Chapter Two
THE CELEBRATION AFTER the wedding was held at Kyria’s house, and it was easy to see Kyria’s touch. Great swaths of white satin and silver netting were draped artistically about the ballroom, glowing in the warm light of wall sconces, and the air was perfumed with the scent of hundreds of white roses, creating a richly romantic backdrop. In the garden, tiny lights lined the pathways and dotted the branches.
A small orchestra was playing at one end of the room, the dance floor empty as Alex took Sabrina out for their first dance as a married couple. Lilah stood with the others, watching them.
Sabrina gazed up at her groom, her face so alight with love it almost made Lilah’s chest hurt. Lilah tried to imagine what it must be like to feel so much for another person that one’s face simply shone with it. Lilah had some difficulty with the notion. She herself did not lack for suitors, many of them quite eligible men, but she had never felt even a tingle of such feeling.
Alex clearly was just as much in love as Sabrina. Lilah had watched him earlier as Sabrina came down the aisle, his face alight with love. She had glanced at Con then, wondering what he felt on this occasion. It must be strange to lose one’s twin to marriage. Irritating as Con was, Lilah had felt a little pang of sympathy for him.
But then Con flashed that cocky grin at her and winked. In the middle of a wedding. It was typical of the man. She didn’t know why she bothered to feel any sympathy for him. Constantine Moreland never took anything seriously. Well, almost never—Lilah had seen his face two months ago when Alex was kidnapped, and Con’s face then had been downright frightening.
When the stately first waltz ended, other couples joined the newlyweds on the dance floor. Lilah glanced around, certain she would see Con among the dancers. She wondered who he would choose to partner. He had never seemed to favor any particular girl with his attentions. He had even danced with her that one time.
Though he would never do so again, no doubt. Lilah blushed at that memory. Con thought her irredeemably foolish for the way she had reacted when he asked her to walk in the garden with him after their dance. Lilah knew now that she had been impulsive and silly; she had only recently come out, and her greenness had showed. Not that she had been wrong—a man didn’t ask a young girl to walk in the garden at a party unless his intentions were less than virtuous. But she had learned since then how to turn aside such a man without resorting to anything so overwrought as slapping him.
Lilah scowled down at her glove, needlessly fussing with the button. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of Alex’s cousins making his way toward her. Albert had apparently taken a liking to Lilah; he had dogged her footsteps all day. She’d managed to slip away each time, but she had the gloomy suspicion she wouldn’t be able to dodge him this time. She could hardly be impolite to one of the Moreland family, but, having danced with Cousin Albert at the engagement party, Lilah knew that taking to the floor with him would not only be a dreadful bore but also a very real danger to her toes.
Hoping he had not realized she’d spotted him, Lilah started to turn away. Just at that moment, a man behind her said, “Miss Holcutt. Would you care to dance?”
“Con!” She whirled. “Oh, thank God.”
His green eyes twinkled. “What an unexpectedly enthusiastic response. I daresay you must have seen Cousin Albert setting his course.”
“Yes.” There was no need to pretend politeness where Con was concerned.
She took his arm and Con whisked her away to the dance floor, pulling her to him and seamlessly joining the other dancers. Lilah had forgotten what it was like to dance with Con—so quick and light, his hand firm on her waist, holding her a trifle closer than was appropriate. It was easy to match his steps, to follow the guide of his hand. He was an expert dancer, and one had only to let go and trust him.
She could not keep from smiling up at him. It was better not to encourage Con—he was already too full of himself—and she was always careful not to do anything that would draw attention, but right now she was enjoying herself too much to care.
When the music ended, Lilah was flushed and breathless, surging with energy. She would have liked to dance again, but of course, that would never do; even Con would know better than that. Whipping open her delicate ivory and lace fan, she tried to cool her overheated face. Con led her toward the open windows, snagging two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handing her one.
Lilah rarely drank wine of any sort, but she was too thirsty not to take a great gulp of it. It fizzed in her mouth, tingling and cool, yet with its own delicious sting, as well, and she drank the rest of it. Con’s eyebrows shot up.
“Careful. I can’t have you getting foxed on me.” He plucked the empty glass from her hand and set it aside.
“I won’t. It’s just so hot in here.”
Con glanced toward the French doors, standing open to the terrace, then back to her. “Dare I suggest we step outside? I assure you I won’t try to lure you into the garden this time.”
Lilah cast him a speaking glance and took his arm, turning toward the open doors. “One can only wonder why you did so the first time, considering that you think I’m such a prig.”
He chuckled and took a sip from his glass. “I am, as you have pointed out, entirely too impulsive.”
“That’s no answer.” But Lilah was feeling too companionable at the moment to pursue the subject. Her customary annoyance with Con had vanished with the waltz.
