Free Pride and Pleasure by Sylvia Day Page B

regards to you. How can he compete with a man such as yourself? I vow there isn’t another male in the world who is as stunning. In the face of what must have been a crushing feeling of inferiority, offering a dance seemed the least I could do.”
    Jasper’s face gave away none of his thoughts. After a torturously long delay, he said, “You have no notion that the room just tilted on its axis, do you?”

Chapter 5
    J asper watched as Eliza’s gaze darted around the Exhibition Hall in search of proof to support his claim. A rush of tenderness tightened his chest and prevented him from explaining.
    Eliza returned her attention to him. “Lady Collingsworth doesn’t look as if something so phenomenal has happened.”
    “Ah, Eliza,” he murmured, warmly amused. “Lynd said you would drive me mad, and he was correct, as usual.”
    Her pretty mouth pursed into a tight line. “I begin to feel as if I am lacking wits,” she groused. “I have been at a loss to understand anything since I woke this morning.”
    He found her confusion poignantly endearing. He wished he could reply to her in a gentler manner, but he was not a gentle man. As surprising as her use of “mate” had been earlier, he found it brilliantly apt now. His desire for her was at a fever pitch, his blood hot and his patience far too thin. If they’d been alone, he would be fucking her now. Mating with her. Pumping his cock so deep into her she would have no doubt that her public performance was the furthest thing from his mind.
    Rolling his shoulders back, he tried to ward off the tension building there. He could not talk about sex right now, even to say that he wanted it with her. The words would be too coarse, his vehemence too frightening. And he wasn’t yet sure that she wanted it with him. Her body did, yes. Watching her melt for him in the barouche had been singularly the most arousing experience of his life. But she had been overwhelmed and not thinking properly at the time. Eliza needed to be cognizant of her decision to take him to her bed if he was to have her as he wanted.
    She watched him now, wary and unsure.
    He urged her to walk with him, needing to be in motion. It didn’t escape his notice that she had him in this state by speech alone. Not with a look or a touch, but with innocently spoken, artlessly truthful words.
    “I want you to teach me how to dance,” he said.
    “Truly?” The excitement in her voice was its own reward.
    “It’s the only way to make restitution for giving my dance to someone else.” And another way to add a block of time with her to his schedule.
    Her smile was a sight to behold. “I must warn you, I am not a very good instructor of anything. I lack patience and become easily frustrated.”
    “I am a speedy learner,” he assured, intending to make the lessons worth her while in many ways.
    “Very well, then. I would be happy to try.”
    Returning his attention to the portraits on the wall, Jasper acknowledged that he enjoyed the exhibition. He had not expected to, as he wasn’t fond of crowds. The room was almost full and the hum of conversation was a steady but not-unpleasant drone. He should not have felt comfortable there. He was a mongrel among purebreds, yet Eliza made him feel as if he was right where he should be. At the very least, right where he wanted to be.
    “Which is your favorite so far?” she asked.
    “I think that one.” He pointed to an image of a galloping horse. “I can almost feel the wind when I look at it.”
    “Mine is this one.” She pulled him forward and singled out a portrait of a dancing nymph with flowing hair and ribbons. “The skill involved in turning mere paints into an image that looks as if it can walk right off the canvas . . . I am awed by it.”
    “I’m glad you came with me and not with Tolliver,” he said.
    She squeezed his arm. “I am, too.”
    They continued around the room at a leisurely pace, pausing every few feet to take in the many paintings