Charmed and Dangerous Read Free Page B

taller than most of the others in the room. But otherwise he was quite different from the young man she had known. His figure had filled out—shoulders broadening, chest deepening, arms and legs more heavily muscled. And he moved with an assurance and grace that he had not begun to possess ten years ago. Each move he made seemed slow and deliberate. He drew the eye, Laura thought, seeing people turn and look after him as he passed. He made you wonder, in this city full of Europe’s aristocracy, whether he was some great magnate, or even royalty.
    â€œThere’s Gavin,” said the general’s wife quite unnecessarily.
    Catherine sounded nervous, Laura thought. And perhaps she was just slightly nervous as well. Gavin Graham had no control over her, she reminded herself. No one even expected her to succeed in interesting him. Three days with the Pryors had made that obvious. Catherine had somehow moderated the general’s disappointment in his supposed lure, but his hopes had clearly been dashed upon her arrival. The expression on his face when they met had declared the case hopeless. Perhaps, and perhaps not, Laura thought. She prided herself on performing what she promised.
    â€œVery nice,” said one of the Frenchwomen behind her. “What a leg he has.”
    â€œUmm,” agreed her friend. “And what else, I wonder?”
    Their laughter chimed out as General Pryor introduced his wife to Gavin Graham. “And you know Miss Devane, of course,” he added.
    â€œOf course,” murmured Gavin.
    Mocking, thought Laura; he had decided to be supercilious and mocking, and he did it very well. She had a moment’s flash of uneasiness, then pushed it aside.
    â€œWhat do you think of Vienna, Miss Devane?” he asked.
    â€œIt seems a pleasant city. And the work going on here is very interesting.”
    â€œWork?”
    â€œOf the congress.”
    Gavin cast a lazy glance around the ballroom, taking in the chattering groups, the faces flushed from too much champagne. “Do you think anyone is working?”
    The general cleared his throat. Gavin’s hooded gaze came to rest on him as if he were some sort of odd carnival exhibit.
    â€œSplendid music,” stated Pryor. “One thing you can say for Vienna—good music.”
    Gavin continued to gaze at him just too long. Or just long enough, Laura thought. It depended on your point of view. Then he said, “Would you care to dance, Miss Devane?”
    It was a waltz. Laura knew this because she had read about the new dance, which was not yet accepted in England. She had heard the steps described, and the scandalous proximity of the partners deplored. She could see that he expected the invitation to unsettle and embarrass her—and to be refused. He would have to do better than this, she thought. “Thank you,” she answered, wondering whether she would be able to mimic what she had read without stepping on his highly polished shoes.
    â€œLaura,” protested the general’s wife, who obviously did not approve of the waltz.
    â€œGood thought,” put in the general. With a gesture, he urged them toward the couples dancing at the other end of the room.
    â€œMatthew!” said his wife.
    Gavin offered his arm. Laura took it, her head held high.
    Laura was surprised at what a pleasure it was to walk with him. Despite his greater height, their strides matched somehow. They seemed to fall into a similar rhythm automatically. It made her feel graceful and powerful and ready for anything. She blinked. Her imagination was running away with her. It had been too long since she’d been out in a crowd, she thought.
    At the edge of the circle of dancers, Gavin turned to her, encircling her waist with one arm and taking her right hand in a firm grip. It was very different from a country dance or quadrille, Laura thought. His coat lapel was inches from her face, and warmth was spreading through her