Maribella closed her eyes tightly, the opened them again but he was still there. As she watched, Lord Byron unfurled his long length and stood, magnificent and, suddenly; to Maribella at east, oddly intimidating, before her. In the light o the full moon spilling through the large windows, his tawny eyes rover appreciatively over her. He caught her small hand in his and raised it to his lips. "I didn't think you'd be long."

His lazy tones, pitched very low, washed languidly over Maribella. With a conscious effort, she tried to break free of heir hypnotic hold. "How could you know I was coming here? I didn't."

"Well," he answered reasonably, "I couldn't think where else you would go, if you didn't have a partner for the supper waltz."

He knew! In the moonlight, Maribella's fiery blush faded into more delicate tints but the effect on her temper was the same. "You oaf!" she said in a fierce whisper, aiming a stinging slap at the grin on his large face. But the grin grew into a smile as he easily caught her hand and drew it down and then behind her, drawing her towards him. He captured her other hand as well and imprisoned that in the same large hand behind her back.

"Lord Byron! Let me go!" Maribella pleaded, keeping her voice low for fear the others beyond the curtain would hear. How hideously embarrassing to be found in such a situation. And now she had another problem. What was Henry up to? As her anger drained, all sorts of other emotions came to the fore. She looked up, her eyes huge and shining in the moonlight, her lips slightly parted in surprise.

Henry lifted his free hand and one long finger traced the curve of her full lower lip.

Even with only the moon to light his face, Maribella saw the glimmer of desire in his eyes. "Henry, let me go. Please?"

He smiled lazily down at her. "In a moment, sweetheart. After I've rendered you incapable of scratching my eyes out."

His fingers had taken hold of her chin and he waited to see the fury in her eyes before he chuckled and bent his head until his lips met hers.

Maribella has every intention of remaining aloof from his kisses. Damn him—he tricked her! She tried to whip up her anger, but all she could think of was how wonderfully warm his lips felt against hers. And what delicious sensations were running along her nerves. Everywhere. Her body, entirely of its own volition, melted into his arms.

She felt, rather than heard, his deep chuckle as his arms shifted and tightened about her. Finding her hands free and resting on his shoulders, she did not quite know what to do with them. Box his ears? In the end, she twined then about his neck, holding him close.

When Henry finally lifted his head, it was to see the stars reflected in her eyes. He smiled lazily down at her. "Now you have to admit that's more fun than waltzing."

Maribella could think of nothing to say.

"No quips?" he prompted.

She blushed lightly. "We should be getting back." She tried to ear herself from his embrace but his arms moved not at all.

Still smiling in that sleepy way, he shook his head. "Not yet. That was just the waltz. We've supper to go yet." His lips lightly brushed hers. "And I'm ravenously hungry."

Despite the situation, Maribella nearly giggled at the boyish tone. But she became much more serious when his lips returned fully to hers, driving her into far deeper waters than she had ever sailed before.

But he was experienced enough correctly to gauge her limits, to stop just short and retreat, until they were sane again. Later, both more serious than was their wont, they returned separately to the ballroom.