The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(30)

Twice she had attempted to dance with this man, and both times she had felt ready to faint from the emotional turmoil of it all. Earlier in the evening Sebastian had asked if she was prepared to dance in front of the ton. Saying it would be absolutely necessary for them to dance together in order to push the gossip along. Arguing seemed awkward, considering she hadn’t wanted to explain her aversion to any sort of dancing. It would do neither of them any favors for her to discuss her blatant fear and anger associated with the activity. So she braced herself for what needed to be done and tried to be herself as he led her onto the floor.

Sebastian smiled down at her and winked.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

Her breath quickened as he pulled her closer. Had they danced a waltz before? In answer, his hand moved dangerously close to her bottom. No, she would have remembered that hand. That hand…his touch.

The music hadn’t yet started. She still had time to move away. Chest constricting, she began to panic. Dancing brought the memories back, the pain.

“Remember to stay close. We are, after all, in love.” His eyes held wicked intent.

Oh, the things his grandmother would assume about her tonight. It would be amusing if not so terribly heart wrenching. The duchess would more than likely hunt her down with a fire poker after they renounce the engagement.

“Emma.”

“Hmm?” Panicked, she began looking for both the duchess and all sharp objects, just in case word got out tonight that they were pulling the wool over the entirety of the ton.

Sebastian brought his hand up to her jaw and traced it. “Nobody’s going to believe you if you don’t relax.”

Right, relax, when sin incarnate is touching my face.

“That’s it,” Sebastian soothed, his breath tangling with hers. His gaze locked on her lips.

Oh, no.

“You’re beautiful.” The strain of his voice was apparent.

Emma sucked in her breath as Sebastian pulled her even closer. The room faded away. It was just them. She couldn’t look away if she tried. His smile held no smugness, no self-satisfied grin. No, he was pleased. Enjoying himself, enjoying the moment. His dimples lit up his already handsome face.

In a moment of sheer bravery and some might say idiocy, Emma lifted her hand to cup his smooth jaw. He shuddered under her touch.

And then bent his head and brushed the lightest of kisses across her lips.

It was a reverent kiss. One Emma would have liked to repeat.

If the music hadn’t stopped.

She felt herself flush.

Sebastian, bless him, didn’t even seem to notice. She gulped, suddenly nervous about all the attention. The ramifications of what they were doing came back full force, nearly sending her into a frenzied panic.

“Sebastian…” she whispered. He hadn’t let her go, his gaze was immobile.

“Hmm?” he said.

“Everyone’s watching.”

“Of course they are.” He continued to dance as if the music hadn’t stopped.

“Sebastian,” Emma said, this time a little louder.

He shook his head as if trying to wake up from a trance and looked around the room. His throat cleared as he blushed nervously, grasped at her hand, and led her to the grand staircase.

The room was as silent as death.

Emma figured that even if the room were set on fire, the entirety of the ton would wait for whatever announcement the duke had to make.

Each step her dainty toes took across the shiny marble staircase resounded like another nail in her coffin, thanks to the vivid picture she had of the duchess crying like a wild woman and chasing her through the streets of London. This wasn’t entirely fair, considering she was such a nice lady, albeit a tad extreme in her methods.

Emma was sweating by the time a footman handed her a glass of champagne. Her hands shook as she brought the cool bubbly liquid up to her lips. Crowds began gathering at the foot of the stairs, all watching in anticipation for the impending announcement. Did that kiss count as a girl being ruined? Because, although it had been short and sweet, it had nearly brought her to her knees. Kisses like that got girls into compromising situations, and kisses like that made girls forget everything they’d learned in church. Shuddering, she tried to cross her arms with the champagne still in her hands.

Sebastian lifted his glass. The room was already silent; there wasn’t any need for him to draw more attention. In that moment, he looked every bit the aristocrat he was, and Emma chastised herself again for daydreaming about the man. He was not for her. And she had the unfortunate task of picking out the perfect woman for him.

“I would like to announce…” Sebastian’s commanding voice took captive the entire room. Even Emma felt faint with anticipation, and she already knew what he was going to say. “…my engagement to Miss Emma Gates!” Glass still raised, he turned and kissed her full on the mouth before she had time to protest.

The room erupted with shouts of praise, shock, and applause. Emma had no choice but to act pleased with the kiss. It was a warm, inviting, and haunting kiss, which she had no right to enjoy, considering she was not his true fiancée.

When Sebastian pulled away and winked, Emma took the chance to throw back the entire contents of her flute. Guilt pervaded her when she saw Nicholas frown, so she grabbed for another glass. The nerve of the man! What was his goal, to ruin her for any other man? Even husbands and wives did not engage in such physical affection. Well, most husbands and wives, excluding Nicholas and Sara of course.