of the silver gauze gown. It caressed her breasts and hips, wrapping itself about her like a lover’s kiss. There was not a man in the room, Dev thought, who was not staring at her, his mouth drying with lust, his mind a rampage of images as to what it would be like to unwrap that gown from those curves.
Or perhaps those were just his fantasies.
She was very pale with the kind of translucent skin dusted with freckles that was a feature of the Celtic races. The contrast between her vivid green eyes and her black hair was shocking, exhilarating. It made her look fragile and fey, like a kelpie or dryad, too exotic to be human. Her black curls were piled up on her head in a tumble of ringlets held by a dazzling diamond comb. Matching jewels sparkled about her slender neck and adorned her wrists. Not a poor relation then. She looked magnificent.
She also looked familiar.
Dev’s heart missed a beat then started to race. For a moment it felt as though everything had stopped; the music, the chatter, the breath in his body. For one long moment he could neither think nor speak.
It was almost ten years since he had seen Susanna Burney. His last memory of her was not one he was likely ever to forget: Susanna gloriously naked and fast asleep in the bed that they had shared for their brief, passionate wedding night. As he had blown out the guttering candle he had had no notion that he would never see her again.
In the morning she was gone, and with her his marriage. She had left him a note—it had all been a terrible mistake, she had said. She had begged him not to come after her, had said that she would sue for an annulment. Young and full of pride, angry, hurt and betrayed, he had let her go.
It had been two years later when he had returned from his first full tour of duty with the Royal Navy that he had reconsidered his abandonment of his wayward wife and had traveled to Scotland to find her again. He had told himself that it had been for curiosity’s sake alone and to ensure that their annulment had indeed been granted. He had plans for the future, ambitious ideas, and they did not involve the girl he had seduced, married on impulse and let go. Sweat broke out over his body now as he recalled knocking on the door of the rectory and confronting Susanna’s uncle and aunt. They had told him that Susanna was dead. He could recall the fierce punch of shock that had made a mockery of his bravado. He had cared for Susanna a great deal more than he had pretended.
Susanna Burney looked very much alive to him.
Anger and shock warred within him. He met her indifferent, unrecognizing gaze and a second wave of fury beat through him. She was pretending that she did not know him.
“Dev!” Emma was tugging on his hand, reclaiming his attention. A frown marred the pretty regularity of her features.
Emma, his rich, beautiful, well-connected fiancée …
Emma, the woman who was bringing him everything that he had ever wanted …
He had never told Emma about his first hasty, ill-fated marriage. There were many things that he had not told Emma. He had pretended that it was because all his past indiscretions were long gone, unimportant and forgotten, but the truth was that Emma was jealous and possessive and he could not predict how she would react to any revelation, and he did not want to put that to the test and endanger the entire house of cards he had built for himself—and for Chessie.
A cold prickle of tension edged its way down Dev’s spine. The damage that Susanna might do was incalculable. If she revealed even a hint of his past, Emma might break their engagement and everything he had worked for would be lost.
He watched as Susanna drew closer. Her hand was resting on Fitz’s arm in the most confiding gesture, their dark heads bent close together. She was smiling at Fitz as though he was the most fascinating man in the universe. Fitz, Dev thought, looked completely dazzled, flushing like a youth in the grip of his first infatuation.
Susanna looked up again and her gaze met Dev’s for one long, long moment. He could not read her expression. There was still no flicker of recognition in her eyes and no trace of nervousness in her manner.
Dev felt cold, very cold. He straightened, squared his shoulders and prepared to be introduced to the wife he had thought was dead.
CHAPTER TWO
SHE DID NOT RECOGNIZE him until it was too late to run and equally impossible to hide. Not that hiding was her style.
The Duke and Duchess of Alton’s Midsummer Ball was the most terrible crush and the press of guests had obscured Susanna’s vision. The room was hot and airless, so noisy she could barely hear what Fitz was saying to her as he escorted her across the floor. Something about meeting some of his friends, she thought, which had been kind of him since she knew no one in London. And then the crowd had fallen back and she was looking at James Devlin and all the breath left her lungs in a rush and her head spun and she thought she might faint. It was only through sheer self-discipline that she did not.
Fitz had not noticed her discomfort. He was not, she thought, an observant man. Handsome, charming, spoiled, arrogant … She had ascertained all those facts about him within five minutes of their introduction. Within ten she had learned that he was devoted to his horses and his wine cellar. Within fifteen she had realized that he was susceptible to a beautiful woman, which would be useful since she was both beautiful and pledged to seduce him.
Fitz was still speaking as he drew her closer to the group of people about James Devlin. She had no idea what he was talking about; fortunately it seemed to require no reply on her part. All she could see was Devlin. All she was aware of was his height, the breadth of him and the coldness in his blue eyes as they rested on her with absolute disdain. She supposed she could not blame him for that. She was the one who had walked away from him, left him before the ink was dry on the marriage lines and whilst the bed was still warm from their lovemaking.
Susanna raised her chin and straightened her spine. She had been playing a part for so long that surely it could not be too difficult to wipe all expression from her face and conceal the fact that she was shaking inside. Yet it seemed inordinately hard to do. She let her gaze travel over Devlin again in slow appraisal. The calculated coolness of her stare was in direct contradiction to the nervous bumping of her heart against her ribs.
There was such authority and innate confidence about Devlin now, a poignant contrast to the dazzling youth of eighteen that she remembered so well. He had had brilliance and dash even at that age but there had been something eager and untried about him as well, as though the world, with its sharp edges, had not yet hardened his soul.
He had certainly filled out in the intervening years. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep. He was taller, more muscular, most definitely a man rather than a boy, and so handsome that he would have been within a hairsbreadth of looking pretty had it not been for the square jaw and high cheekbones that robbed his face of any softness at all. Susanna felt a sudden and totally unexpected pang that the boy she had known had grown into so formidable a man. She would never have guessed it. But she had made her choices years ago. It was far too late for regrets now. Life had taught her that regrets were no more than self-indulgence.
She saw the little blonde girl hanging on Devlin’s arm. That was one thing that had not changed then. Not that she cared a jot after nine years. But there had always been women hanging around James Devlin like bees to the honeypot. He knew he was handsome and he knew very well the effect that had on women. The arrogant self-assurance in the tilt of his head said so.
He was watching her. He had not taken his gaze from her from the moment that she had crossed the floor on Fitz’s arm. She
