Amelia's mouth was dry as she met the challenge in Preston's green eyes. If there was ever a time she should run away from him, this was it. And yet... She inclined her head in a barely perceptible nod. Something dark and dangerous glittered in his eyes, stirring the fluttering inside her abdomen once again.

"For a start," he mumbled as his knuckles dropped to the bare skin on her shoulder next to the collar line of her dress, "never allow a man this close to you. It is far too scandalous and allows him far too much freedom."

Using his fingertips, he trailed a path along the fabric of her dress, chasing gooseflesh across her chest. Reaching the opposite shoulder, he followed the line of her clavicles to return to his original position. Anticipation of his next move kept her grounded to the spot, unable to move, as he hesitated. Was he waiting for her to tell him to stop? She had no inclination to do so.

When she remained silent, he raised a dark eyebrow before leaning down. As his hot breath fanned her neck, she placed her palms against the flat surface of the door behind her to keep herself from reaching for him. His lips dragged across the sensitive spot below her ear, making her draw a sharp breath as the butterflies in her abdomen exploded in a flurry of fluttering wings.

Reaching the area where her neck met her shoulder, he kissed it, his warm lips against her skin sending tingles throughout her entire being.

"Definitely don't allow anyone to do this," he mumbled against her, and she had to bite her lower lip to keep silent when he continued lavishing her neck with hot kisses and gentle nibbles. When he teased her earlobe with his tongue, she couldn't hold back as a low moan wrenched free of her throat.

Preston pulled back slightly, drawing a deep breath.

"Bloody hell." The hoarse quality of his voice sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine to pool low in her abdomen.

The hand at her waist grabbed a fistful of fabric from her dress in a tight grip, as if he struggled to hold back. The possibility of that made her giddy. He might not be who she envisioned for a husband, but the thought of bringing a rake of his calibre to his knees was not without merit. She could admit to being vain enough to appreciate the idea of him unable to resist her.

"What else?" she asked quietly. "I need to know what to look out for."

A dark chuckle against her neck reverberated through her body. Lifting his head, Preston looked down at her. "Are you trying to break me, Amelia?"

"In what way?"

The corner of his mouth curved into a wry smile. "Every way."

She pursed her lips. "I haven't considered. If I'm honest, not much planning has gone into this."

"One would hope," he muttered, but there was an amused glint in his eyes.

When he did nothing, she shifted from one foot to the other. After another moment of nothing, she cleared her throat. "So, are you going to continue?"

His gaze swept over her, his eyes hooded. "I really ought to leave before we do something we regret."

She cocked her head to the side. "Are you regretting kissing me?"

With a groan, he dragged his hand through his dark hair. "Yes, and no."

"Oh." Why was she disappointed? She tapped her fingers against the door behind her as she tried to figure out her complicated feelings. She wanted Preston to kiss her. Wanted him to want to kiss her. Even if he was everything she should not want. "Did you not enjoy it?"

"Amelia, I absolutely enjoyed kissing you. Probably too much. But now that I've tasted you..." He cleared his throat. Shaking his head, he smiled wryly. "I don't want to stop. If I had never kissed you... I wouldn't know what I was missing."

Guilt washed over her. She didn't mean to be playing with his feelings. It was unfair of her to keep coming back to him after he had admitted how he felt. Especially now that she knew he had meant it. Originally, she had truly believed he only said it out of some misguided honour, but she believed him now. She could not deny being attracted to him. If he wasn't a rake, she probably would not have hesitated to accept his suit. But she did not subscribe to the idea that reformed rakes made the best husbands. Doubted they could ever truly be reformed.

She had no intention of ever entrusting a rake with her heart again. And she suspected that if Preston broke her heart, she would never recover. This was nothing like the youthful infatuation she'd had with Fulmer. What she felt for Preston was much bigger, and much more dangerous. Which was exactly why she ought to leave this room right this minute. But her feet refused to move.

As if he had a similar thought, Preston sighed. "You should leave. If anyone finds us, it would be a scandal."

It would. They'd be forced to marry. But she still wasn't moving. Her body still tingled from his earlier touches, and she wasn't ready to relinquish the feeling. He stood close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the pull to walk into his embrace almost overwhelming. If only she had developed these feelings for someone else. This unbearable attraction. It was selfish of her, but she could not stop herself from putting a hand on his chest. He glanced down at it, her white glove against his black tailcoat, before meeting her eyes.

"Amelia?"

"You have not finished your instructions," she said. "I still do not fully know what to avoid."

Preston closed his eyes for a moment. "You will be the end of me," he mumbled, then chuckled. "And not only because your brothers would be as likely to shoot me as anything else if they found us."

She giggled. "They are really against this match."

He sobered and stared down at her. "As are you."

As she met his gaze, she wasn't sure she was as against it as she ought to be. Except for his rakishness, Preston was pretty much everything she wanted in a husband. Caring and attentive. Always close to a smile. And he made her laugh. She loved their teasing discussions. But she would not fall in love with him. It just was not an option. Which was exactly why she should leave right now. Before she pulled his head down for the kiss she had been longing for all day.

