Pride and Fire by Jomarie Degioia Page A

to make any sense of this point of view?”
    He rubbed a hand over his eyes, cursing softly. He closed the file in mild frustration and pushed away from his desk. It was time to get ready for the evening. The thought of Michelle set all the inconvenience and worry of the afternoon away from him.
    Whistling, he climbed the stairs to his chamber.
     
    * * * *
     
    Paul’s carriage rocked to a stop in front of Michelle’s home. He stepped out and gave careful attention to his dress, tugging on his cuffs and brushing off his sleeves. He wore his black formal attire with a blue brocade waistcoat and crisp white cravat. He wished to look his best for his future bride. Future bride. Amazing. Glancing up at the impressive home, he thought once more of his financial problems, the matter never far from his mind. Would she be satisfied to live in comfort instead of opulence?
    He climbed the steps to the glossy red door and rang the bell, shifting nervously from one booted foot to the other.
    The butler opened the door and bowed low to him. Before Paul could ask for Michelle Lady Helen arrived.
    “Lord Leed.” Lady Helen smiled. “How wonderful to see you this evening.”
    Turning from the servant, he bowed low to Michelle’s mother. “Good evening, Lady Helen. How are you this evening?”
    “Just fine, dear,” she answered. “Just fine. You look very handsome, if I may say so.”
    He nodded to accept her compliment. “Is Lady Michelle nearly ready?”
    “Oh, do let me go see if she—”
    “I’m ready, Mother,” Michelle said from the top of the stairs.
    Paul turned and looked up then, his eyes widening in appreciation. He watched as she descended, unable to drag his gaze from her. The deep blue gown she wore made her skin more luminous. Her sapphire pendant drew his eyes to the swell of her bosom. The stone was nearly the size of his thumb. He blinked and brought his gaze back up to her face as Michelle reached the bottom of the stairs.
    “Hello, Michelle,” he said with a bow.
    “Good evening, Paul,” she returned, her lips curved in a smile.
    He took her hand in his and tugged her gently toward him. He placed a kiss on her cheek, brushing his lips against her ear as he did so. “You look incredible, love.”
    She blushed at the compliment, a fetching pink color spreading from the swell of her beautiful bosom to the roots of her fiery hair. Mmm. He was suddenly reminded of her mother’s presence when the woman cleared her throat.
    He straightened, turning once more to Lady Helen.
    “Go on, you two,” she instructed. “Have a pleasant evening.”
    Paul and Michelle both nodded and bade her good evening, taking their leave. On the sidewalk outside, Paul held her hand fast. She glanced at him in mild curiosity as his eyes roamed over her.
    “What is it, Paul?” she asked, running her hands over her skirt. “Is something wrong?”
    “My God, Michelle,” he said in a low voice. “I daresay it’s a good thing we have such a short ride this evening.”
    She wore an expression of coyness, but he knew better. “And what would we do if the ride were a bit longer?”
    He grinned wickedly at her and she laughed. He handed her up into the carriage and climbed in to sit beside her. Turning quickly toward her, he cupped her face in his hands. His lips brushed hers in a gentle kiss.
    He pulled back and smiled at her. “I couldn’t wait another moment to do that.”
    She let out a little breath in answer. He settled back against the cushion and held her hand in his as the carriage pulled away from the curb and rolled on toward the party.
    When they arrived, the bash was well underway. Paul and Michelle greeted their hostess and joined the other revelers in the ballroom. They’d just stepped down into the room when they found themselves surrounded by Paul’s friends.
    “Leed,” one man said. “Where on earth have you been?”
    “Yes,” another cut in. “Are you going to make the introductions?”
    Paul grinned