When Alexander entered Melbury’s ballroom, he had known what to expect.
People stared at his face, shocked to find no visible sign of the monster hidden within. People whispered and tittered, inventing tales to account for his absence, more tales to account for his attendance. Some dared to approach, eager for the coveted place of being the first to hear his explanation. But one cold, hard stare sent them scurrying back to the hole they’d crawled out of. After an hour, they’d grown tired of watching him, some other on dit taking their fancy.
Although not everyone had lost interest in him.
He’d noticed the two gentlemen lingering in the alcove. They followed him around the room, hovering in any place that gave them an optimum view. He knew of them. Viscount Markham was the older of the two, perhaps thirty. The Marquess of Hartford, known simply as Devlin, was renowned for his skill with a sword. They met his gaze with an air of arrogance and Alexander’s palms itched at the thought of thrusting them both up against the door and wringing their necks.
Needing to find a distraction, he pushed away from the wall and exited through the double doors leading out onto the terrace. The cool night air felt fresh against his face, and he inhaled.
The sound of light footsteps padding across the floor behind him caused him to turn.
“Alexander,” Lady Montford breathed softly. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you. I thought you would never return. And then there was that dastardly story about your accident. I’ve spent two years mourning your handsome face.”
His gaze drifted up to the mass of copper curls, down the line of her elegant throat to the exposed curve of her bosom. It was a body he knew well, a body he’d taken many times before.
A body he had no desire to see again.
“How’s your husband?” he said not bothering to hide his contempt. The man spent more time with his horses than he did his wife. Not that she complained.
“Monty? Oh, always away, always busy. You know how it is.”
“And your lovers?”
“Satisfying,” she replied trailing her fingers along her collarbone.
“I know you wouldn’t accept anything less.”
She stepped closer, removed her glove and placed her palm on his chest. “I will happily push them all out of bed for you, Alexander. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten how good you feel.” Her gaze dropped to the fall of his breeches. “Although I’ve not forgotten how skillful you are.”
Alexander glanced down at her bare hand. He felt nothing. There was no urgency to claim, no desire to thrust home, no eagerness to give pleasure. His chest felt empty, his cock flaccid.
He stepped away, letting her hand fall. “I’m not the same man you remember.” Lady Montford would run for the hills if she knew what he was and it took all his effort not to frighten the conceited grin from her face.
“All the more reason to rekindle what we had. The first time with a new lover is always so exciting. But then we’ll have the added bonus of knowing how to please.?
??
Alexander sneered. “I’ve given up rutting every female I come across. There’s something rather tasteless about it.”
“Nonsense. Just hearing you say rutting has me all aroused. I think you’re deliberately teasing me.”
Before another word was uttered, Evelyn Bromwell strode out onto the terrace and came to an abrupt halt. Her smile faded as her cheeks flushed crimson and she averted her gaze.
“Forgive me. I … I did not mean to disturb you.”
She turned and marched back into the ballroom.
“Miss Bromwell, wait.”
Lady Montford caught his arm as he set off in pursuit. “Why didn’t you say you have a newfound penchant for virgins? I may have tried a different approach.”
“Nothing you could say or do would tempt me to accept.”
With no time to waste, he ignored the lady at his side and yanked his arm free. Amidst the crush, he managed to catch up with Miss Bromwell near the dance floor.
“Miss Bromwell.” When she failed to turn around, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his chest. “God damn, woman,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “Will you wait.”
Upon hearing his curse she swung around, and he released his grip. “It is rude to leave a lady alone on a terrace,” she sniped. “I suggest you go back and tend to her needs before someone else does. Besides, I was looking for Mr. Sutherby.”