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her eyes. ‘I am after a late-night brandy.’ At least that was his original plan. He met her gaze, as silky as a lover’s caress.
    She let out a little sound that indicated she thought his answer complete rubbish. ‘You might have requested one from a passing footman in the ballroom.’
    He scoffed at her suggestion. If the servants proved as unreliable as earlier, he’d have been left unsatisfied once again. Clearly, the fates intended otherwise. ‘I meant to waltz with you this evening.’
    The lady pursed her lips as if she contemplated how to respond. Then vivid eyes matched his, twinkling with a touch of restrained amusement and viewing him as if he might be dimwitted.
    ‘Then you needed to write your name on a line.’ She raised her delicate wrist and the dance card stilled against her ivory skin.
    ‘I know.’ He grinned, acknowledging the foolishness of his response. Her inquisitive gaze met his and held. Then one narrow brow arched as if she awaited the rest of his explanation. ‘Things did not work out how I wanted them to.’
    Her lips dared a brief smile. ‘I take it you are accustomed to getting everything you want.’
    ‘Yes.’ He chuckled. Females usually vied for his attention and simpered in his company. The feisty verbal quips of the lovely stranger before him awakened an immediate temptation to discover more. ‘Would you have accepted had I asked?’
    ‘Absolutely not,’ she replied without hesitation.
    ‘Then I suppose there is no cause for me to request a servant reset the clock to midnight.’ He mused under his breath.
    He surmised she wished to soften her answer because she smiled slightly and made a quick rejoinder. ‘A charming idea, one that likely brings about your desired result, although
I
could not accept because we have not had a proper introduction.’
    Con needed no other invitation. Taking a long stride forward, he watched with chagrin as the lady took a quick step back. She appeared no debutante or young miss at her first come out, and her immediate retreat sparked his growing interest.
    ‘Come a little closer.’ He extended his hand towards her. ‘I do not bite.’ His voice dropped to a low tone as he continued. ‘At least not here in Lord Rochester’s study.’
    Her eyes flared and he held back a smile. She was lovely and intriguing.
Very intriguing.
Her chin notched higher and she boldly
did
step forward although her hands fluttered at her sides and belied her show of bravado.
    ‘I have not seen you at any assembly of the ton.’ Her eyes were grey, a beautiful shade, stormy and secretive, and right now reflecting hints of gold from the nearby candle flames.
    ‘We are newly arrived to the city, a few days past.’ Her answer, a throaty whisper, revealed she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to answer him at all.
    He captured one glossy curl between his thumb and forefinger and released it slowly, allowing the silky strands to slide across his fingertips. ‘Your hair is magnificent.’
    Her ivory skin warmed with a charming tinge of embarrassment and she looked very fetching in the throes of her unease. As ludicrous as it seemed, she appeared unaccustomed to compliments. Still, such a serene loveliness embodied her it was unlikely she did not draw great attention.
    ‘Perhaps we should share our dance right now?’ He voiced the words before he considered them.
    ‘Absolutely not.’
    As before, her succinct reply urged him to smile. ‘Do you always deal in absolutes?’ He watched her rosebud mouth open and close as if about to answer with the same retort and then realise the error of her ways. If an absolute existed, it was more so that this temptress was absolutely enchanting.
    ***
    Isabelle knew without a doubt she stood face to face with the legendary Lord Highborough, as no other man imaginable could carry himself with such smooth confidence and exacting control. And she had fallen under his spell as quickly as her breath caught when he entered the room