Free On a Long Ago Night by Susan Sizemore Page B

strode forward with a swift, brisk assurance, ail
    grace and fire. Even if she had not caused such a scandal with him
    a few nights before, Honoria believed all eyes would have turned
    his way simply because he was in the room. It was not fair that he
    could look his fill at her while she was limited to shadows and
    outlines, though Lord knew the man was drawn on a large enough
    canvas for even her to make out some detail. It was very tempting,
    however, to lean close when the big man gracefully took both her
    hands in his—and temptation was something she hadn't felt for a
    long time.
    "Stop that," she said, when his lips brushed across the back of
    first one hand and then the other. Her words were spoken barely
    aloud and with little conviction. She added with more aplomb, "Or
    is that how it is done in Spain?"
    "I don't know," he answered, his rich voice a low Arabic purr.
    "I never kissed a
    duchess in Spain."
    There was something in his tone that said he intended to do
    more than kiss her gloved hands. The intimation sent a shiver of
    anticipation through Honoria that she fought down. His assured,
    arrogant attitude did serve to reassure her that she had not imagined
    the way he had touched her at the ball, or the sensual way he had
    whispered in her ear when their bodies were so close together.
    He had spoken to her in Arabic.
    Marbury stood very close to her once more when he
    straightened, as if he had a right, or even a need, to be near her. He
    was so close that she had no trouble making out his boldly drawn
    features. Not that she needed any assistance in knowing exactly
    what he looked like. How well she recalled that characteristic tilt of
    his head, the strong jaw, the heavy arched brows, the wide, full lips
    and thick, dark lashes surrounding large, honey-amber eyes. She'd
    hoped—all right, pretended—she had been mistaken at the ball.
    She had told herself she was deranged, since that made more sense.
    But here he was, larger than she remembered, more arrogant. Alive.
    Here.
    "Diego."
    "Please call me James," he said with rote politeness, as he
    switched back to lightly accented English. He calmly stepped back
    to an appropriate distance for a man and woman together in public.
    If he was aware of the attention swirling around them, he gave no
    sign. "Though I suppose 'Mr. Marbury' and 'Lady Alexandra' are
    the proper forms of address for two people who have such a short
    acquaintance." He smiled as he looked around, showing that he was
    conscious that they were being watched. Honoria was aware of a
    flash of bright white teeth. She recalled how devastating that smile
    could be when set off by a dark beard. "I have had etiquette
    lessons," he said, playing to that crowd.
    She could not see the charming twinkle in his eyes, but she
    heard it in his voice, felt it in the response from the onlookers. He
    could make them like him, believe him. Want him. When they
    laughed, it made her want to scream.
    Somehow, she smiled instead. "The deportment lessons
    seemed to have taken—Mr. Marbury. I'm not sure the same can be
    said for mine." She was speaking! Actually coherently speaking!
    "Untrue, Lady Alexandra." He touched his cheek with the tip
    of a finger. "The note you sent me was a masterpiece of propriety.
    And you have such lovely handwriting."
    "I don't imagine you had any trouble making it out." Was his
    smile as frozen as hers? She couldn't tell. "Does your facility for
    languages extend to being able to read them as well? Arabic?
    Turkish? Latin and Greek?" Fool ! she shouted to herself. This is
    not the time or place ! But she had to know.
    "Alas, no, Lady Alexandra. Until recently I could make out
    only a bit of Spanish. I was never a very good student, though I am
    told my comprehension of English is progressing nicely. I haven't
    had the advantage of your classical education."
    "How odd," she said in Arabic, "I thought you took
    advantage of it quite thoroughly." He could always be lying. He
    probably