Once Upon a Wicked Night
“As he clasped her right hand with his left and settled his other hand around her waist, awareness spread under her clothing and below her skin, sensitizing it. The waltz was an intimate dance, and she’d never actually waltzed with a man before.
His hand was long-fingered, aristocratic, and warm, even through the layers of their gloves. He held her in a firm, confident grip that felt nothing like the way her sisters had held her when they’d waltzed. He was harder, taller, so much more… masculine....
The fingertips of her left hand pressed against his elegant black wool tailcoat just below his shoulder. His snow-white cravat was stiffly starched and tied with an expert hand, a heavy contrast to the deep black of his velvet collar. He was clean shaven, his olive-toned cheek smooth, and when she glanced down, she saw that his shoes were polished to an obsidian shine.
Swallowing hard, she looked into his face. He was gazing down at her, a smile tugging at the edges of his thin lips and his dark eyes sparkling like his shoes.MoreLess
His hand was long-fingered, aristocratic, and warm, even through the layers of their gloves. He held her in a firm, confident grip that felt nothing like the way her sisters had held her when they’d waltzed. He was harder, taller, so much more… masculine....
The fingertips of her left hand pressed against his elegant black wool tailcoat just below his shoulder. His snow-white cravat was stiffly starched and tied with an expert hand, a heavy contrast to the deep black of his velvet collar. He was clean shaven, his olive-toned cheek smooth, and when she glanced down, she saw that his shoes were polished to an obsidian shine.
Swallowing hard, she looked into his face. He was gazing down at her, a smile tugging at the edges of his thin lips and his dark eyes sparkling like his shoes.MoreLess
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