His Wicked Embrace novel Chapter 29

The night of the ball, Zehra was wildly nervous. She had never attended such an event before, but she'd listened for hours at her mother's knee about what the experience was like. As she descended the stairs to meet Lawrence, his eyes widened and his lips parted. She smiled, yet felt strangely shy. Eva had helped her dress, and she'd felt more like a princess tonight than she ever had in Shiraz.

She wore a sapphire-blue evening gown in a simple but elegant style with thin gold netting over the bodice and part of the skirt. It was a style that reminded her very much of the gowns back home. Its low neckline offered a lovely view of her décolletage and the slope of her neck and shoulders. The bodice was embroidered with gold stars in the shape of constellations. The dressmaker, Madame Ella, had quite a skilled set of seamstresses who were creative in their designs, which Zehra liked immensely.

"My God, you're a vision," Lawrence said as he she reached him.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Heat flared between them, and for a moment Zehra forgot where she was. Lawrence had a way of kissing her that seemed to swallow time, trapping them in a cocoon of wondrous feelings where nothing else could exist. When their lips finally parted, she followed him a few inches as he retreated, and she had to stop herself.

"As much as I would love to take you upstairs and ravish you, I promised you a ball. Also, I mustn't disappoint the Duchess of Essex. She adores helping out, and I know she's planned this event with special care."

Zehra smiled. "She's quite wonderful. All of your friends are."

Lawrence chuckled. "Yes, the League and their wives are wonderful, but if you dare tell my brother I said that, I'll deny it to my last breath. Now, come along. Our coach awaits."

Zehra slipped her arm through his, and they left the house. By the time they reached Emily's home, her stomach was under siege by a fresh legion of butterflies. She touched her belly gingerly, and Lawrence noticed with a frown.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes. I am simply nervous."

His hazel eyes softened. "No need for that. You know everyone in attendance tonight. You are supposed to have fun. Do not worry about a thing. Promise me." He lifted her chin up as they reached the townhouse door.

"I promise."

"Good." He rapped the knocker against the door, and a footman allowed them inside. Golden light bathed the interior, and the sound of music already echoed through the hall. The footman led Zehra and Lawrence to a small ballroom, where a few of the couples were already engaged in dancing. Zehra saw Godric and Emily waltzing, and the pretty picture of them made Zehra feel envious. She wanted to dance with Lawrence like that. Feel him close and let the music pour into her heart and soul.

She placed her reticule on a chair by the wall. "Can we join in?"

"Absolutely." Lawrence held out his hands. "Do you know the waltz?"

She nodded and rushed into his arms. "My mother hired a tutor who taught me all the English dances, but he was a very old Englishman."

He pulled her against him and she blushed. "It's quite a different experience, waltzing with a lover," he said, low enough that only she could hear.

They began to dance. The private ball was everything she'd dreamed it would be-candlelight, music, her heart racing, her body humming with joy at the thrill of being alive in that moment. It was as though every bit of darkness in her heart had been banished. She lost track of the number of dances they had, but she danced every one with Lawrence, even when the other gentlemen jokingly begged Lawrence to share her. He refused them all. She danced a quadrille, a waltz, a minuet, and even a boulanger, which made her laugh as she danced in circles with the others.

And despite her best efforts, she fell in love with him more and more. She'd done the one thing she'd known would be dangerous to her heart: she'd fallen in love with a man she would never see again. Tears stung her eyes as the dance ended.

Lawrence brought her close to him. "Everything all right?" he asked, concern shadowing his handsome face.

She ducked her head. "Yes."

"I wanted this to be a special night, because..." His face was a ruddy red now.

"Yes?" Her heart began to pound, and she was too afraid he might help that foolish emotion called hope blossom inside her when she knew better than to believe he might-