Belle followed the sound of music and stood in the ballroom, watching dancers attired in satins and silks swirling around the floor in time to a lilting waltz.
Suddenly she got that unnerving feeling she got when someone was staring at her. The sensation was so strong she could almost feel the eyes on her, and then a deep voice seemed to leap out from behind her, and said, ‘Dance with me.’
Belle turned in astonishment as the officer materialised from the shadows. Belle recognised that mocking smile—it was identical to the one he had given her across the table, when he’d caught her inadvertently staring at him. His voice was deep and throaty, like thick honey. It was a seductive voice that made her think of highly improper things. It seemed to caress each word he uttered, and she knew there couldn’t be many women who could resist a voice like that, not if the man speaking looked like Lord Bingham. But she told herself she needn’t worry, for she was completely immune to that potent masculine allure.
‘That would not be appropriate. I don’t know you.’
Lance laughed at her. ‘Well, my fine lady, you should indeed know me—and if you don’t, I will tell you that I am Lance Bingham, at your service. Now does my name sound familiar?’
‘My grandmother has already told me who you are,’ Belle replied coolly.
‘I thought she might.’
She looked at him directly. ‘Why does she not like you?’
Instead of reacting with offence, he merely chuckled. ‘You should ask your grandmother. You may find what she has to tell you—interesting.’ He grinned, his mouth curving up at one corner. Beneath his heavy, drooping lids his eyes were filled with amusement, and idle speculation. ‘What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?’
She cocked a dark, finely arched brow above a baleful glare, which, with the chillingly beautiful smile, could have frozen the heart of the fiercest opponent. Woe to the man this woman unleashed her wrath upon.
‘I’m minding my own business. I suggest you mind yours.’
He grinned. ‘You’re outspoken.’
‘None of your business. Why don’t you just go away?’
‘Hostile, too. I don’t often encounter hostility from young ladies.’
‘I’m surprised.’
‘You’re not impressed?’
‘Not a bit.’
Those seductive blue eyes settled on her. ‘Well, Miss Isabelle, I find you quite challenging.’
‘You do?’
‘Did anyone ever tell you you’re quite lovely?’
‘All the time.’
‘And you’ve got lovely hair. You’re got a provocative mouth, too.’
‘Save your breath. I am not interested.’
‘No?’ He arched a brow.
‘Not in the slightest.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘You are very convincing. You actually make a woman believe you are speaking the truth—but then you have undoubtedly had a great deal of practice.’
He grinned. ‘True, but I am sincere.’
Belle could feel her cheeks warming as she met those smiling blue eyes. ‘You seem terribly sure of yourself, my lord.’
‘And I can see you’re not easily taken in, but can you not understand what a man like myself experiences in the presence of such a beautiful woman?’
Belle peered at him frostily. ‘And I can see you’re all talk.’
Leaning forwards, Lance ensnared her gaze and carefully probed those dark green eyes as a slow smile curved his lips. ‘You’ve got me all wrong. You’ve awakened emotions within me that I was sure I was incapable of feeling—some of which are appreciative—others I’m simply struggling to restrain.’
‘Then you will just have to curb your emotions, my lord, for I am not interested.’
He cocked a sleek black brow. ‘No?’
‘Conceited, aren’t you? Conceited and arrogant.’
He pretended offence. ‘You do me a terrible injustice. In fact, you make me feel quite downcast and disconsolate. Here I am, complimenting you on your beauty, and you start casting aspersions on my character. You think I’m insufferable?’
‘Quite,’ she agreed heatedly.
‘That’s quite a temper you have,’ he said, shaking his head in teasing, chiding reproof. ‘And here I was thinking that you wanted me to ask you to dance.’
Her eyes flared. ‘Do you actually think I was waiting for you to ask me?’
Her show of outrage bestirred his hearty laughter. Thoroughly incensed, Belle glowered at him until his amusement dwindled to nothing more than a slanted grin. ‘You can’t fault a soldier recently returned from the wars for hoping that such would be the case. You really are quite the most enticing female I’ve met. So, what do you say? Will you dance with me?’
‘No. Like I said, you are insufferable. I don’t think I like you very much.’
‘A little would do. Actually, I’m quite delightful once you get to know me. I do have a reputation, I admit it frankly—but I’ve been dreadfully maligned. You shouldn’t believe all you hear about me.’
Belle gazed at him with a cool hauteur. After a moment he smiled a devilishly engaging smile, offended demeanour gone.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to dance?’
‘Quite sure,’ she retorted.
‘You don’t know what you’re missing.’
‘Sore feet, probably.’
‘It’s a long time since I trod on a lady’s toes, Belle.’
Her heart lurched at his familiar use of her name. ‘Maybe so, but I will not risk it. I did not invite you to ask me to dance.’
He grinned unrepentantly. ‘I know. I took it upon myself. Always was impetuous.’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me? If you will excuse me, I see my grandmother beckoning to me.’
Lance Bingham gave her a mock-polite nod, eyelids drooping, a half-smile playing on his mouth. Lowering his head, he spoke softly into her ear, his warm breath fanning her neck. Mingled with an underlying essence of soap, the pleasantly aromatic bouquet of his cologne drifted into her nostrils and twined amazingly through her senses, and she found the manly fragrance intoxicating.
‘Go if you must, but I will not give up.’
True
