Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (230 page)

They turned swiftly and tightly, giving him a reason to bring her up close to him instead of holding her at arm's length. She gasped at the change in contact, then threw back her head and gave
an
honest laugh. 'You waltz scandalously, St Just. Is this how they do it in Vienna?'

'It's how

it.' He wondered how long he could

keep her like this. The sight of her smile was breathIn that moment, the smile was all for him. It was not her hostess smile, or her duchess smile, just
her
smile. smile he'd known for years. It was the smile she'd given him when they raced neck or nothing, the smile she'd given him when they'd danced at her

the smile she'd given him the

first time he'd kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, and she'd recognised him as a man of powerful urges.

He laughed back and whirled them about at a

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The Viscount Claims His Bride

faster pace, heedless of convention. The dancing halted promptly at midnight in order for the ballroom to cheer in the New Year. Both of them were laughing and breathless. Valerian had his arm about her waist, keeping her close at his side, enjoying her unhampered good humour.

All her masks were off and she was beside him once more. His masks were off too. He was simply a young man again, in the throes of a first and true love, untouched by the rougher edges of life.

giddy elation fired his

blood at the final stroke of midnight. As the raucous cheers went up, he recklessly pulled her to him and kissed her full on the mouth. Her arms wound around his neck and her head tipped back to take his kiss completely. There was an un-equalled sweetness in knowing she felt the fire, too, and had given herself over to it. In that moment Valerian swore a silent resolution to himself in the fashion of old English tradition. By this time next year, he would have her. He'd already lived too long without her.

The orchestra struck up a tune for another waltz before the guests headed in for the New Year's supper. Valerian swung her into the dance without asking. She protested with a laugh,

already

danced once tonight.'

'That was last year,' Valerian parried easily, his elation only partially dampened by the stare of an in-furiated Lucien Canton, who watched them from the sidelines, rage emanating from every pore of his impeccably groomed form.

Scott

Lucien viewed the pair waltzing with abandon and a disgusting amount of apparent ease in each other's arms. They were beautiful to watch as long as one wasn't also watching one's opportunity to marry one of them decreasing exponentially.

was most definitely an

unlooked-for complication in the progress of his plans. He had meant to propose to

in the

spring when he could do it in high style in London among the haut monde. Watching her with the newly returned viscount, Lucien knew without doubt he couldn't wait that long.

He had to strike
before
the iron was hot, as it were. Most people who knew him believed him to be a keen judge of human nature. Lucien knew his accuracy in guessing people's motivations and desires was partly his own intuition, but also partly because he spied on everyone in his milieu. The duchess was not exempt.

His spies indicated that the viscount was besotted with her, stealing away from the dinner table last night to steal

on the veranda. It was no balm

to Lucien7s concern that his spy also reported had slapped the bastard across the face. At the moment she might be conflicted over her response to the return of her curious friend, but hate ran a close parallel to love. From what Lucien had seen, if he waited until spring, the lovely and pivotal duchess would no longer be interested or available.

Without the Cambourne mines, his hopes to corner the tin market and establish
an
elite, profitable

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The Viscount Claims His Bride

tin cartel, with holdings in Britain and South America, would become an idle dream. And without access to the Cambourne finances, he'd be hard pressed to cover some of his investments. It didn't take any amount of genius to

that if St Just

claimed Philippa's affections, Lucien's own friendship with her would come to a quick end. St Just was not the type of man who'd allow his wife to keep a close male friend.