They strolled the length of the terrace, now and then passing another couple doing the same. Lilah lifted her flushed face to the cool night air. She began to hum the waltz beneath her breath, wishing she could dance along the terrace. She smiled to herself at the idea of causing such a commotion. Con’s jaw would drop. She had to press her lips together tightly to hold back a giggle.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have gulped down that glass of champagne. It wasn’t like her. Or perhaps it had been the dance, whirling around the room in Con Moreland’s arms. That, too, had been unlike her. Most likely it was because she was with Con; there was something about him that encouraged misbehavior.
He said inappropriate things that made her laugh. His smile, his wink, that twinkle in his eye just before he did or said something outrageous, enticed one to go along with him. If he had been a woman, people would have termed him a temptress. She wasn’t sure what one called such a man. Dangerous came to mind.
She glanced up at Con, so close beside her she could feel the warmth of his body. As if sensing her gaze, he turned his head. With only the mellow light streaming from the windows of the ballroom behind them, Con’s face was half-shadowed, his eyes dark. But the dimness could not hide how handsome he was—the firm chin and square jaw, the way his mouth curved up slightly, as if he was about to break into a grin.
It was odd how much he looked like his twin, and yet she had never felt a twinge of attraction to Alex. When she first met Con’s brother, she had realized almost immediately that he was not Con. There had been no spark running along her nerves, no tightening of her stomach. Alex was easy to talk to; with Con, Lilah always felt as if she needed to be on her guard.
If she wasn’t careful, she might stumble. And Lilah was a person who liked her feet firmly planted on the ground. It was disconcerting to have this uncertainty. It was even more alarming that it also excited her. Surely that was not how it ought to be.
They reached the end of the walkway and turned to look out over the garden below. Delicate paper lanterns lit the garden paths, but up here on the terrace, they were deep in shadow. Con set his glass on the wide stone balustrade and leaned casually against a column, his eyes on Lilah rather than the view.
Lilah’s pulse picked up. It was dim and secluded here, the occasional sound of a voice a distant background. She remembered the other time she had stood on a terrace with Con, almost breathless with a volatile combination of excitement, anxiety and a guilty certainty that her aunt would not approve.
“Tell me, truly,” Lilah said impulsively. “That night...why did you even ask me to dance, much less stroll in the garden with you? I understand your doing so tonight—I’m your new sister-in-law’s friend, and you must be polite. But why did you ask me to dance back then?”
“Have you looked in a mirror?” Con countered.
“You were swept away by my beauty?” Lilah cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “There were dozens of pretty young girls there, and I would wager I am not the sort you normally dance with. Much less take out on the terrace with ulterior motives.”
“My motives weren’t ulterior. I thought they were quite straightforward.”
Lilah was reminded why she found him irritating. She turned away, fixing her eyes on the flowers and shrubs below. “Was it—Did you do it because I was newly out? Because you thought I would be so naive I wouldn’t realize I was risking my reputation?”
“No!” Con’s voice was filled with affront and astonishment. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t ask you to dance because I thought I could trick you into anything. Do you really think that badly of me?”
Lilah relaxed, surprised at how relieved she was by his indignant response. “No. Not really. Well, perhaps I did wonder that a bit. Afterwards.” When he never approached her again.
“I asked you to dance because I wanted to waltz with you. I asked you out on the terrace to spend more time with you without the noise of the party. And I asked you to take a stroll through the garden because...very well, I did hope I might get a chance to kiss you. But I didn’t want to kiss you because you were the low-hanging fruit on a tree.”
“Or to add another girl to your collection?”
“My collection!” Con goggled at her. “What the devil do you take me for? I don’t have a collection. I’m not some rogue out seducing young ladies. Good Lord, Lilah, but you are a suspicious woman.”
“It’s not so absurd to suspect that,” she retorted. “You find me rigid, prim and proper.”
“You forgot judgmental.”
“Oh, yes, sorry—and judgmental.” She crossed her arms, glaring at him. “So why would you want to dance with such a woman?”
“If you must know, it was because you were wearing lilac stockings.”
“What?” Lilah stared at him.
He shrugged and turned away, now the one to keep his eyes on the view. “You asked.”
“But why...how...”
“It’s nice to know I can render you speechless.”
“That’s absurd. How could you know what color stockings I had on? I don’t even remember what color they were.”
“Clearly the sight of them made more of an impression on me than it did on you.” Con glanced back at her. “I was standing at the foot of the stairs when you came in. You were so terribly prim and proper, all in maidenly white, modestly covered to your neck, your face blankly polite, your hair braided and curled into a knot like a governess, your chaperone glued to your side. I thought, there’s a beauty, but she looks an utter bore.”
“How kind of you,” Lilah said drily. “But that hardly explains why you decided to ask me for a waltz.”
“You climbed the stairs, lifting your skirt to keep from stepping on it, and I saw your ankles. You were wearing bright lilac stockings. And I thought, there’s more to her than meets the eye.” He paused, considering. “Besides, you have lovely ankles.”
