Starry Knight by Nina Mason Page A

In the evenings, we might sit by the fire, read to each other—poetry perhaps or some of the classics—and sample the store of single-malts in my cellar. Or maybe do a bit of stargazing…or dancing.” He took another spoonful of soup. “I do so love to dance and miss it fiercely. In fact, I was hoping you might allow me to waltz you about the ballroom once or twice between the pudding and dessert.” Winking at her, he added, “Please tell me you know how to waltz.”
    “I was a debutante.” She mirrored his smile. “Need I say more?”
    The week he’d planned sounded romantic in a safe, quiet sort of way. Quiet wasn’t usually her style, but she was willing to give it a try. She couldn’t imagine growing bored with him in three or four days. Unlike the other men she’d dated, he was capable of intelligent conversation.
    “Can I ask you a personal question?”
    He’d been about to take a bite, but stopped. “What do you wish to know?”
    “Why did your second wife run away?”
    He put the spoon in his mouth, voided it of soup, and then set the utensil on the rim of the bowl with a clink . “If you must know, my appetites proved too much for her.”
    Vanessa dropped her spoon, which landed in her bowl with a clang, splashing soup onto the white tablecloth. Flustered by her clumsiness, she grabbed her napkin off her lap and dabbed at the stain. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz sometimes.”
    He picked up a bell and rang it three times. Seconds later, Hamish came in with the main course and another bottle of wine. After removing the bowls, the butler set the plates before them, uncorked the new bottle, refilled their glasses, and left the room.
    Callum cut a bite of perfectly cooked salmon with his fork and stuffed it in his mouth. After swallowing, he said, “The salmon’s delicious. You really ought to eat it before it gets cold.”
    She gave him a feeble smile before digging in. He was right. The fish was excellent. Tender, flaky, moist, and buttery with hints of lemon and herbs.
    They ate the rest of the meal in silence. After Hamish cleared the dishes away, Callum rose from the table and helped her out of her chair. He then took her hand and led her from the dining room down a long, narrow corridor lined with museum-worthy displays of portraits and weaponry.
    Wings of fear and excitement fluttered in her belly. “Where are you taking me?”
    “To the ballroom,” he said. “So we can dance.”
     
     

Chapter 6
     
    As a former debutante, Vanessa had glimpsed more than her share of ballrooms, but this one seemed more special somehow. It wasn’t the décor, though she found the cavernous space with its gleaming parquet floor, intricate plasterwork ceiling, and massive chandeliers in no way wanting. No, the wonder she felt sprang from something else. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.
    Was it because there was no one there to judge and condemn her? While she liked to pretend what other people thought of her didn’t matter, it did—or used to be before she stopped trying to win their approval. Shocking England’s upper crust with her wayward behavior was both easier and more entertaining.
    The clacking of her high heels echoed as he led her to the middle of the floor. He swept her into his arms, pulled her body against his, and captured her mouth. He tasted like salmon and wine, only even more scrumptious. As their tongues wrestled, a flame ignited at her core, making her feel like a forgotten candle finally remembered.
    She’d never felt the way he made her feel, which, though wonderful, also scared her. She wasn’t some starry-eyed romantic. Yes, she was impulsive, but not when it came to her heart.
    He cupped her bum and held her firmly against his thigh. She captured his tongue and sucked gently. The hand on her neck swept down her back and fisted the fabric of her dress. Shifting his weight, he pulled her against him, letting her feel his arousal. Moaning into his mouth, she