Page 10 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

“Thank you for joining me this week and I hope you enjoyed this evening. Tomorrow, breakfast will be served in the morning parlor and the hunting party will leave at noon.” With a smug expression, her uncle bowed to his clapping guests, rearranged the bottom of his tailcoat, and sat.

The unhappy captain shifted in his seat, picked up his wine glass, frowned, and sat it down without taking a sip.

As soon as dinner was over, Maddie would corner Stephen Eaton somewhere private and make him smile. The man was akin to a prince when he grinned. Just a few words or a laugh or two. Nothing scandalous or indecent.

Tap, Tap, Tap,her impatient fingers drummed on the table. Meanwhile, time seemed to stand still.

Midnight was only one hour away when Sir Saxton dismissed the guests for the evening. Captain Eaton was one of the first to leave the table. Maddie willed patience, counting to ten before following him.

She glided past the milling guests to the hallway, then searched for red in the sea of gray.

Horse feathers! He was gone. She had waited too long.

Hugo Adams stepped in front of her. “Mrs. Spencer, I hope this evening was not too dull for you.”

The pale, lithe man staring at her as if she were a pastry did not take the sting out of missing her soldier. And if she were being truthful, dinner had lasted an eternity. Still, it was better than being in New York mourning a husband she had never loved. Therefore, she aimed for charming.

“It was delightful. My aunt and uncle are amiable hosts.”

She didn’t register Hugo’s response because a glimpse of brilliant hair in the hallway distracted her. Captain Eaton disappeared into the ballroom.

She needed to hurry so she did not lose track of him again. She slid around Hugo and called over her shoulder, “I will see you at breakfast, Mr. Adams.”

“Good evening, Mrs. Spencer,” he called to her back.

Maddie exhaled, pressed on the heavy door, and slipped into the ballroom.

“Piffle.”

He’d vanished. Probably for the best since she really should fight her silly fascination.

After a breath of fresh air, she would head to bed. A good night’s sleep, a hearty breakfast, and a visit to the hothouse and gardens would be a splendid way to spend her Saturday.

Since no one was around, she pretended she was in the red-coated hero’s arms and spun across the ballroom to the glass doors that led to the veranda. The lanterns had not yet been snuffed, illuminating the view of the mountains in the distance. A movement off to the side caught her eye.

Please let it be him.

She pressed her face against the glass to get a better view.

Pitter-patter. Her heart danced a heavy-footed jig against her chest. Silly indeed. But he was masculine perfection.

His muscular frame leaned against the railing, and his profile showcased his chiseled jawline. He must spend excessive amounts of time engaged in sport. Perhaps, sword in hand, he could swing across a room on a rope and save her from an evil villain. And then he would take her into his arms and press his lips to hers.

Did he kiss with his tongue? Oh, how she had liked that when Kit McDonald had once done it. And as handsome as Kit was, Captain Eaton was ten times the man as the married McDonald.

Her heavy breaths fogged the glass as an excruciating ache washed over her. Then came the second agonizing blow. The captain wore such a pained expression that it pummeled her in the heart. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. She couldn’t wipe it away because it connected her to him. Somehow, she knew, they both needed her to press her body against his.

Merciful heavens. Love at first sight did exist.

She opened the door. He turned in her direction. Then she swung her hips as she swiftly approached him.

Chapter five

October 3rd, 1817

Onceagain,someonewaswatching Stephen. They were behind the large oak at the end of the garden. Leaping from the balcony to chase them down would result in a broken leg. Moreover, your enemy should never see you coming. If it was indeed the enemy, and not a hedgehog or a family pet.

The ballroom door opened, and a tornado of scarlet sensuality careened toward him. He braced himself and caught her in his arms. He’d have thought he was dreaming except that the soft lips pressing against his mouth were tangible. And he could not still be foxed since his expanding cock ramming into the siren’s hip was proof of sobriety.