Part 3 (1/2)

”Walter!” Arabella gasped and would have darted behind the column once more if Georgiana hadn't reached out and caught her sleeve.

”No, Arabella! It's him, the handsomest man in all England! And he's coming this way!”

The handsomest man in all*Oh, for pity's sakes. At that precise moment there was a distinctly feminine squeal nearby, followed by a shrill of giggles.

Arabella locked her chin and deliberately looked the other way. Whoever he was, she was in no hurry to see him. It appeared as if every female around her was suddenly all a-twitter, their hearts all a-dither, but she was not a jiggle-brained idiot, to fawn over a mere man.

Georgiana poked her. ”Arabella, look, he's with the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Carrington. She's giving him her hand to kiss.”

”Georgiana, I'm in no need of a blow-by-blow account. If I wanted to look at him, I would.”

”Oh, but he's quite splendid. I've never seen him so close before.”

”Georgiana, really!” If she sounded cross, she couldn't help it. ”I didn't think you were the sort to be taken in by such a man. No doubt he's the world's worst rogue.”

Georgiana didn't argue. Instead she said in a strange voice, ”Arabella, he's coming this way.” She gasped. ”I do believe*yes*yes! He's coming toward you.”

Arabella pointedly turned her back. Just what she needed. Another vulture.

”Perhaps you're mistaken,” she stated calmly. ”Perhaps he's coming toward you.”

There was no answer. Instead there was only silence, a silence that dragged on and on.

Arabella tapped her foot. ”Where the devil is he now?”

Still no reply. An odd, heated feeling caught her in its midst. She could almost feel the hairs on the back of her neck sizzle in awareness.

”Georgiana?”

She turned impatiently*and it wasn't Georgiana she beheld, but the spotless knot of an intricately tied cravat. Her gaze strayed up - and up! - taking in a square masculine jaw, a long elegant nose and male lips that might have been sculpted by the hands of a master, all the way to clear, crystalline eyes the color of emeralds, set beneath a slash of dark, slanted brows.

And then the unthinkable happened. She, who usually managed a retort for everything, swallowed what she'd been about to say - and very nearly her tongue.

It was him.

Justin Sterling.

The Farthingale house was only a few blocks away from St. James's Street. After their arrival, Justin and Gideon stood on the fringes of the ballroom.

”Quite the crush, isn't it?” Beside him, Gideon raised his quizzing gla.s.s. ”Lady Farthingale will be crowing tomorrow. I heard she invited half the city.”

”And it appears few of them declined.” Many of the guests stood elbow-to-elbow, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Hundreds of jewels glittered and winked in the candlelight. With a single, practiced stroke of the eye, Justin's gaze encompa.s.sed the room full of partygoers, the sea of s.h.i.+mmering ball gowns and elegant coiffures*until at last it settled across the room.

”I see you've found her.”

Justin responded with a lift of his brow. ”I daresay you were right. She's impossible to overlook.”

”Yes, she is that, isn't she? And I see she's garnered her usual audience.” Gideon snared two gla.s.ses of champagne from a white-gloved servant, handing one to him. ”Silly young pups! Fools, all,” intoned Gideon, ”that they fancy themselves in love.”

Love. For the swell of a heartbeat, an odd emotion churned in Justin's gut. It wasn't that he was incapable of that tender emotion. But he knew no woman could ever love him.

”So what was it if not love that sent you sniffing about the lady's skirts?” he inquired.

Gideon's half-smile left him in no doubt.

Justin's regard returned to the woman across the room. He'd noticed her right off, and it wasn't just the brightness of her hair that set her apart from every woman here tonight. Gideon was right, he surprised himself by admitting. The Unattainable was exceptionally tall for a woman, yet she didn't s.h.i.+rk from it or try to hide it. A twinge of reluctant admiration cut through him. She carried herself like one who was proud of it - and G.o.d knew, she carried it well.

She was gowned in ice-blue satin, a shade that should have clashed hideously with her hair, yet didn't. The empire waist fell in soft, delicate folds to the toes of her slippers. It made no secret of the fact that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were delectably full and high on her chest. G.o.d knew he was a man who was an ardent admirer of bountiful, curvaceous b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her shoulders were slim but broad for a woman, which somehow made the column of her neck, long and slender, appear all the more feminine, particularly when she tilted her head as she did just now. A froth of curls spilled over her shoulder, onto the generous expanse of her bosom.

Desire stirred, a dark stab in his middle. Her legs would be fas.h.i.+oned like the rest of her, he decided, long and slim and lithe, strong enough to wrap around his hips as he drove inside her. Granted, it was just as he'd told Gideon. He wasn't partial to redheads. And he'd always avoided virgins like the plague. But this one*

He had to stop himself from taking an involuntary step forward. He only caught himself just in time! For the first time tonight, he experienced the ripeness of antic.i.p.ation. He'd yet to gain a glimpse of her face, just a hint of her profile, which held a great deal of promise, her figure a great deal of allure. No, he wasn't worried. His taste in women, as in everything, was fastidious. He wouldn't bed a toad and Gideon knew it. Ah, yes, he reflected in mute satisfaction, to win this wager would be no hards.h.i.+p at all.

Gideon had noted his appreciation. ”Stunning, isn't she?”

There was no need to answer. ”Well,” Justin murmured almost lazily, ”I suppose it's time I sent the pups scattering.” Suddenly he laughed.

”Bed.a.m.ned!” he said. ”No need to bother after all. She's ducked behind the column near the dining room. And now another young woman has joined her -”

”Yes, that's Georgiana Larwood, I believe.”

”No wonder she's known as The Unattainable. It appears she's determined to evade them. Or perhaps someone in particular.”

”Probably you,” injected Gideon with a smirk.

”Highly improbable,” Justin said smoothly. ”Now, wish me luck, old man.” He drained his champagne and placed it on the tray of a pa.s.sing footman. ”Oh, and don't bother calling for details early in the morn. I fear the night may be a long one.”

Gideon hastened to help himself to another gla.s.s of champagne. ”Ah, the master at work! Perhaps I should take notes.”