Beyond Innocence by Emma Holly Page B

the end of her fan. "You don't really dislike her, do you? I'd hate to think so. Because she's obviously a nice girl and just
as obviously perfect for your brother. If you meant to be cruel, I would be forced to greatly lower my estimation of your character."
    Edward was startled to hear Miss Vance had any estimation of him at all. Taken aback, he had only enough presence of mind to blink when she grabbed both his wrists and pulled him onto the crowded floor. What a hellion she was to behave this outrageously in public!
    "We'll dance straight to her," she said, lifting his arms into the appropriate position. "My brother Peter has got her now and he's already stood up with her twice. Once more and Mama will fear he means to make a declaration. He'll know he must relinquish her to you."
    Contrary to Edward's expectations, Miss Vance, the freckle-faced, horse-mad girl, proved a neat dancer. Almost before he knew it, she'd spun them through the other couplesto Florence 's side. He wasn't certain, but he suspected Miss Vance had been leading.
    * * *
    Florence 's world shrankdown to a single soul. Edward stood before her. Tall Edward. Grave Edward. Edward of the burning eyes and the beautiful mouth. Peter Vance faded into insignificance, though he'd stepped a mere foot away. Freddie's older brother was all that she could see. This was not good, she thought, not good at all.
    "Oh," she said stupidly, and put one hand to her stays to keep her heart from bursting through. "Edward."
    " Florence ," he said, with a low, formal bow. How broad his shoulders were, and how well his black tailcoat showed off the trimness of his waist! With customary dignity, he straightened. "Might I have the honor of this dance?" Florence blinked. "You wish to dance with me?" He frowned and at once she felt more clearheaded. A scowling Edward she was used to.
    "Yes, I wish to dance with you. Have you some objection, cousin?"
    "Oh, no," she said. "I—I'd be happy to."
    "Well then," he said.
    As if on cue, the orchestra struck up a waltz. Her skin tingled as he took her in his arms. At once, she knew this dance was different. Edward held her with complete assurance, born to rule the ballroom. The hand he'd placed on her waist almost rifted her through the steps.
    "Stop looking at your feet," he whispered, his cheek for one moment pressed to hers.
    At the touch, her limbs turned to honey, liquid and warm, as if she'd been set in the sun.
    "Oh," she said, enchanted in spite of every scrap of sense that spoke against it. "Oh, my, you dance divinely."
    He laughed, the second time she'd heard him do so. She wanted to hear that happy sound again. She wanted to hear it every day. His arm tightened and suddenly her breasts were pressed lightly to his chest. That, she thought dizzily, was even better. His legs, so long, so sure, brushed the front of her skirts. She had only to follow their motion; had only to let him lead.
    "It's like flying," she said, helpless to keep her smile inside.
    He grinned back at her, his face creasing upward, his bright blue eyes agleam. "It's dancing, Florence , the way it was meant to be."
    She caught her breath with pleasure as he spun her even faster. The other couples seemed to part like the sea before them. The music swooped, giddy, magical. She took a firmer grip on his shoulders and closed her eyes.
    "You're as lovely as a rose," he murmured, just loudly enough for her to hear.
    With a quiet sigh, he gathered her closer still. She felt the warmth of his body, the hardness of his chest. His breath came quickly from his exertions. In. Out. Stirring her hair. Warming her cheek. The sound put a spell on her. Something throbbed inside her: an ache, a nameless want. She thought she heard him whisper her name. Yes, she thought, and her lips moved soundlessly on the word. He must have seen her do it. His hand tightened on hers, his fingers strong, sending a message her body could not help but read. Without warning, a flood of heat washed