A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(68)

"And what is that?" she asked.

"There is a fascinating dance practiced among the Turks and Egyptians."

"Really?" Diana remarked, intrigued despite herself. "How is it different?"

DeVere gave her a wicked smile. "It is highly erotic in nature. But if the subject truly interests you, I would be delighted to find you some instruction in oriental dance."

"You are beyond the pale." Diana glared. DeVere laughed.

She was still trembling when the final notes sounded at the end of the dance, but now from a completely different cause. She could neither comprehend nor control the effect this man had over her. Her pulse raced; her breathing was short. She repeated her obeisance to partner and onlookers in a daze wrought of conflicting emotions. Suddenly feeling as if she was suffocating, Diana turned in a swish of silk skirts to flee the stifling ballroom.

***

"Just look at them, Hew," Vesta gushed as Diana and DeVere departed the dance floor. "Have you ever seen a more handsome couple? Who would ever have thought?"

"Couple? I see no couple," said Hew, remarking on Diana's flight. "She has left my brother standing there gaping. To all appearances, she could not leave him fast enough."

"She's in love with him, you know," Vesta declared.

Hew sputtered on his drink. "Diana and my brother? Impossible! I mean, there may have been something between them in the distant past, but anyone can see how much she despises him."

"Poor darling," she cooed, "you know so little of women. She only wants to despise him. That's quite another thing, you know."

"Oh, no! I have come to recognize that devious gleam, Vesta. Do not meddle with my brother and Diana. I assure you, Ludovic is not a man to be crossed, and there is already some history between them we know nothing about."

"But don't you see it's for their own good? They only need time alone together, Hew, and I am certain they will come to feel quite differently about each other." She beamed up at him. "Just as we did."

"Just because your scheming worked once does not mean I'll condone it again."

"But we don't actually have to do anything, Hew. That's beauty of it. All they need is the opportunity for nature to take its course. And I know just the thing."

Before Hew could even think to stop her, Vesta was already tripping across the ballroom toward the French doors.

***

Bursting onto the terrace, Diana gasped in a great breath, only to discover DeVere had trailed after her. Although she had given him no encouragement, she still wasn't surprised by his dogged pursuit. Once he set his sights on a goal, he was ruthless in obtaining it. He would wear her down until she had no strength left to resist him. She wished she had never recrossed his path.

"Why?" She spun on him. "Why do you continue to importune me when I have made my repugnance clear?"

"Why?" he shot back. "Because I always get what I want, and I find I still want you. Indeed, the unfulfilled craving is driving me half-mad."

"Only half-mad?" she jeered. "You are completely insane if you think to ever have me again. What passed between us was a monumental mistake and one I have no intention of repeating. Why can't you accept that and just let me be?"

"Why do you continue this game, Diana?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble against her hair. He was standing close enough to engulf her in his scent, a concoction of brandy, leather, horses, and male musk that made her senses reel. "Your own body belies you," he said. "The faintest touch has you trembling with want."

"Your conceit is unbearable. I'm shivering with cold, you insufferable boor!"

"The first statement is undoubtedly true." He chuckled. "But I have grave doubts about the second."

She felt his hard thighs against her backside and his hands on her waist, slowly ascending, the heat of his touch infusing her skin through the light silk of her gown. His thumbs brushed the outsides of her breasts, making her body rack with tiny but undeniable quivers of sensation. "It's not the cold, Diana." His hot breath fanned her nape. "And you know it."

It was past time to escape. Diana spun around only to hear a familiar, feminine voice declare from inside the ballroom, "So that's where the draft is coming from!" The terrace door clicked firmly shut, followed by the sound of the tumblers turning in the lock. Realizing she was now trapped with DeVere, Diana wanted to cry out in dismay. She turned her back to him in an effort to compose herself. She fixed her gaze out over the lawn, at the fountain in its midst shimmering under the light of myriad flambeaux. "Please," she said in an unsteady voice, "I can't bear it again. I truly don't want this."

Her heart galloped when he stroked the backs of his fingers down her arms and then over her breasts. Her treacherous body betrayed her once more, her nipples instantly tingling and hardening in response to him.

"But I think you do," he said.

"No! I don't! I am not the same woman I was four years ago. I'd had a horrible shock. Several, in fact, that made me much too vulnerable to you. My life was crumbling before my eyes, and you exploited that."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" he asked. "I did no such thing, Diana. You turned to me in your need. I did not coerce you."