Sweet Revenge

your feet. Very mysterious and romantic.”
    She should have been amused, but she wasn’t. It was the way he looked at her, as though she could have all the secrets she wanted, but he would find them out, one by one. “Nothing romantic about jet lag. I’m often restless the first night after a long flight.”
    “From?”
    She studied him over the rim of her glass. “New York.”
    “How long will you be in London?”
    It was small talk, nothing more, nothing less. Adrianne wished she knew why it made her uneasy. “Another few days.”
    “Good. Then we can start out with a dance and work our way up to dinner.”
    When he took the glass out of her hand, she didn’t protest. She knew how to handle men. With a neutral smile she pushed her hair behind her back. “We can dance.”
    She allowed him to lead her through the fringes of the crowd in front of the orchestra. His hand surprised her. He looked to be a man who was well suited to formal dinner jackets and cummerbunds, yet the palm of his hand was hardwith a ridge of callus running under the fingers and along the tips.
    Workingman’s hands, an aristocratic face, and a suave manner. It added up to a dangerous combination. Adrianne forced herself not to stiffen when he drew her into his arms. Something hid clicked when their bodies brushed, something she didn’t want to feel or acknowledge. Sexuality was part of her image, but the image was only skin deep. No man had had her, and she had decided years before that no man would.
    She felt his hand firm at her back, felt the slope of muscle in his shoulder where she rested her palm. She had felt muscle before, and the hard line of a man, but she hadn’t been disturbed by it. Until now. The band was playing a low and intense tune. Despite the champagne, her mouth was dry. Because it was, she lifted her lace and kept her eyes on his.
    “Are you good friends with Lord and Lady Fume?”
    “Acquainted,” Philip told her. She had a unique scent. Something that brought pictures of dimly lit, hushed rooms redolent with incense and female secrets. “We were introduced through a mutual friend. Carlotta Bundy.”
    “Yes, Carlotta.” Adrianne matched her steps to his. He danced as he spoke, smoothly, without a ripple. Another time, another place, she would have enjoyed it. But like everything else about him, his way of moving made her uneasy. “I don’t believe I’ve seen her here tonight.”
    “No, she’s in the Caribbean, I think. On her newest honeymoon.” Testing only, he moved her an inch closer. She complied, but he didn’t miss the wariness in her eyes. “Are you free tomorrow?”
    “I make it a habit to be free.”
    “Have dinner with me.”
    “Why?”
    It wasn’t a coy question, but a direct one. He found himself drawing her closer this time for no reason other than to enjoy her scent. “Because I prefer having dinner with a beautiful woman, particularly one who takes lonely walks.”
    She felt his fingers tangle lightly with the tips of her hair. She could have ended that subtle flirtation with a look. But she let it pass. “Are you a romantic?” He had the face for it,she thought, poetic, lean, with eyes that could be quiet or intense.
    “Yes, I suppose I am. You?”
    “No. And I don’t have dinner with men I don’t know.”
    “Chamberlain, Philip Chamberlain. Shall I arrange for Helen to give us a more formal introduction?”
    The name meant something, stirred some memory that nagged, then slipped away. She decided to dig it out later, but for now it might be more interesting to play the game. The slow song blended into one with a quicker tempo. He ignored it and continued to move in the same slow rhythm. Why that should have made her pulse throb she didn’t know. Intrigued, she continued to sway with him.
    “What would she tell me about you?”
    “That I’m unmarried and discreet about my affairs, business and otherwise. That I travel extensively and have a mysterious past. That I live most of the year in London and have a country home in Oxfordshire. I like to gamble, and prefer winning to losing. That when I’m attracted to a woman, I like to let her know immediately.” He brought their joined hands to his lips, brushing her knuckles.
    It wasn’t easy to ignore the heat that raced up her arm. “Is that because you’re honest or in a hurry?”
    He smiled, and nearly coaxed her lips to curve in response. “I’d say that would depend on the woman.”
    It was a challenge. A