the Prince left off.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Unless you have decided that dancing with mere mortals has no appeal compared to the heady delights of having a blue-blooded partner?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said. ‘I’m quite happy to dance with you as long as you promise not to tread on my foot.’
His hands tightened around her waist. ‘And that’s your only stipulation, is it, Amber?’
Her eyes were fixed on the sprinkling of chest hair which was now exactly at eye level. ‘I could think of plenty more.’
‘Such as?’
‘I wonder why you want to dance with me when you seem to have been glaring at me all evening.’
‘Is that what I’ve been doing?’
‘You know you have. Is it...’ She hesitated. ‘Is it because the Prince guessed that I spoke Italian?’
He laughed. ‘He said you frowned when he used the word assassination. I guess most people would. And no, it’s not because of that.’
‘What, then?’
His hands tightened around her waist. ‘Maybe because I have conflicting feelings about you.’
She lifted her face up and met the hard gleam of his eyes. He had feelings for her? She could do absolutely nothing about the sudden race of her heart—only pray he couldn’t detect its erratic thumping. ‘What do you mean?’
Idly, he began to rub his thumb up and down over her ribcage. ‘Just that you arouse me. Deeply and constantly. And I can’t seem to get you out of my mind.’
If anyone else had come out and said that Amber would have been shocked or scared, but somehow when Conall said it she was neither. ‘And I’m supposed to be flattered by such a statement?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said simply. ‘My biggest concern is what I’m going to do about it.’
She could feel danger whispering in the air around them, but far more potent was the sense of excitement which made the danger easy to ignore. ‘And the options are?’
‘Don’t be disingenuous, Amber, because it doesn’t suit you.’ Almost experimentally, he rolled his thumb over one of her ribs, slowly rubbing along the chiffon-covered bone. ‘You know very well what the options are. I can take you upstairs so that we can finish off what we started earlier and maybe rid myself of this damned fever which has been raging in my blood since the moment I first saw you draped all over that white leather sofa.’
Somehow Amber stopped herself from reacting. Since then? ‘Or?’
‘Or I trawl this ballroom looking for someone who would make a more suitable bed partner on so many levels.’ His voice dipped to a deep caress so that it sounded like velvet brushing over gravel. ‘There’s a third choice, of course—but not nearly so inviting. Because I could always go and take a long, cold shower and steer clear of all the complications of sex.’
Amber said nothing. He’d made her sound as disposable as a paper handkerchief. As forgettable as last night’s tangled dreams. Yet he wasn’t lying to her, was he? He wasn’t dressing up his desire with fancy words and meaningless phrases—raising up her hopes before smashing them down again. He wasn’t promising her the stars, but his underlying message was that he would deliver on satisfaction. And didn’t she want that satisfaction for the first time in her life? Didn’t she want to sample what other women just took for granted?
She thought about what the Prince had said to her. That a sensible woman would exercise caution. She guessed he’d been warning her off Conall Devlin, for whatever reason. But she wasn’t known for being sensible, was she? She was known as a wild child—the party animal who was up for anything. And only she knew the truth—that all her wildness was nothing but a façade behind which she hid, a barrier which nobody had ever been able to break down.
But Conall Devlin had got closer than anyone else.
She closed her eyes as she felt his fingers pressing against her flesh and she was acutely conscious that they were inches away from her breast. Through the delicate fabric of her silk dress it felt as if he were touching her bare skin and she felt a shiver rippling down her spine. How did he do that? What power did he have which made her respond to him like this and make her so achingly aware of her own body? The hard jut of his hips and the potent cradle of his masculinity as he pressed himself closer should have intimidated a woman of her laughable experience, but it didn’t. It just made her want more. Much more. Was she really prepared to turn her back on this opportunity to become a real woman at last?
Instinct made her lips part as she looked into his eyes and saw the sudden gleam of intensity in his darkened gaze.
‘And don’t I get a say in what happens?’ she questioned, as lightly as if she had this kind of conversation every day of the week.
‘Of course. You get to choose—because that is a woman’s prerogative. Tell me what you want, Amber.’
The mood of the conversation had switched and beneath the teasing banter of his tone she could sense his sudden urgency. But still Amber held back, telling herself to confront the reality of what was happening here. For him this was just a liaison no different from countless others—apart from her name and her hair colour, she was probably as interchangeable as the last woman who had shared his bed.
And for her?
It was going to be no good if she started weakening. If she made the mistake of falling for him. She could only go ahead if she accepted it for what it was. Not stardust and roses, but a powerful sexual hunger. A physical awakening which was long overdue.
Rising up on tiptoe, she put her lips to his ear and only just refrained from sliding her tongue across the lobe.
‘I want to have sex with you,’ she whispered.
Conall stiffened, thinking he had misheard her. He must have done. She had been feisty and defiant every step of the way—surely she wasn’t rolling over and capitulating that easily. And didn’t he want her to go on resisting him for a little while longer, because it was so deliciously rare and because the conquest was never quite as good as the chase...
‘You mean that?’ he questioned softly, his fingertips continuing to slide over her silk-covered torso.
She nodded, her words uncharacteristically brief. ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
A smile curved the edges of his lips as he felt the heat begin to rise within him. ‘Very well. This is what I want you to do. You will go upstairs to your room and wait for me while I say goodbye to my guests. But you will not undress before I arrive.’ He paused. ‘Because undressing a woman is one of the greatest pleasures known to man. Is that clear?’
She nodded—more obedient than he had ever seen her. ‘Very clear.’
‘I shall come to you before midnight.’ He tilted her chin with his thumb and stared straight into her emerald eyes. ‘But if before that you decide—for whatever reason—that you’ve changed your mind, then you must tell me and we will consider this conversation never to have happened. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Conall.’
He put his lips very close to her ear. ‘I’m not quite sure how to cope with this unusually docile Amber.’
She turned her head to meet his gaze. ‘Would you prefer defiance, then?’
‘I’ll let you know in graphic detail exactly what I’d prefer but I think it had better wait until we are alone. Because my words are having an unfortunate but predictable effect on my body, and having you this close to me is making me want to tear that dress off you and see the flesh beneath, and I don’t think that would go down very well with my guests, do you?’
She shook her head but, to his surprise, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink and he felt a doubling of his desire for her. ‘Go upstairs and wait for me,’ he said roughly.