Lilah gaped at him, then began to laugh. His reasoning was so strange, so very Con-like—flattering, insulting and preposterous all at once—that she couldn’t work up either affront or anger, only a baffled amusement.
“You should do that more often,” Con told her.
“What?”
“Laugh. You look quite beautiful.”
“Oh.” She hoped the darkness concealed her blush. Otherwise, Con would doubtless tease her about it every time they met.
Except, of course, she would not see him now that the wedding was over. Constantine Moreland didn’t typically frequent the sort of parties Lilah attended with her aunt. He preferred more exciting entertainment. Even when they did attend the same function, Con did his best to avoid her. Her life now would return to its usual pattern. Lilah sighed as she thought of the weeks ahead, paying calls and receiving visitors in her aunt’s parlor.
“What is it?” Con asked. When she glanced at him questioningly, he explained, “You sighed just now. Is something wrong?”
“What? Oh. I didn’t realize I had.” Her cheeks, already pink, flamed. “I was, um, just thinking that things would settle back to normal now that the wedding is done.”
“Yes, it will likely be more boring.”
“I didn’t mean that,” she protested. “I meant, it will be quieter. Calmer. But that’s a good thing. One can rest and relax and, um...”
“Embroider handkerchiefs?” Con suggested, raising an eyebrow.
She glowered. “I’m sure there will be nothing so mundane for you. You’ll be off chasing ghosts or seeking the meaning of Stonehenge.”
“Hopefully I’ll find an adventure or two to pass the time.” He grinned down at her. “Here, now, don’t look so grim.” He smoothed his finger over the lines of her frown, then moved to her cheek, lightly skimming a strand of hair that had escaped its pins.
Self-consciously Lilah moved to pin the stray curl back in place, but Con reached out to stop her. “No, don’t. It’s lovely like that.”
“Like what...a mess?” She forced a bit of tartness into her voice to combat the sudden heat his touch stirred in her.
“I doubt that anything about you is ever a mess.” Con stroked his thumb lazily along her cheekbone. His smile was still there, but different now, no longer amused but warm and inviting. There was a look in his eyes very like the way she’d seen Alex gaze at Sabrina. Dark and a little hazy.
Lilah could not pull her gaze from Con’s. Her breath caught in her throat, and her thoughts went tumbling madly. She definitely should not have drunk that glass of champagne.
Con’s hands went to her waist, tugging her a little closer. “Tell me, Miss Holcutt, would you slap me this time if I kissed you?”
Her heart skipped a beat. She should pull away from him. Toss back a sharp set-down for his boldness. But what came from her mouth was only a whispered, “No, I wouldn’t slap you.”
He bent his head, and she closed her eyes, as if she could hide what she was doing from herself. Con’s lips brushed over hers gently...once, twice. She felt his smile against her lips, then his mouth settled onto hers, his arms gliding around her, pulling her into him.
His kiss was slow and easy and thorough, his tongue stealing into her mouth and setting off a firestorm of pleasurable sensations. It was overwhelming, his kiss as dizzying as the champagne she’d drunk. Lilah was flooded with hunger. Urges she’d never imagined roiled inside her. She had no idea what to do, but she wanted to feel more, have more.
Lilah wasn’t aware when she had put her hands on his arms, but now she dug her fingers into the cloth, holding on. It seemed forever, yet was over all too fast. Con raised his head and stared down at her, his expression caught somewhere between amazement and dismay.
Then his arms tightened around her, crushing her into him, and his mouth returned to hers. This time his kiss wasn’t easy, wasn’t gentle, but, shockingly, Lilah welcomed it. She went up on her toes, her arms wrapping around his neck and her lips answering his with abandon. Her heart slammed in her chest, and her very blood seemed on fire. She felt reckless and wild, utterly unlike herself, and it was glorious.
Con’s hands slid down her back, pressing her into him, and his mouth left hers to kiss her cheek, her jaw, her throat. She shivered at the velvety touch on her sensitive skin. Someone moaned softly, and Lilah realized with a start that the sound had come from her. Con kissed his way downward, reaching the hollow of her throat. His tongue teased around the pearl drop there, tracing a circle. Her abdomen flooded with heat.
Masculine laughter came from the door to the ballroom as three men stepped out onto the terrace, chatting among themselves. Lilah froze, the realization of what she was doing stabbing through her haze of passion. Con swung around so that his back was to the men, his body between any onlooker and her.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “They can’t see you.”
“No, no...” she said shakily, pulling back from him. What was she doing? Her hand came up to cover her tingling lips. An entirely different heat flowed through her now. She was behaving like the loosest of women—agreeing to slip out onto the dark terrace, letting him kiss her, more than that, kissing him back! “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t—Goodbye.”
Lilah slipped around him and hurried back into the ballroom.
Don’t miss HIS WICKED CHARM by Candace Camp
Available April 2018 from HQN Books!
Copyright © 2018 by Candace Camp