Page 98 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
She tilted her head slightly, considering him. “You are certain you wish to subject yourself to such a level of scrutiny?”
“I am already subjected to it,” he said. “This will not alter it significantly… and besides… we are masked.”
“That only means that it will alter how long they look, but they will look nonetheless.”
Maxwell allowed the faintest shift of amusement to touch his expression. “Then we shall give them reason to continue to do so.”
Arabella’s lips curved, though her gaze did not waver. “You are being bold.”
The music shifted then, the cadence of the room changing with it as couples began to move toward the floor.
Arabella glanced toward it, then back to him. Maxwell offered his hand, and she took it without hesitation.
The movement to the floor was unremarkable in itself, but the awareness of it settled differently. The room narrowed again, not with discomfort, but with focus. The rest of the room remained present, but not intrusive.
As they took their place, Maxwell became aware of the proximity, of the way her hand rested in his, of the steadiness of her posture as the music began.
“You are not nervous at all,” he observed.
“In the words of my husband, I have no reason to be,” she stated with a wide smile and bright eyes.
“I agree, Your Grace,” he said ruefully, and let a smile tug at his lips as well.
The dance began with a trill of the strings. The distance between them was dictated by the steps, but the awareness of one another remained constant, carried through each movement, each turn.
Arabella met his gaze more often than she avoided it, her expression composed but not distant, the earlier lightness replaced by something quieter, more deliberate.
“You are watching me,” she said softly.
“Why would I be looking at anything else?” Maxwell replied.
“Well, that is not conducive to proper dancing.”
“It has not yet caused difficulty, unless you wish to field a complaint.”
“Itmay, but no… I do not just now,” she said, letting him spin them around the dance floor in time with the other couples around them.
“If you are displeased, then I will adjust.”
Her lips curved slightly at that, though her gaze did not leave his. “You are quite audacious this evening.”
“I have a reason to be.”
“And what reason is that?”
Maxwell did not answer immediately, but instead led them through the turns of the melody until finally they settled again. “I blame the mask.”
Arabella held his gaze for a moment longer, as though weighing the meaning behind his words, but coming up with nothing. The silence piled on in the already small space between them, and Maxwell felt the temperature rise in her small frame. His mouth watered, and he watched as her eyes dipped to his lips as he wet them.
It was not lost on him the slight breath escape from her own lips as she let them part slightly.
The dance ended as all such dances did, with a measured final step and the soft retreat of music into polite applause. Maxwell released Arabella’s hand, though not immediately, the contact lingering just long enough to register before propriety required it to end. The space between them returned, but it did not feel the same as it had before.
A faint smile touched her lips, though it did not fully distract her from the awareness that still lingered between them. “Shall we consider the dance a success, then? Even if I was staring at you the entire time?”
Arabella’s laugh ignited the space around them, “Oh, yes, we shall.”
There was a brief pause, neither of them moving away at once, as though the moment had not yet concluded despite the musichaving done so. Maxwell was aware of the room again, of the attention that had settled and shifted throughout the dance, of the way it had not pressed as heavily as it once might have.
