Seduced at Midnight

to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the backs of her fingers. Her breath caught at the gesture, and he felt a tremor run through her, one he longed to feel again.

'Thank you,' he murmured against her fingers. 'For the most enjoyable waltz I've ever experienced.'

A breathless-sounding laugh escaped her. 'That was the only waltz you've ever experienced.'

True. But he knew damn well that even if he'd experienced a thousand of them, that one still would have been his favorite. He wanted to tell her that, wanted to let her know how heartbreakingly beautiful she looked. How incredible she felt in his arms. How easy it would be to simply stand here all night long, just looking at her. Breathing in her subtle vanilla scent. How much he wanted to kiss her. Make love to her. Make her his.

Bloody hell, he needed to get away from her. Now. Before a simple dance turned into something very complicated. Something they'd both regret.

The memory of them together flashed in his mind… of Julianne lying on the drawing room hearth rug, her skirts bunched about her waist, his head buried between her silky thighs, and desire slammed into him like a fist to his gut.

He released her and quickly stepped back. 'Our bargain is now satisfied,' he said, his voice rough with the want he was trying desperately to hide. 'And it's time for you to retire.'

There was no missing the disappointment that filled her gaze, but he refused to acknowledge it. 'Very well,' she murmured, 'but first I need to snuff the candles.'

He suspected that was merely a stalling tactic-no doubt there was a servant whose sole responsibility it was to snuff out candles-but he didn't argue. Instead he walked to the opposite side of the room and grabbed a long-handled engraved brass candle snuffer from a side table and helped the process along.

When they finished, he moved to the door and said, 'I'll escort you to your chamber. Make certain the room is secure.'

She looked up at him, lit now only by the back glow of the fire, and he felt himself drowning in her eyes. 'And then what?'

'And then I'll do my job.' He forced his gaze away and gave a soft whistle for Caesar, who'd been patiently standing guard in the corridor with his fur-draped cohort.

'Gideon, I-'

'Let's get you settled for the night,' he broke in, his voice coming out harsh. Based on the yearning so obvious in her eyes, she planned to say something he didn't want to hear. Something that would surely tempt his already shaky resolve. 'Now. Before your parents return home and find you haven't yet retired.'

He didn't wait for a reply, just began walking down the corridor. She caught up to him several seconds later.

'Gideon, I-'

'I meant to ask you something earlier,' he broke in again, this time in desperation. He couldn't risk her saying what he saw in her eyes. Couldn't let her voice the admiration and longing he saw there.

She hesitated then asked, 'What do you wish to know?'

'I'm curious about the book that was mentioned at tea. The Ghost of Devonshire Manor. The mere mention of it caused a very interesting reaction in you and your friends.'

'Interesting?'

'Yes. Lady Emily seemed quite devilish, and the rest of you blushed and were very eager to change the subject. Given my inquisitive nature, I can't help but wonder what it is about the book that would cause such a reaction.'

'I…I suppose we were merely surprised when Emily broached the subject. The book was the latest reading selection of our book club, and we normally don't discuss our choices outside our small circle.'

'And why is that?'

'Because they are not books that would necessarily be considered… classics. In the classic sense. Precisely.'

Understanding and interest dawned, and he nodded. 'I see. So they are scandalous.'

A scarlet flush washed over her cheeks. 'I suppose a certain type of person might think so.'

'And what type is that?'

'A person who can read.'

He couldn't help but chuckle. 'Well, well. Proper Lady Julianne reading improper books. It would seem the lioness has not only claws but teeth as well. Interesting.'

They entered the foyer where Winslow assured them all was well. After bidding the butler good night, Gideon and Julianne climbed the stairs. When they reached the top, she said, 'Since you are so curious, you may borrow the book, if you'd like.'

He knew he should refuse, but the thought of having, even temporarily, something that belonged to her, especially something that had brought such a becoming flush to her cheeks, was too irresistible to refuse. 'All right,' he agreed. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome. I'll get it for you now.' She stopped in front of her bedchamber door-the room where he would be staying tonight, in hopes of the intruder coming back so Gideon could capture the bastard.

'Wait,' he said softly. He entered the room ahead of her. A fire had been laid, bathing the room with a warm, golden glow. He made certain the windows were locked, noting as he made his way around the room that his portmanteau had been unpacked and his personal items were neatly lined up next to a washstand and pitcher filled with water.

He motioned for her to enter. She did so. Then, with her gaze steady on his, she slowly closed the door behind her.

He stilled at the quiet click, a soft sound that reverberated through his head with the finality of prison bars clanging shut. He stood rooted to the carpet, watching as she crossed the room then opened the wardrobe. She crouched down, arose, then walked toward the bed, carrying what appeared to be a wooden box.

'Is that where you keep all your scandalous books?' he asked, forcing a lightness into his voice he was far from feeling.

She shook her head. 'This is my Box of Wishes and Dreams. It's where I keep all my treasures and most prized possessions.'

His better judgment warned him to keep his distance, but his curiosity to see the contents of the box won out. He approached the bed and looked down.

'I discovered this box several years ago in a shop on Bond Street and instantly fell in love with it,' she said, tracing her fingers over the delicately painted design on the lid. It was of a woman, standing in profile, her arms outstretched. In the woman's one hand dangled her bonnet ribbons and in the other her shoes. Her long blond curls and pale blue gown billowed behind her in the unseen breeze as she ran, hatless and barefoot, through a field of colorful wildflowers. The woman's face was raised to capture the sun's golden glow, and a smile filled with pure joy curved her lips.

'She immediately captured my imagination with her carefree exuberance,' Julianne said quietly, brushing a single fingertip over the lid. 'I could almost hear her jubilant laughter. She was a brave and daring woman, one free of restrictions and rules, and I recognized her instantly.'

Gideon's brows rose. 'Recognized her?'

'Yes.' She looked up and met his gaze. 'She is the woman I've always longed to