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snap out a sharp retort, but then visibly swallowed it.
    Satisfaction warmed him.
Oh, yes, Hurst. I know exactly how to push you into doing something rash.
    Dervishton, looking uncertainly from one to the other, stepped forward. “I can see that you two have met before.”
    Caitlyn sniffed. “Lord MacLean’s brother is wed to my sister.”
    “What?” Dervishton frowned. “Ah yes. Didn’t I hear rumors that—” He sent a glance at Alexander beforehe smiled uncertainly at Caitlyn. “I’m—I’m sure that’s all in the past.”
    “More than you know,” she replied coolly, and placed her hand on Dervishton’s arm, smiling up at him in a way that made Alexander’s jaw tighten painfully. “Lord Dervishton, would you please escort me to where we’re to gather for dinner? I was to walk with Miss Ogilvie, but she ripped her lace on her heel and she had to return to her room. She asked me to let the duchess know she would be down as soon as she could.”
    “Poor Miss Ogilvie! We’ll let Georgiana know right away; I’m sure she will hold dinner.” Dervishton placed his hand over hers. “Allow me. The stairs are a bit steep.”
    Alexander regarded the wide, sweeping staircase with a raised brow. It was definitely grand, but had little in the way of steepness. “Miss Hurst, pray cling to Dervishton’s arm, for I know how unstable you get once you’ve had too many glasses of sherry.”
    Dervishton blinked. “Sherry? Miss Hurst, I didn’t realize you’d been—”
    “I haven’t.” Caitlyn snapped a glare at Alexander. “I haven’t had any sherry this evening
at all
.”
    Alexander drawled, “I recall an evening when you’d had far, far too much and you told me you’d always wanted to—”
    “Lord Dervishton, may we continue?” Caitlyn broke in hastily. “Miss Ogilvie is counting on me to deliver her message.”
    Dervishton looked disappointed to be cheated of Alexander’s story. “Of course.”
    Caitlyn sent Alexander a fulminating glare and swept past him, as regal as a queen.
    Alexander grinned. They’d been at the Lingefelts’ supper ball and it had been inordinately stifling and airless, and the lemonade—the only beverage available for the younger ladies—had run out. Thirsty from dancing, Caitlyn had sipped her way through several tiny glasses of sherry. Before the night was over, she’d stumbled at the top of the long flight of stairs that led from the ballroom to the dining room, and Alexander had caught her just in time to stop her fall.
    Holding her to him, her breasts pressed against his chest, he’d been inflamed with the desire to taste her. She’d been similarly affected, and in an unsteady voice she’d confided that she wanted nothing more than to be kissed—hard.
    Over the years, Alexander had been with many experienced courtesans who’d requested sexual favors, and he’d given them willingly. He’d also been with other women—most of them married—who’d wished to experience raw passion, and he’d obliged. But he’d never had a woman request something as simple as a kiss in such a husky, passionate voice, one that inflamed him as none of the other requests had.
    He’d immediately led her to an alcove hidden by long silk curtains, and he’d kissed her mercilessly. She had kissed him back with a fervor that had set his blood aflame. It was the first time he’d realized howhis friend Charles had succumbed to the winsome, coldhearted woman he’d wed. It had been madness of the worst kind—heated by passion, fed by excitement and blinding desire, and foolish because of the belief that it was controllable—no wonder Charles had succumbed.
    That kiss was the first of many risky encounters between Alexander and Caitlyn, each one taking them a bit farther down a path she’d planned with perfection. He hadn’t even realized he was being led until much, much later.
    Damn it, I knew better; I’m not a green youth just out on the town! But somehow she wormed her way