The Importance of Love by Barbara Cartland Page A

snowdrop and appeared velvety smooth.
    As he explained his designs to her, he could hear her breathing and sense the rise and fall of her chest, which inordinately stirred him.
    Coughing he moved away lest she sense his growing passion for her.
    â€˜I must not frighten her,’ he told himself. ‘She is nervous of men, that much is apparent and if I wish to set my cap at her, I should move cautiously.’
    At Cork’s insistence, he rolled up the paper and allowed him to serve dinner.
    â€œThey are, of course, far from complete,” he admitted as he tucked the plans away under the table. “But it will have given you an idea of what I wish to achieve.”
    â€œIt will be a wonderful building,” she enthused, looking him straight in the eye. “I should not wonder if you will become famous because of it.”
    â€œThat is what my grandfather would have wished,” he said, feeling a pang of sadness. “He deeply desired that I should make a name for myself in the world of architecture.”
    â€œAnd, no doubt, you will.”
    There was a moment when they simply looked at each other. No words were spoken and the Viscount felt his heart contract.
    â€˜She feels it too,’ he said to himself, as Luella blushed and looked down.
    After dinner he asked if she would care to listen to music in the drawing room.
    â€œI have brought my gramophone from London. And some recordings of my favourite classical pieces. Beethoven, Brahms, Chopin.”
    â€œI should like that very much,” said Luella rising from her chair. “I admit I play the piano rather poorly, but I love music.”
    The Viscount offered her his arm and after a second’s hesitancy, she took it.
    Her bare arm felt warm against his jacket and the Viscount found himself wishing he could touch her soft skin. Cork brought in coffee and wound up the machine before placing a shellac disc on the turntable.
    He brought the heavy arm across the gramophone and carefully set it down so that the needle touched the disc. After a good deal of hissing and a click, the sounds of a romantic piece by Chopin echoed around the room.
    Luella soon found herself transported by the music.
    â€œOh, I did not want it to end,” she sighed, as the needle hit the run-out groove of the disc and stuck there noisily.
    â€œThere is more,” said the Viscount selecting a waltz by Strauss.
    As soon as the music began, Luella could not keep her feet still. She traced the steps of the waltz where she sat and gazed into the distance, wishing that she was on a dance floor.
    â€œYou like to dance?” asked the Viscount seeing her feet moving.
    â€œI adore to dance. There was not much opportunity to dance in Paris – ”
    Her voice trailed off and a far-away look came into her eyes. Seeing her recalling a distant memory, the Viscount leapt up.
    â€œThen, dance with me now.”
    Luella regarded his handsome athletic figure and, judging that he would be fine partner, rose from her chair.
    â€œVery well,” she agreed in a low voice.
    She cast her eyes downwards as he took her in his arms. The music was still playing as they began to slowly waltz around the drawing room.
    All too soon the record coming to an end shattered the Viscount’s reverie. He ran over to the gramophone, quickly wound it up and replaced the needle.
    He took her once more into his arms and whisked her around the carpet. She was laughing and gay and the colour in her cheeks made her more beautiful than ever.
    The Viscount’s head whirled as they moved together and this time, as the music stopped, their faces were just inches apart.
    Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her soft mouth – just for a second. It was a gentle kiss, like rain falling upon a petal.
    His heart soared up to Heaven as for a second Luella returned the kiss, but then pulled away.
    â€œ David ,” she breathed her voice hoarse with