The Ugly Duckling Debutante(11)

“Sit straight, my dear!” Lady Fenton scolded.



“And so it begins,” he grumbled under his breath. He strode over to the girl and kissed her hand quickly. His lips held the tingling sensation long afterward, and it was a good five minutes before he could think logically again.



His cousin droned on interminably about the coming days, and he couldn’t help but allow his eyes and thoughts to wander back to the poor creature seated before him. No doubt she would be eaten alive by the ton. She was too beautiful for her own good. She wore no face paint, not that she needed it at all. Her dark lashes naturally extended further than most women’s and were thick, almost dewy looking. Her lips were pale pink, the color of a fair rose. Her skin was dark, but it framed such a beautiful jawline that one hardly took notice. Her eyes, the same beautiful emeralds from the night before, were like a burning furnace of emotion. She would quite easily have her pick of any man she desired.



It had to be a test from God to be put in the same room as this girl. She is a debutante just like all the rest of them, he kept reminding himself over and over again until he thought he’d go mad.



“Shall we start with a waltz?” Lady Fenton asked, no, it was actually more of a statement. He paled as he looked down at the girl.



“Don’t just sit there,” his cousin bellowed. “Get up! Your looks are no reason to act unapproachable or mute!” The outburst jolted Nicholas, and he glanced quickly to the girl on the settee.



She looked like she had just been struck, yet a certain intelligence hung behind her eyes, making him feel as if he was in for a lot more than lessons. It was obvious she had a temper, even though she concealed it quite well. It would behoove him to remember that in case he accidently provoked the poor thing.



An image of her chasing after her aunt with her fan entered his mind; he cleared his throat to mask the chuckle trying to betray his amusement and held his hand out to her. She eyed him reluctantly before accepting it. Her touch sent familiar sensations shuddering all the way down to his toes; it was like stepping into Dante’s Inferno. How long had it been since he experienced this depth of attraction? Oh yes—around twelve hours. He had gone two whole years without any hint of scandal or misconduct, yet one simple touch from this maiden was enough to undo him.



Nicholas led her gently to the middle of the room. He bowed casually before asking, “Are we sure this dance is appropriate for Miss—” He looked down at her in question. Ironically, Lady Fenton failed to make the proper introductions, or he somehow missed the name of the beauty.



“Sai. You may call me Sai,” she informed him in a smooth sultry voice. He nearly moaned in agony. How could he have forgotten her voice was that of a temptress? Had he not already determined he was in Hell? Might as well add her voice to the list of completely spell-binding tortures she wielded.



She curtsied uncertainly before him, bowing her head slightly forward. A few tendrils of her velvety black hair fell onto her forehead, escaping the hairpins. Impulsively, he reached forward and brushed the wandering strands from her face, shocking himself and Sai, leaving both of them staring at each other as if the sun had suddenly stopped shining.



He coughed again self-consciously and grasped her hands in his own. “Is this your first waltz, Sai?” Small talk. That will make it less awkward, he reasoned with himself.



Her eyelashes fluttered instinctively down. “Yes, my lord.”



“You don’t need to address me so formally.”



“Oh, yes she does!” Lady Fenton flared from the side. “Now, both of you, a little closer.”



He groaned inwardly while pulling Sai closer. Any closer and I’m going to compromise her right here in this room with her aunt watching. He swallowed hard and continued to hold her close. The heat between them escalated by the minute, leaving him smoldering in a cold sweat from his effort to avoid looking in her eyes.



Against his better judgment, he pulled her a little closer and whispered into her ear so Lady Fenton couldn’t hear, “You may call me Nicholas. All of my friends do. And you will need a friend when she launches you onto society at the end of the week.” Of course, his friends never used his real name, but Sai didn’t need to know that, and his heart yearned for the familiarity it would give them.



Not without difficulty, Nicholas drew back to an appropriate distance. The electricity between them was hypnotizing, and his head swam in its dizzying effects. It would be so easy to forget they were not alone in the room and linger closely in her intoxicating presence, but under the circumstances, it would be most inappropriate—and for him, dangerous.