Touch of a Lady Read Online Free Page A

was an aberration—a combination of worry over a swooning woman and the opportunity to caress a silky breast.
    Now, he touched only her fingertips, but it still felt as if he balanced the whole world in his hand.
    Tristan gave himself a mental kick in the arse. Only a love-sick pup mooned about for what he couldn’t have.
    He forced himself to look away from her as he stepped forward into the prescribed close position. The dance was designed to create a series of tableaus, beautiful stylized scenes of courtship, but none of it felt like mere display. Every bit of his being strained toward this girl about whom he knew next to nothing. There wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
    “Most couples kiss during this pose,” she whispered. Her breath feathered warmly over his cheek.
    “Most couples who do that are courting,” he said between clenched teeth. “We are merely dancing.”
    Delphinia stepped back and they circled each other before coming together into another romantic position, their arms entwined. She leaned into him.
    “Are you sure about that?”
    Her soft mouth was so close. She was right about the conventions of the dance. It would occasion no comment if he brushed her lips with his.
    Tristan swallowed hard. He wouldn’t be able to stop with a chaste kiss and he knew it. Even now, the music faded in his ears. The rest of the ballroom was a mere blur of color on the edges of his vision. Her sweet lilac fragrance filled his nostrils as her slender form filled his arms. She crowded out everything else.
    If he kissed her again, he’d devour her and everyone would know how she’d bewitched him.
    “I was wondering something, Tristan,” she said, her voice soft as a breath.
    “What puzzles you, Miss Preston?” he whispered back as he led her through an underarm turn. Perhaps keeping things formal would help him regain a sense of distance.
    “Delphinia,” she corrected. “And what I’m wondering about is the subject of love at first sight. Shakespeare believed it possible. What are your thoughts on the matter?”
    “Shakespeare was a sentimental hack,” Tristan said louder than he ought. They were supposed to be dancing, not making conversation. He lowered his voice. “Men may feel something at first sight, but I promise you, it is not love.”
    He certainly felt something right now. Being so near to her had him crowding his breeches something awful. Tristan had desired many women but the ache of longing had never been so nigh unbearable before.
    “I suppose you’re right,” she said.
    “I am?”
    “Yes.” When she smiled, her teeth were blindingly white. “I didn’t even like you at first sight.”
    Something inside him shriveled in disappointment.
    The minuet wound down like a music box losing steam and Delphinia made a final turn into his arms, leaning her head on his chest. The sweet lilac scent from her hair nearly made his eyes roll back in his head.
    “And…do you like me now?” he heard himself asking.
    “You’re tolerable, Tristan.” She dipped in a final curtsey and then skittered away.
    Tolerable! When she was all he could think of, she found him merely tolerable?
    But before he could follow her, the candles around the room were being snuffed out one by one. The master of the dance banged his baton on the floor and announced a game of Hide and Seek.
    “Lady Florence shall count to one hundred, and then beware,” the master said. “She shall find you out. Last person to be found shall be declared the winner.”
    The party scattered in a scuffle of good natured shoving and laughter. It was too dark for Tristan to see which way Delphinia went, but he climbed the stairs to the third storey, convinced this vixen would seek high ground. When he passed the lumber room where all the guests’ traveling trunks were stored, a faint whisper of lilac caught his nose.
    Tristan stepped into the room and immediately tripped over something left in the middle of the floor. He was quick enough