heart hammered in her chest. Winston.
She beamed up at him. Her lips parted to speak his name with excitement.
His jaw angrily set and his eyes narrowed.
Anger? Chills raced her arms and she stepped backward, cowering away from his expression. His eyes hardened. She couldn’t bear to look.
She tore her gaze from him and glanced around the room. Emma laughed out and her gaze jumped to Emma. Indeed, Emma. Go to her…. Be the woman Oscar taught you to be. Winston is your past, and remember he, too, is not what you remember. He is a man, a man with as intense, carnal appetites as every man you have known.
She stepped forward and onto the dance floor, mind spinning as her heart hammered in her chest. What was Winston doing here? And why was he angry with her?
The same arched nose and smile from childhood repeated in her mind and slowly faded to the wrinkles that now resided about his eyes and his mouth. Happy lines, which showed his age and indicated a happy life, most likely full of joy.
Though he was not smiling at her now. Anger and disappointment shone back at her. Her heart sank. Yes, it was disappointment. How dare he be disappointed in her? He was here, too. He stood in the middle of one of Emma’s events. What does he seek here? Why is he here? her mind swung around, Why is he here?
Grace stepped closer to Emma as Emma swayed, shaking her hips sensuously in what appeared to be an exotic dance the likes Grace had never seen before. Emma was about to help her find out why Winston was here.
Emma lifted her head. Her gaze settled on Grace and she squealed, “Grace!” Then she walked toward her.
Grace’s lips curved up into a smile. “Dear Emma, how are you?”
“I am delighted to see you. We have all missed you.” She threw her arms about Grace’s shoulders and pressed her lips to Grace’s.
The gentle pinch of her soft lips against Grace’s mouth slid through her veins. Grace relaxed and heard Oscar’s words: “That is it, Grace. Tease her. Show me how sensual two women can be, Grace. Show me how much you love me by doing this for me.” The proper Grace trickled from her body as if water poured from her hair, placing sexual Grace firmly
