When the devilishly handsome bartender delivered her white wine, Tess said, “Just bring the whole bottle.”

He raised his dark brows at her, but complied with her request. At this point, she didn’t particularly care if she looked like a lush. The people at this event had no right to judge her anyway. She normally only drank a glass or two of wine every few months, so she was overdue for some serious liquid therapy.

After downing the glass quickly, she poured herself another. The idea that she should probably eat something before drinking any more dawned on her, but she quickly dismissed it. The tasteless, rubbery chicken they normally served at these types of events didn’t sound nearly as appetizing as another glass of wine did.

Steeling herself to see her best friend dancing the night away with the prince she had always dreamed of, Tess turned around. She must have spun a tad too quickly because she faltered and had to grab hold of the bar to keep from falling.

Quick as a wink, the man that had been standing just behind the prince during the royal introductions leaped forward to catch her. He steadied her by cupping her elbow and encouraging her to lean in his direction.

At first glimpse, Tess felt charmed by his chivalry. Perhaps her knight in shining armor wasn’t a prince after all. When the man spoke, though, he immediately ruined her amorous feelings.

Deftly removing the glass from her hand and turning to place it on the bar, the man said, “Perhaps you’ve had enough wine for tonight.”

Some tiny, still-rational part of Tess’s mind knew that he was probably right, but her emotions were suddenly the dominant majority, and they were furious. They quickly won the battle of how to react to his suggestion.

“How dare you?” Tess glared up at him. He was tall––at least six feet––which forced her to crane her neck up to look at him. That annoyed her even more.

“How dare I?” He seemed perplexed by her flash of anger, but his dark chocolate eyes were sparking with interest. “How dare YOU? What kind of lady comes to a charity gala and proceeds to get soused at the open bar?”

Tess spluttered. No one ever spoke to her this way. Exactly who did he think he was?!?

Sensing her fury and making an attempt to calm her down, the man changed gears. “Look, I think we have started off on the wrong foot. His Royal Highness seems to have taken a liking your friend, so it might be in our best interest to make an effort to get along.”

Tess gaped at him, stunned by the quick about-face in the man’s demeanor. When he introduced himself as Sebastian Savoy, Royal Steward, and held his hand out to her, she merely stared down at it, opening her mouth and closing it a few times like a carp out of water.

Filling in the awkward silence, Sebastian retracted his hand while saying, “And you’re Tess Donovan.”

At this, Tess couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “How did you know that?”

Sebastian gave her a wide, knowing smile. It would have been charming coming from anyone else, but from this man, it grated on her nerves. “Your reputation precedes you, my dear.”

Her anger finally boiling over, Tess yanked her arm from his grip and stormed away. She wanted to get as far from Sebastian as possible. Quietly fuming, she muttered to herself. “My reputation precedes me… What does that even mean?” She felt quite certain that the cocky, annoying jerk wasn’t referring to her positive attributes.

Skirting the dance floor to avoid getting any closer to Mo and the prince, she stalked to the far side of the ballroom. Silently cursing that she’d left her wine behind, she paced and fumed.

When a slightly older man, whom she recognized as one of her brothers’ acquaintances, asked her to dance, she gladly accepted. She needed something to focus on other than the prince and his haughty helper.

Her dance partner proved himself to be an elegant gentleman as he swept her gracefully around the polished dance floor. His salt-and-pepper hair gave him a distinguished air that she probably would have taken more notice of, had she not been so consumed by angry thoughts about Sebastian.

Tess forced herself to smile at Mo when they caught each other’s gaze across the crowded dance floor. She knew that her friend hadn’t intended to steal the prince, so she didn’t want Mo to feel bad about enjoying her time with him.

For her part, Mo looked incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn’t just the leery look of someone who feared she might be hurting a friend. Her face also displayed an air of sheer terror that she was already in way over her head. Her dance moves had improved slightly with the prince’s tutelage, but her feet still clomped like she was mucking around in a barn, rather than floating elegantly around a stylish ballroom.

When Tess caught sight of Sebastian dancing with a leggy blonde, she couldn’t explain the flare of jealousy that surged within her. The man was one of the most infuriating and annoying people she had ever encountered. It didn’t make sense for her to suddenly long to be the one in his arms.

Despite her tipsiness, Tess’s years of dance classes and her natural fluidity allowed her to hold her own as a light-footed dance partner. The man she was dancing with tried a few times to engage her in conversation, but she was too engrossed in spying on Mo, the prince, and Sebastian to pay him much attention.

When the song ended, the man, seeming determined to win Tess over, asked her for a second dance. She nodded in agreement, mostly so she could keep a closer eye on what was happening with the others.

As a slower song began playing, Tess watched as Sebastian bowed gallantly before the blonde. She giggled and preened as he bid her adieu. Tess rolled her eyes at his blatant stunt. He probably used that royal etiquette garbage to weasel his way into girls’ hearts and pants. Well, there was no way she was going to fall for that ploy.

Tess was so focused on him that she barely noticed when her dance partner pulled her into a more intimate embrace and began swaying to the love ballad.

When Sebastian spotted Tess across the floor, he bee-lined in her direction. For the first time all evening, Tess stumbled and nearly stepped on her dance partner’s foot. She smiled at the blunder and made a sincere attempt to focus on the man in front of her as he pulled her into an even tighter embrace.

She could feel Sebastian’s bold stare on her back as a drop of perspiration dripped down her side. For some reason, she was hyper-aware of the royal steward’s location and movements.

Sebastian finally made it through the crowd and across the dance floor. He stood before them and turned to Tess’s dance partner. “May I cut in?” The question and the sentiment were both rather rude, but somehow with Sebastian’s flourishing way of speaking, it came off with a polite air––almost like he was doing them a favor.

Proving that he was a true gentleman, Tess’s dance partner responded, “Of course.” The look on his face was slightly miffed, but he moved on without complaint.

When Sebastian squared his frame and took Tess’s hand in his own, the difference in the skill levels of her dance partners was immediately apparent. Her previous partner had been technically adept and perfectly acceptable, but Sebastian’s fluid and graceful movements made it feel like they were floating on air as they slowly swished around the dance floor.

Sebastian’s stance wasn’t nearly as intimate as her previous partner’s was, however it felt like a thousand butterflies were suddenly fluttering to life in Tess’s stomach. His hand resting just above the curve of her hip felt warm and good––almost too good. Her focus was drawn to its heat. When his fingers moved, lightly caressing her, she almost faltered.

Forcing her attention elsewhere, she looked into his eyes. They were dark brown, like smooth melted chocolate, and they were looking intently at her.

His steady gaze making her feel uncomfortable, Tess quickly looked away. She found Mo and the prince on the dance floor and watched them sway to the music. The slower song had allowed them to stop pretending that Mo had any real dance skills. She was now resting her head on the prince’s lapel as they moved back and forth from one foot to the other.

Tess couldn’t help but feel jealous that her friend was spending the entire evening dancing with the prince. That should be Tess in his embrace.

Sebastian took note of her longing gaze. “So, you thought the prince would like you?”

His disparaging tone set Tess’s teeth on edge. Jerking her head back as if she’d been slapped, she responded, “Is that such an outrageous idea?”

She had assumed that Sebastian would reply that no, it was completely feasible to think that the prince might have fallen for her. So, when he had the audacity to scoff and say, “Yes, you’re not his type at all,” she felt utterly outraged.

Shoving back and glaring up at him, she said, “We’re done here,” before flouncing away to fume and quite possibly cuss a little.