Seduced at Midnight

look unsightly if she tried.

She reached out and clasped his left hand, lifting it to chin height, elbow bent, then settled her other hand on his shoulder. 'Set your right hand on my back,' she instructed.

Heat sizzled up one arm and down the other, and for several seconds he felt as if he couldn't breathe. Damn. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. He looked into her eyes. She appeared expectant-and quite annoyingly nothing else. Certainly she didn't seem as if she were about to go up in flames as he did. Well, hell. If she could tolerate this, so could he.

He settled his right hand on her back and forced himself not to drag her closer.

'A bit lower,' she said. 'Right at the base of my spine.'

He slowly slid his hand down, his palm brushing over the smooth material of her gown, his mind's eye envisioning the gentle curve of her back.

'Here?' he asked softly, pressing his palm to the small of her back.

Her breath caught slightly, and grim satisfaction filled him. Good. She wasn't as unaffected as she'd like him to think. Why should he be the only one suffering? Of course, she chose just then to moisten her lips, a flick of pink tongue that increased his suffering far more than he would have liked.

'Yes, right there.' She cleared her throat then continued, 'The waltz is a very simple dance, and done to a three beat. As the man, you are the leader, and as your partner, I shall mirror your steps.'

'Which means you'll be treading on my toes as well?'

'You must cease this worrying about my toes. I'm not as delicate as I look. We'll go very slowly. Now, on the first beat, you step gracefully forward with your left foot. At the same time, I'll step back with my right. Ready? Begin.'

He stepped forward, but apparently not gracefully, because his boot landed squarely on her foot.

'Bloody hell,' he said, immediately releasing her and stepping back. 'Are you hurt?'

'My toe is fine. Not to worry, I have nine others.'

'Which I'll no doubt crush on beat two.'

'There are only three beats, Gideon. So how much damage can you possibly do?'

The sound of his name coming from her lips gave him the incentive to at least attempt to redeem himself. 'Hopefully not much.'

Once again she took his hand, and he settled his at the base of her spine. 'This time take a smaller step,' she said. 'We're not trying to get across the room in a single bound.'

'Would have helped if you'd said that the first time,' he grumbled.

He managed to execute the first step without mishap. 'Now what?'

'For the second beat, you're going to step forward and to the right with your right foot-rather like tracing an upside down letter L.'

He tried but obviously traced too large of an L, because his knee banged into hers thigh, a mistake that arrowed heat up his leg. His gaze flicked to hers, and to his annoyance she once again appeared completely unruffled while he felt hot and uncomfortable and as if his clothes had suddenly shrunk.

'Try again,' she said, nodding in an encouraging fashion. 'Just take a smaller step.'

He obeyed, and continued obeying her instructions, which she repeated with unfailing patience, in spite of his many missteps and toe crunches. At first he felt ridiculous and clumsy and utterly ungainly, and the only thing keeping him from quitting was that he couldn't walk away from this opportunity to hold her in his arms. Indeed, he might have done better if he'd had a different teacher-someone whose every touch didn't set his skin on fire. Made it bloody damn difficult to concentrate when a matter of mere inches separated their bodies. Could she feel the heat and desire pumping off him? Didn't seem possible she couldn't, as it felt to him as if it exuded from his pores like vapor rising from a hot spring.

'Very good,' she said, as they made their way around the floor at an excruciatingly slow pace. 'One, two, three. One, two, three. Now let's add a slight turn to the left so we go in a circle.'

The slight turn to the left threw him off, and again he stepped on her toes. 'Damn,' he muttered. 'I'm sorry. I'm not usually so inept.'

'There is nothing inept about you, Gideon,' she said softly.

He jerked his head up from where he'd been glowering at his feet and found her serious blue gaze resting on him with an expression that did nothing to cool his want of her.

'All you need is a bit of practice,' she said, giving his hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze. 'A quarter hour from now, you'll be waltzing as if you were born doing so.'

'Doubtful,' he muttered. A quarter hour from now he needed for this lesson to be over. Before he gave in to his ever-increasing desire to forget the bloody waltz and lower her to the hearth rug and end this hunger gnawing at him.

Gritting his teeth, he tried again, counting one, two, three, one, two, three furiously in his head.

'Excellent,' she praised a moment later. 'Now you need to do that very same thing, but looking at me-with a smile-instead of glaring at your feet. It is a dance, you know. Not a funeral march.'

He raised his gaze, looked into her eyes, and instantly stumbled over his own feet. And stepped on hers.

He uttered what felt like his hundredth apology, but she didn't miss a step, just slowly kept going, around and around, counting softly. After they'd made a complete-albeit extremely slow-circle of the ballroom without mishap, she offered him a beaming smile.

'Excellent. Now we're ready for some music.' She began to softly hum a slow melody. After a moment he asked, 'What song is that?'

'Just one of the dozens of songs I know about flowers and sunshine and grass- filled meadows.' Her lips curved in a mischievous grin. 'Shall I sing 'Apple Dumplin' Shop'?'

He grinned in return. 'Shall I?'

She laughed. 'Good heavens, no. I'll hum another.' She began again, and this time he recognized the song as the one she'd played earlier today. 'That is the tune you composed,' he said. ''Dreams of You.''

She stopped humming and nodded. 'Yes.' Her serious gaze rested on his, and she whispered, ''Dreams of You.''

Again she hummed the haunting melody, and with his gaze locked on hers, unable to look away, they slowly circled the floor. He found himself imagining they stood in a crowded ballroom, and he was dressed in the finest evening attire, and he had every right in the world to approach her, an earl's daughter, and ask her to dance. To take her in his arms where she fit as if made for him alone and circle the ballroom while every other man wished he were Gideon. Who was the luckiest man in the world to be waltzing with her. The most beautiful, desirable woman in the world.

She reached the end of the song, and her sweet hum faded into silence. Their steps slowed then halted. Her eyes glowed up at him, and she smiled. And everything inside him seemed to simultaneously melt and go still.

'I hate to say 'I told you so,'' she murmured, 'but…'

He had to swallow twice to locate his voice. 'Actually, I don't think you hate to say it at all.'

'Perhaps not. You are a lovely dancer.'

'You are a lovely teacher.' Unable to stop himself, he brought their joined hands