light and quick on his feet. More importantly, his regard had been warm and intent. Perhaps Alexi was right—perhaps he was seriously interested in her. Why shouldn’t she encourage him? He was a seafaring man and she was the daughter of a naval captain. Her father seemed to like him—everyone seemed to like him—and she did not need to marry a fortune, as she had one of her own.
Pain still throbbed in her breast—in her heart—and threatened to erupt if she were not very, very careful.
She walked over to the tray of champagne, wondering if she dare take another flute, wishing desperately to genuinely be happy and gay. Then she could truly enjoy the ball and her suitors. But she felt unsteady in her heels. Surely the champagne would chase the need to cry away. In the past, a glass or two had always made her feel merry. Why couldn’t she feel merry now?
As she reached for a glass, a hand closed on her wrist. “You have had enough,” Alexi warned.
He had come up behind her. She slipped around in such a manner that, for a moment, she was in his arms, her breasts crushed against his chest. His eyes widened. She stared, challenging him silently to deny her attributes. He stepped backward, away from her.
Somehow she knew she had made him uncomfortable. She smiled, pleased. She would never let him see how hurt she was. She was the reigning belle of the ball—the debutante every bachelor wanted—a woman with too many admirers to count and no other cares at all. Surely, he could see that! “I must disagree, Alexi,” she said sweetly. “You may instruct Ariella and Dianna on how much they may or may not drink, but not me.” She smiled archly at him.
His stare narrowed. “Are you crying?”
Was there moisture on her lashes? “Of course not,” she said gaily. Ignoring the pain bubbling in her chest, she smiled as coyly as possible. “Have you suddenly realized that I am a grown woman? Have you noticed how many admirers I have? Have you come to queue up for a dance with me?” And unthinkingly—instinctively—she touched his cheek with her nails and skidded them lightly across his skin there.
He jerked his face back. “I do not want a dance!” He seized her hand, stilling it. “You are inebriated. You need to go home.”
“I’ve only had a glass or two and I am enjoying myself immensely. Aren’t you? Have you even danced a single time?” The pain had miraculously dulled. Alexi was angry with her—and she was pleased.
“No, Elysse, I haven’t danced and I don’t intend to. Cease this absurd pretense! You are going home.” He was final.
“I am not inebriated and I am not going home.” Then she slowly smiled. “Not unless you are offering to take me? Could you so desperately desire my company, the way every other man does?” She lifted her other hand and stroked his cheek. “Oh, wait, I forgot—you are shackled to Louise.”
His eyes were even wider now, his cheeks even redder. “It is Louisa, and I am not shackled to anyone. Are you flirting with me? Would you dare?”
“I flirt with everyone, remember?” she murmured, stepping closer to him. Her chest brushed his satin lapels and she heard his breath catch. She knew a woman’s sense of triumph. He was hardly indifferent to her now! She ignored her own racing pulse. “I am a reckless flirt—no, wait, I am a harlot. You said so, remember? I suppose that makes me just like your paramour!”
“I said you flirt like a harlot,” he said grimly, seizing her shoulders and putting a good distance between them. “Jack can take you home.”
“Like hell he can,” she said softly, swaying against him again.
This time, he did not move away. Elysse thought a fire burned between them. He finally said, “You are making a fool of yourself.”
“Why? Because every eligible man here wants me? Except, of course, for you.” She laughed at him again. “You are immune to my charms…aren’t you? That is why you are breathing so oddly!”
He inhaled. A terrible pause ensued. He finally said roughly, shifting to put a distance between them, “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me. I am simply enjoying this ball, as one hardly knows when we will have another one. But what is wrong with you, Alexi? Why do your eyes burn like that? Surely—surely—you aren’t filled with desire for me? I am a spoiled and selfish princess, after all. Or does that make you my prince? Are you my Prince Charming, Alexi? If so, I imagine you will sweep me into your arms! Oh, wait. That’s impossible—I forgot—you are a boor, not a prince!”
“You are truly drunk,” he said. “Like a sailor, Elysse. You are going home.”
“No, I am not.” She saw Montgomery approaching, his expression concerned. Montgomery clearly did not like Alexi manhandling her. He was her hero and protector now! “I can’t go home, because I promised William a walk in the gardens. Have you noticed how lovely the moon is tonight? They call it a lover’s moon, Alexi. In case you didn’t know.” She had never made such a promise, but a walk with him outside was exactly what she intended now.
His stare was disbelieving. “Are you acting this way to thwart me? Or just because you gain so much pleasure from playing the coquette?”
She laughed at him, stepping past him and holding out her hand to Montgomery. “I am enjoying a wonderful country ball, and now, I am about to enjoy a walk in the moonlight with my very favorite suitor.”
“Are you all right?” Montgomery asked, looking back and forth between them.
“We are having a family argument.” Elysse beamed at him, taking his arm. “Alexi is practically a brother to me, after all. Surely he has told you that?”
Montgomery glanced at Alexi again. When he looked back at Elysse, his gaze softened. “Do you need some fresh air, Elysse?”
“I should love some fresh air,” she responded, looping her arm tightly in his. As she did, she stole a look at Alexi.
He was angry, of that there was no doubt. “She should go home,” Alexi said to Montgomery, his tone hard.
“I’ll see her home when she is ready to go,” the American returned flatly.
Alexi made a harsh sound. Elysse looked back and forth between both men and knew they were fighting over her. She wished she was thrilled. Alexi deserved everything he got tonight. But instead, she felt the hurt all over again. “Let’s go,” she whispered to William.
Alexi gave her a dark, warning look. Then he turned and stalked away.
“Are you sure you are all right?”
“I am having a lovely time,” she told him, forcing a smile. “Aren’t you?”
He smiled at her, guiding her across the ballroom and out of it. “I am having a good time now. I must say, I wasn’t enjoying myself very much while you were dancing with all those other gentlemen.”
His gaze was serious and searching. He truly liked her—perhaps he even loved her. She had been so wrapped up in Alexi’s return that she had failed to realize just how handsome and charming William was. “You don’t have to be jealous,” she said.
He pushed open a door to the terrace. Because it was late March, it remained chilly at night and no one else was
