It took him all the strength in the world to tear himself away from her last night. But he could not risk getting caught.

It would ruin her.

So he left her in peaceful sleep and snuck out of her room in the wee hours of the morning.

He was the epitome of serenity and calm as he stood on the edge of the ballroom's dance floor. It would be his last night in town. He received news from the man who he hired to investigate the whereabouts of his father's widow. She was reportedly in a town close by. The information, although vague, had spurred him into cutting his visit short and seek her out to make her pay. He had everything he needed after this is all over. He will return to claim Tempest as his bride and he will commit to her heart, mind, and soul.

But tonight as he watched London's elite pour through the doors, he could not shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. But he would not let those feelings get in the way of his plans for tonight.

Tonight he will ask her mother for her hand in marriage. With that, he felt an excitement he hasn't felt in a long time as he searched for her.

Then suddenly, through a gathering crowd of the Tons finest and elite, he caught sight of her. She stood in the midst of a cluster of finely dressed ladies in colorful gowns, all eager to catch the minimal opportunity to dance with a wealthy, eligible bachelor.

Tempest saw him immediately and her eyes lit up with delight. She had long since been pulled away from her mother's side at the entrance and now stood with her peers as they slowly walked towards the side of the ballroom. Inconspicuously, she glanced over at Justin, undeniably handsome as he stared directly at her for a long moment before averting his gaze with a devilish grin. With a smile of her own, she demurely lowered her eyes and looked away turning her attention to the ballroom floor, with the intermixture of colorful skirts twirling, the slight sounds of laughter and hushed conversations over the soft sounds of Bach.

Suddenly, the slight gasps of the girls around her pulled her back.

" Oh my! who is that?" one girl asked excitedly.

She turned slightly towards them and followed their gazes.

" I don't think I have seen anyone as attractive as he," another at her side whispered.

"Do any of you know who he is?" a shrieky voice cut in. She turned to realize it was Ethel, Lord Percival's niece that asked. Her flustered face turned pink like salmon and Tempest turned to follow her gaze. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Justin easily striding towards them. They watched as his magnificent stature walked around lingering couples.

"He is simply gorgeous," Ethel whispered. Tempest could not reply even if she wanted to. Simply dazzled by him, she stood rigid to the spot. Her gaze locked with his as he made his way towards her.

"Lady's smile he's coming our way," another squealed. Off at her side, she felt them rearrange themselves and brush their gowns with their hands then clear their throats. But not her. Spellbound, she couldn't move.

For an endless moment, time stopped, then he was before her. All eyes were on her in shock as others sighed dreamily.

"May I have this dance?" his husky voice was soft, low and rich.

A silent exchange of trust and love only they knew of, passed from his upturned hand to hers as she placed it softly above his. Gently, he pulled her forward, and in all her elegance, she followed alongside him to the dance floor. It fascinated him to no end having her close in his arms once more. Her heat and sweet scent permeated his skin thoroughly. He pulled her close as modesty would permit and they danced. They strolled with ease across the dance floor to the soft minuet of a waltz. As she stared up at him, he knew he had never seen anyone more beautiful than she.

"I see you have created quite a stir," she said with a playful smile.

"No more than you," he replied with a gorgeous grin.

The satisfaction she felt from his compliment wrapped her up in a seductive warmth that left her cheeks pink and it amused him greatly. They glided along the floor lost in their own pleasant conversation.

"I was thinking," he held her attention. "It would be best if I ask for your hand tonight before I leave," he smiled down at her, holding her gaze filled with excitement.

Tempest for as long as she could remember she never had the intention of marrying anyone.

She imagined living free and happy in Jamaica. Her mother would accuse her of being too unruly and untamed for gentle society with her whimsical ideas that were simply not good for a young lady of her station. Her mother had fancied her debut this season would be a success with an ideal match of her choosing. But, this would not be the case.

Her stomach fluttered and for a slice of a second, she wondered if her mother would approve of him.

"Unless you would rather wait," he paused watching her closely then said.

"We can do everything when I return."

" That won't be necessary," Smiling brightly, she replied.

"Besides, I would not want those harpies to beat me at winning the catch of the season," she teased with a beautiful smile that nearly left him breathless.

He pulled her slightly closer. "So you find me an excellent catch then?" he regarded her closely with an amusing grin.

"Yes, wouldn't you if you were in my shoes?" her gaze dazzled him.

"Touchê," he chuckled. His blue eyes sparkling.

He twirled her around gently without faltering in their steps.

"Truthfully, I think my marriage plans are in the making for more of an enchantress rather than a harpy," he grinned. His voice was low and warm with amusement.

"Is that so?" she laughed.

"Indeed," he countered without pause. Then he leaned forward with a finished whisper. "I prefer the dark-haired enchantress that has smitten my crew... and has stolen my heart."

Mesmerized by his words, her cheeks colored as his vibrant eyes turned seductive. Desire filled him as he held her even closer than before. Close enough to feel her heat, delicate curves, and smell a trace of the sweet floral scent of her skin curling upward to entice his senses.

Attempting to remain in control, he swallowed hard, shifting his gaze toward the large crowd that began to part from the dance floor. Pulling away slightly, they faced one another.

"Miss Whitwell," he addressed her. The tenor of his voice was deep, formal, and warm.

"Yes, My Lord," she smiled beautifully meeting his gaze.

His lips twitched at her good-humored response acknowledging him for his title. Tempest switched from one foot to another feeling giddy and adored under his passionate gaze. He took a step closer with his hands clasped behind his back to stand formally erect.

The slightest second it took his lids to lower hungrily down the length of her then to rest on her lips, she felt her core twinge. His voice dropped with a husky whisper.

"Unless we don't want the Ton to revel in gossip about us escaping for a brief romp in an empty alcove my love, I think it's best we meet your mother... Now," she felt her heart thundering in her chest, the high coloring of her cheeks fascinated him. He suddenly felt strong, vibrant, and alive before her.

"Shall we?" he extended his long fingers and watched as she gingerly placed hers above his.

Slowly as he escorted her, Tempest grinned and glanced around the crowded ballroom in search of her mother. A lingering Joy flushed through her as they walked through the luxurious ballroom, hand in hand.

The evenings' event until she saw Justin, promised a night of rigidity and stuffiness amongst her peers. But now she was free of it all. At a distance, her mother stood near a buffet table sipping champagne and exchanging light conversation with a group of ladies. Her apprehension disappeared with the reassuring gentle squeeze of his fingers as they approached the group of women.

Confident for the moment, she inhaled deeply as the women parted the way as she and Justin walked near the center towards her mother.

Lady Fontaine stood in the circle of women sipping champagne. Abruptly one of them cleared their throat and turn to face her.

"Excuse me, but Lady Fontaine, I do say we must be introduced to the undeniably handsome beau that is in the company of your daughter."

Lady Fontaine shook her head with a laugh turning to follow their gazes. Then suddenly she fell silent as her daughter slowly approached her in the company of a man of magnificent stature.

He stared directly at her for a long intimidating moment.

"Mother?" Tempest faced her smiling; stepping to the side to offer full view of the man standing at her side.

"I would like to introduce to you, Lord Justin O'Shae, Earl of Abingdon, Viscount of Wynford."

Her mother couldn't move. Her gaze suddenly locked with his.

She stiffened and went pale.

It couldn't be!

His eyes.....

Those eyes...

Then, recognition dawned in his eyes.

Oh, my God......

this little piece for you guys.... so sorry that I haven't been up on my writing so much I hopethisand like... Have a good an