"I'm sorry," she blurted before turning around and opening the door. Before he could react, she had left the room and was walking back towards the ballroom. Poor Preston. She was forever running away from him.

Not wishing to speak to anyone, she slipped out onto the terrace only to run into another woman who dropped her fan from the impact. She really must start paying more attention. This was not the first time she'd walked straight into someone.

"My apologies!" Amelia said quickly, as she bent to retrieve the fan. Handing it back to the woman, she recognised the blonde as Viscount Gowthorpe's sister whose coming-out ball she was attending. They had been introduced earlier in the evening. "Miss Grafton? Are you all right?"

The young woman smiled, even if it did not quite reach her eyes. Maybe she had been planning to hide on the terrace as well. "I am fine, thank you, Lady Amelia. I hope you're enjoying the ball?"

Amelia threw a look over her shoulder to make sure Preston or her brother had not followed her. "Yes, thank you. It is a lovely ball." Turning back to the other woman, she smiled wryly. "Though I must admit, I am hiding for a moment."

Miss Grafton laughed quietly. "I can appreciate the need for a moment alone. In truth, I often sneak outside during balls and events for a brief respite from the crowds."

"They can be rather stifling, can they not?" Amelia grinned, enjoying the other woman's candour.

"Quite."

"Would you care to stay out here with me for a moment? No gentleman will approach us if we appear deep in discussion. Or so I hope."

"I'd love to." Miss Grafton nodded, and they walked over to stand by the terrace railing looking out over the garden.

Amelia had no intention of venturing into the garden tonight. Whenever she did, she appeared to do something foolish. Like kissing Preston. She groaned inwardly as the mere thought made her insides flutter to life.

"Is something the matter?" Miss Grafton asked.

"No." Amelia sighed. "Maybe? I am trying to make sense of this whole courtship thing. Of love."

"Oh." The young woman smiled. "I know very little of such things. My family has intended for me to marry a gentleman already chosen for me since I was still a child."

"It is not as if they explain anything to us anyway," Amelia muttered. "All I know is that this man is all wrong for me."

Her cheeks heated as she realised she'd said too much. Miss Grafton said nothing at first, only stared out over the garden with a line between her brows as she considered the statement.

"Please ignore my ramblings," Amelia said. "I have a tendency to speak too freely."

Miss Grafton turned her head to meet her eyes. "Never apologise. It's a fresh breath in a society where everyone is forever polite. Forever holding back what they truly wish to say."

Amelia laughed. "Not I. To my family's frustration, I imagine."

"The only thing I know with certainty about love," Miss Grafton said thoughtfully, "is that we cannot choose who we feel for. Nor can we force feelings for someone. No matter how much we might try."

"Well, that is not good enough," Amelia muttered. "I should be able to choose who I care for."

"If only it were so." Miss Grafton sighed. "Life would certainly be much easier if we could."

The wistful note in the other woman's voice piqued Amelia's interest, but she didn't want to pry. No, she definitely wanted to pry, but she didn't know the young lady well enough yet to do so.

"So what do we do?" she asked, unsure of whether she was asking herself or Miss Grafton. "If we are doomed to follow the whims of our emotions?"

"We do what we can, I suppose." Miss Grafton lifted her head to the pale moon hanging above the garden. "Does your gentleman share your feelings?"

"I..." Amelia looked down at her hands. Why was she pouring her heart out to this stranger? They had only met today. And yet, she felt as if her secrets would be safe, and it felt good to speak to someone about her tumultuous thoughts. "He said he loves me."

"Do you love him? You said he is wrong for you, but how do you feel about him?"

Scowling at nothing in particular, Amelia thought about Preston. About his wry smiles that made her insides lurch. About his easy conversation that always entertained her. About his kisses that made her head spin.

"How do I know? How do I know if it's only attraction or something more?"

"Well..." Miss Grafton hedged. "Can you imagine your life without him? Can you imagine him married to someone else?"

The idea of Preston with another woman made her queasy. And a life without him? She had never imagined such a thing. He had been a constant in hers for as long as she could remember, so a life without him simply did not exist. Her eyes widened. Blast! She did love him.

She buried her face in her gloved hands. "But what do you do if he's not what you wanted? I swore to stay away from rakes."

Miss Grafton smiled. "I believe anyone is capable of change. Maybe you need to give him the chance to prove to you that he can."

Amelia chuckled. "How are you so positive?"

The other woman lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I have to be. Life is too bleak without a positive outlook."

"Thank you for this chat," Amelia said, and she truly meant it. Walking to the doors to the ballroom, she stopped and turned around. "I wish you luck with your situation, too. I hope you find every happiness."

A shadow passed over Miss Grafton's face, but she smiled and nodded. "Thank you. You too."

Turning back to the doors, Amelia almost bumped into the Marquess of Pensington. Again. She really must learn to look before walking.

She curtsied. "My lord."

"Lady Amelia," he said as he sketched a bow.

She didn't stay to see if he would make conversation. She needed to see Preston.

It was time to stop running.

~~~~~~