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odd-looking
pair.   While the baroness was young and
strikingly beautiful, the baron was stoop-shouldered and wrinkled with a head
of thinning grey hair, and in fact appeared old enough to be his wife’s
grandfather.
    “Have you met Lady Tiffany Marlowe?” Alex asked, motioning
to Tiffany.
    “Yes, we met earlier,” Lucinda replied, glancing briefly at
Tiffany before turning her attention back to Alex.
    “Indeed,” Winston added.   “Lovely to see you again, my dear.”
    “It’s a pleasure to see you both again as well.   I hope you’re enjoying your evening.”   Though her tone was polite, inwardly she felt
a flash of irritation as she watched Lucinda Langdon’s admiring gaze linger
just a moment too long upon Alex’s handsome features.  
    “How could we not,” Lucinda responded with a broad smile,
“for the Leightons are such splendid hosts.”
    “The duchess always did know how to throw a party,” the
baron agreed.  
    “I believe you’re referring to the dowager, dear,” Lucinda
clarified.   “I’m quite certain that this
is the first event the current duchess has hosted.”
    “What?   Oh yes.   Quite right, quite right.”
    Thankfully at that moment the call for the final waltz of
the evening could clearly be heard through the open doors, saving Alex from
prolonging their conversation with the Langdons.   “Lady Tiffany, I believe that is our cue,” he
said, turning his head toward Tiffany.   “Baron, Baroness, will you excuse us please.   Lady Tiffany has granted me the favor of
partnering her in the next dance.”
    “Yes, yes.   Go on, go
on you two,” Winston said affably, waving his hand in the direction of the
ballroom.   “We’d join you, but for this
blasted leg of mine.”
    “Perhaps we should go back inside,” his wife suggested, “and
find you a comfortable chair, dear.”
    Nodding in agreement, Winston allowed his wife to lead him
back into the ballroom just a few steps behind Alex and Tiffany.
     

 
    Moments later, as Alex swept her onto the dance floor and
into the midst of the other dancers the Langdons were all but forgotten.   Gazing upon Alex’s handsome face, Tiffany
felt as if she were suddenly in a dream world, lost somewhere within the smoky
depths of his extraordinary eyes.   It was
finally here, the moment she had been waiting for all night, held within the
circle of his arms.   Good heavens, it was
even better than she’d imagined it would be.   They were so close that she could smell the tantalizing scent of his
cologne.   Unable to help herself, she
inhaled deeply, filling her senses with the spicy, masculine aroma.  
    Looking down upon Tiffany’s upturned face; Alex nearly
missed a step as her expressive blue eyes played havoc with his senses.   Damn, he’d seen that very same look too many
times before and knew exactly what it implied.   Desire.   Tiffany Marlowe was still just as attracted
to him as he was to her.   Try as he
might, there was simply no denying that the unmistakable spark that had leapt
between them in the past was still just as strong as it ever was, if not
stronger.   As his eyes dropped to her
full pink lips, he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to capture
their sweetness in a long, passionate-filled kiss.   It was sheer madness to even think such a
thing, but her exquisite loveliness and voluptuous young body seemed to drive
every pure thought directly from his head.   He knew that it would be an easy feat to seduce her, but once again he
reminded himself that she was off limits.   Even if he had no compunctions about seducing Ashleigh’s closest friend,
Tiffany’s youth and innocence were insurmountable barriers to a casual affair.   Although he had definitely earned his
reputation as a rogue, he had never dallied with virtuous, young debutantes and
he wasn’t about to start now.  
    However, reckless as it may be, he simply couldn’t resist
the urge to engage the lovely lady in a little