From Chapter 5:

"She is indeed lovely, Adam. She will make a beautiful bride."

"Yes, she is lovely, but you, my dear, outshine every other woman tonight. You look stunning in that dress. The color suits you."

Marianne looked down at the mulberry crepe, its faint sheen picked up by the moonlight. "Do you think so? You do not think it too bold?"

"For such a brazen flirt? No, it is perfect."

Marianne laughed. "I confess I am feeling a bit brazen tonight."

"So I noticed. How many other gentleman have fallen victim to that fan?"

She shrugged and smiled. "Only a few."

He gave a snort and looked away. "I never before knew you to employ a fan. Is this something new?"

"Wilhelmina gave us a refresher course in the language of the fan, and I have come to find it quite useful."

"Us?"

Oh dear. She could not tell him about the Merry Widows. It was a secret pact, and she had almost let it slip. "The trustees. We got a bit silly at one of our meetings, that's all. I had quite forgotten all those signals one could send with a fan."

"It seems to have come back to you easily enough."

Marianne hunched a shoulder. "It has certainly made things easier for me. I am still feeling awkward and uncertain when it comes to attracting a man with words. I've never known how to flirt properly, so all I've done is talk with them. It seems to be working."

"My dear, you underestimate your powers. You don't need to make a special effort to attract a man."

He reached out and ran the back of a finger gently along her cheek. She caught her breath. He noticed, of course, and his lazy green eyes twinkled.

"All you need to do," he continued, "is smile and look up at him with those big brown eyes and he will be lost to you." He gave a rueful little laugh. "I guarantee it."

"Thank you, Adam." Her skin still tingled where he'd touched her. "I appreciate your advice, even though I know you do not approve of what I'm doing."

"I do not disapprove, my dear. If I said anything to the contrary the other night, you must blame it on the drink. You are entitled to your pleasure. But you must permit me to be provoked that I cannot be the one to share it with you." He flashed a wicked grin.

He was teasing, of course — he was always teasing — but she wished he would not. It only encouraged impossible fantasies.

"So, have you made your way through the list yet?"

"Almost," she said. "I have not yet seen Lord Aldershot this evening, but Sir Arthur and Mr. Gilchrist have been most attentive. Not to mention Lord Hopwood."

"Hopwood? I don't recall discussing him."

"We didn't. It was an impulse."

"Hmph. He is too old for you."

"Nonsense. Oh, and there was Mr. Fitzwilliam as well."

"Fitzwilliam? Egad, another impulse?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Just because I didn't think to put a man's name on my list does not mean I cannot consider him if I so choose."

"Fitzwilliam is too dreamy. The man always has his head in the clouds."

Marianne laughed. "Adam, you are hopeless. You think no one is suitable."

He leaned down and placed his lips so close to her ear she could feel his breath. "No one is good enough for you, my dear."

His breath and his words sent a shiver down her arms. Lord, how on earth did people survive in such a charged atmosphere? How had she lived almost thirty years without recognizing it all around her? This new self-conscious sexual tension she'd felt all evening with every man who danced with her was even stronger around Adam. Had it been there all along, the whole time she'd known him, and she'd been too self-absorbed to notice?