have in everything else.”
“Why, Miss Martin,” he drawled. “I do believe that was a threat.”
Her gaze dropped to where her fingers lay against white linen. “Only if you stray.”
He laughed. Picking her up, he spun her around.
“Jasper!” Wide-eyed, she looked into his face. Something in his expression flushed her skin.
“You delight me.” His voice was slightly husky.
“You confound me. And charm me.”
“And arouse you.”
“Too easily.” She ran her hands through his hair, unable to resist its thick silky texture.
“I want you even when we’re not together. Can you say the same?”
“Yes, in the moments when I’m not questioning myself for jumping into a situation with my eyes closed.”
Jasper set her down and touched her falling hair with reverent fingers. “Your mind wants to make sense of what you feel. I’ve forsaken any effort to understand it, but you will not. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. Just promise me that when you have doubts or concerns, you’ll come to me as you did today. Tell me what you need, and I will find a way to give it to you.”
Eliza believed him. He made her feel as if she was important to him. Necessary. She’d never been necessary to anyone before. It was a novel feeling, one she was still attempting to assimilate.
“What I need,” she began, catching his hand in hers and setting her left hand on his shoulder, “is for you to learn how to waltz. I want to dance with you.”
He positioned his hand at her waist. “From the very first, you listed dancing as a requirement in your suitors.”
“I’ll enjoy dancing with you best of all.” Eliza smiled. “You have that air of danger about you, and a very seductive way of moving. The inherent sensuality of the waltz was made for a man such as you.”
His smile made her pulse race. “I want to commission a new gown for you to wear during our first public waltz. Will you wear it?”
Pleased by the thought of a gift, she nodded. It had been a long time since someone who cared for her bought her a present. Melville rarely knew what day of the week it was; special occasions were beyond him.
“I cannot wait,” he purred, his spine straightening beautifully. “Teach me quickly.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Her tone changed, became more clipped and direct. “There are nine positions in the German waltz. However, we must start with a rule: this precise distance between us should always be maintained.”
“You’re too far away,” he complained, shooting a pointed glance down at the floor between them.
“Stuff. The waltz is the only dance in which pairs are set apart from the assemblage and focused on each other. There is no way to be more intimate.”
“Without a bed.”
Eliza bit back an indulgent smile. Certainly she shouldn’t encourage his roguish tendencies, but she adored them. He was unlike any man she knew-wicked in all the best ways.
“Pay attention,” she said sternly. “Your feet should be turned outward when stepping”-she demonstrated-“and the lift of your leg should be pronounced.”
Although he continued to make provocative statements, Eliza remained focused. She walked him carefully through the steps. At first, he seemed almost afraid to move. When she pointed it out, he groused, “Damned if I’ll trample you.”
But he soon learned to appreciate her responsiveness. He became more confident and sure-footed. The steps became more natural, his arm movements accomplished with more flourish. She praised him when his form was perfect, and teased him when it wasn’t.
As time passed and they continued their exertions, his scent of spice and bergamot filled the air between them. The advance and retreat of the steps became foreplay to her. The twisting movements limbered her, while the too-brief moments of proximity began to titillate her senses. His powerful shoulder flexed beneath her hand, reminding her of how delicious he was when naked and passionate and aroused. Her breathing quickened.
Jasper watched her with an enigmatic smile. “I like this.”
“The dance?”
“The way you follow my lead. The feel of your body moving in just the way I want, with only the slightest urging.”
“You like being in control.”
Jasper paused mid cross step. Their faces were turned toward one another, their lips only inches apart. “And you like me in control.”
“Perhaps”-she lowered her gaze to his lips-“being out of control is my aim.”
His hand tightened on her waist. “Are you propositioning me, Miss Martin?”
“What would you do if I did?”
“Anything you want.”
He sidestepped, so that their bodies were aligned. Face-to-face. Jasper was such a large, strong man. She felt so delicate when she was with him, yet never overpowered.
“You know what I want,” she whispered, blushing.
“A kiss?” He gently pulled another pin from her hair. “An embrace?”
“More.”
“How much more?”
She bit her lower lip.
Jasper caught her chin. “Shyness has no place between us.”
“I don’t want to be…overbold.”
“Sweetheart.” His tone was soft and warm. “Can you still be unaware of how I relish your esteem and desire? Haven’t I told you how deeply they please me and how much satisfaction I derive from them?”
“As if I’m the only woman to admire you,” Eliza said wryly.
“You’re the only woman whose admiration has value to me.”
“Why? There’s nothing special about me. Whatever pleasing traits I possess are better represented in other females.”
“Not in the combination with which you are blessed.” His hand drifted from her jawline and closed around her breast. He studied her reaction as his thumb circled a highly sensitive nipple. “I love that you are beautiful and clever and carry a constant desire for me. You could not be more perfect.”
Her body responded instantly to his expert touch-her nipples tightened into aching points and the flesh between her legs throbbed with need.
“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, anchoring her with a hand at her hip. With two fingers, he rolled and tugged the erect point of her breast, the pressure too light to offer any relief.
She felt pliable and wanton. Intoxicated. They’d been alone for an hour, only inches apart; his body had been in motion the entire time. Watching him move was a seduction in and of itself. She couldn’t keep herself from wanting him. Her infatuation was far too great to be moderated.
“I want you naked,” she breathed.
A soft rumbling came from his chest, sounding suspiciously like a purr. “Why?”
Her hands moved of their own volition, catching the lapels of his coat. “Take this off.”
His wicked smile made her toes curl. He shrugged out of the expensive garment and let it fall to the floor. “Better?”
“Not nearly.” She caressed his arms through his shirtsleeves. Looking behind him at the mirror on the opposite wall, she drank in the view of his buttocks and thighs. The sight, smell, and feel of him were all aphrodisiacs to her.
He glanced over his shoulder. “You surprise me in all the best ways. Should I hang a mirror above our bed?”
“Jasper…” A shiver of mortified delight moved through her. “I would never be able to look.”
“I think you won’t be able to look away. Shall we prove it?”
Eliza stilled. “Here?”
“Would Melville disturb us?”
