Chapter 62

Standing alone with a flute of champagne, the Earl of Blackthorne inspected the large ballroom with his observant eyes. Ever since he stepped into the room, women competed for his attention. Some blinked slowly at him in subtle invitation, some flirted boldly with him, but he declined them all. At this moment, he wasn't interested to quench the burning needs with the ordinary and the mundane.

Perusing the sea of faces, he found what he searched. The ballroom was full of lovely women, but he didn't need a magic mirror to tell who was the fairest of them all. Riveting his gaze on her, Blackthorne curled his fingers into fist in aching need.

He was not accustomed to not getting what he wanted when women were concerned. Women of all ages and class hurled theirselves at him all the time. Whenever he needed one, women were always available, in a colossal amount that could surpass the king's harem, until he finally got jaded, and only a few women could whet his appetite. The dark-haired beauty intrigued him. She possessed such sensual innocence that made him burn with desire. At first, she gave an impression of purity. When she refused his advances, it was as though the reason was morality. Even now when he knew the truth that she wasn't untouched, the sight of her still boiled his blood in unspent passion. She looked so young and innocent, almost naive. How could she ever deceive him? He always knew whether a woman was chaste or debauched in the first place.

He remembered the taste of her, the resistance she offered when he kissed her, before she melted helplessly in his arms. He imagined how she responded to a more intimate touch. He was just about to savor her sweet surrender when their moment was suddenly interrupted by an unwanted intruder. The vain duke. He recalled their recent encounter in the afternoon. From the way the duke ordered him about with immeasurable arrogance, he had no doubt the man considered himself king. That arrogant prick behaved in an unreasonable confidence as though he owned the world and everything in it.

Something~ or somebody drew attention to the doorway and he glanced in the direction. The duke was entering the room, and Blackthorne watched in irritation as the ladies in the ballroom granted him with admiring glance while the gentlemen gave him a courtly welcome.

The Duke of Vermont was a cocky bastard, yet the entire ton seemed to justify his cockiness. They placed him on a pedestal as a role model. A man with grand principles and incredible moral standards. The gentlemen spoke highly of him. The older ladies offered their daughters to him any chance they had while they dragged their girls away the second a rakehell like himself came into sight. Those poor ladies never knew that their paragon of virtue was no better than him, Lothario of London. The utmost difference was; he just didn't care to preserve his propriety in public like some hypocrites.

Tracking the other man's gaze, Blackthorne knew where it anchored. The elfin beauty darted around people and headed toward the doorway. The duke moved in the same direction. He noticed instantly that the duke was following the girl at a discreet pace. Occasionally that bloody bastard stopped and talked to some of his peers but he kept an eye on her all the time. She went out of the ballroom and soon he could no longer see her. A moment later, the duke followed her path and disappeared beyond the doorway as well. Stealing some time for a passionate interlude, very likely. There were only so many vacant rooms in the secluded corridor.

His eyes wandered across the room in search of another person, the poor fiancée the duke had just left, alone and abandoned. Venus of Wales, they called her. With her moonbeam-colored hair and her tall, slender figure, it didn't took long to find her in the crowd. With her unusual height, she dwarfed all the women around her, as much as she did with her exceptional beauty. Always dressed in subtle, understated style, evidently she didn't need more display to enhance her loveliness. The pearls around her long, swanlike-curve neck glowing softly under the muted light of the chandeliers. The champagne colored gown looked perfect on her flawless skin. Her skirt swirled slowly when she took a few steps and he could see that beneath the silk were a pair of long, long legs. She was a true gem, but for him, her physical riches was not her most impressive feature. Beyond that, she possessed a natural, effortless grace he had never seen in any other woman.

Damn lucky bastard.

He had a goddess and a temptress at the same time. Life had favored him in too many ways nevertheless he was positively undeserving of all those advantages. He studied the lady with piercing scrutiny. With her slim, willowy figure, she looked dainty and delicate. Even so, he knew by instinct, she was anything but vulnerable. Even if she were just an ordinary woman, still she wasn't a woman to trifle with.

He finished his champagne in one long swallow. Without tearing his gaze from her, he set the flute on a tray carried by a passing footman, then took a few determined steps toward her.

"Lady Selene Wyndham,"

He put on his most charming smile.

"Will you do me the honor of allowing me to dance with you?"

Glancing at the man came over her, Selene raised a brow in surprise. Had this rogue not known that Lady Selene Wyndham didn't dance with scandalizers?

"I'm afraid I have quite enough of dance tonight."

"Of course, but I believe you would be kind enough to spare me the last dance."

The lady strayed her gaze across the room, as though just looking at him was beneath her dignity.

"I'm saving the last dance for my fiancé."

It wasn't the first time a woman declined his advances, but it was possibly the first time a woman truly declined him, not for the purpose of playing hard to get. Well, the second time probably, although he suspected the other woman's rejection was tentative.

"He is such a lucky man, but I'm not sure he will appreciate it."

"Pardon?"

The lady's gaze returned to him, he smiled inwardly for now he got her undivided attention.

"Because I know it very well, my lady."

He made a deliberate pause to emphasize the effect of his statement.

"This precise moment, your fiancé is busy entertaining himself in the arms of another woman."

"I suppose you know better than to play your tricks on me, My Lord."

It was such a terrific day. Never in his life he had difficulties in handling women, but today he was rejected by a woman, and intimidated by another.

"I dare not. I'm offering you an important, factual information that I believe would be of value."

The lady only cast an assessing glance at him for a long while. He grew restless in anticipation. There was a chance she would just turn away and leave him without a second thought.

"But of course you don't need to know it from me. Sooner or later, you will find out by yourself. You'll need a long time, I suppose. Your soon-to-be husband has exceptional ability in hiding secrets."

He spun on his heel and walked away.

"I guess such a valuable information comes with a price."

She finally said.

His lips curved a triumphant smile and he turned toward her.

"I think I can get you a good price on that."

Across the room, the orchestra started to play the music for the upcoming dance. He made an elegant bow and offered his hand.

"Now, may I have this dance?"