One Night of Scandal by Nicola Cornick Page B

thoughtfully and she felt a frisson of anticipation go through her. He leaned closer.
    ‘What would you say if instead of a compliment I issued a dare, Mrs Stratton?’ he said.
    Deborah’s eyes opened very wide. Her curiosity was caught. ‘A dare, my lord? Of what nature?’
    Lord Richard leaned closer still and beckoned her to draw near to him. After a second’s hesitation, Deb complied. Immediately she was distracted by an entirely new set of sensations. Richard’s lean cheek was close to hers and shecould smell his sandalwood cologne. Her gaze focused on his lips and she blinked and hastily cast her gaze down. She felt his breath stir a tendril of hair.
    ‘You told me earlier this afternoon that you did not believe I could seduce you,’ Lord Richard murmured, for her ears alone. ‘I dare you to let me try.’
    Deb almost snapped the stem of her wineglass between her fingers, so great was her shock. Images, heated and provocative, raced through her mind. She looked up at Richard, saw the dancing flame in his dark eyes, and looked away quickly.
    ‘No! I cannot accept that dare.’
    Lord Richard covered her hand with his again. ‘But you want to.’
    Deb felt her fingers tremble beneath his and his grip on her hand tightened in response. She felt part-appalled, part-exhilarated. What was the matter with her that she was even considering accepting such a scandalous wager? This man was a rake and so dangerous that she should not even be giving him the time of day. He was particularly perilous to her, for a part of her responded to him in a manner that could only be considered reckless. And whilst these thoughts chased across her mind, she saw him watching her face and reading her thoughts as clearly as though she had spoken them aloud.
    ‘No…’ She could hear the reluctance in her voice and so could he.
    ‘My dear Mrs Stratton, you are so close to capitulating…’
    A shiver ran along Deb’s skin, raising goose pimples. Richard was rubbing his fingers over her hand with gentle repetition, and this lightest of touches was enough to make her burn hot and cold at the same time.
    ‘Admit you are tempted…’

    ‘No, I am not,’ Deb said, firing up. ‘I am not in the least inclined to accept your suggestion.’
    Richard released her hand and sat back in his chair. ‘Well, you responded to that challenge, at any rate,’ he said wryly. ‘I must remember not to do that again, unless I wish to achieve the opposite reaction to the one I was wanting.’
    He drained his wineglass. ‘We should return to the ballroom, I believe. We are quite alone and no doubt the servants are waiting to clear the tables.’
    Deb looked around and realised to her shock that all the other guests had finished supper long ago. The conservatory was deserted and, with its coloured lanterns and pools of shadow, it suddenly seemed a vastly different and very private place. The splash of the water mingled with the faint strains of music from the ballroom, but it seemed to Deb as though the silence was alive and waiting. The summer moonlight poured through the glass roof and sprinkled the tiled floor with silver. Richard stood up and offered his arm to her and she put her hand gingerly on it, as though just the touch of him might be unsafe, enough to trigger an elemental reaction. His arm was warm and hard beneath her fingers and it seemed a very long way to the ballroom door…
    Her senses were concentrating so hard on Richard that she was not watching where she stepped. There was a patch of darkness between the pools of lantern light and she missed her step, catching her heel in the flounce of her gown. It was instinct on her part to hold more tightly to Richard’s arm to steady herself. And no doubt it was also instinct on his part to slide his other arm about her waist, drawing her hard and sure against him.
    She thought that he would kiss her, but instead he held her close, his mouth against her hair, the warmth of his hands a