As though her memories had conjured him up, there stood Hugh Mayford in all his conceited, handsome glory.
Louisa was horrified at the jolt of lust she felt upon seeing him. Had she learned nothing of the man’s black heart?
It had been three years; here was her chance to show him how sophisticated and singularly unaffected she was by him.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out, sounding petulant and very much unsophisticated.
“I live here,” he drawled in response, and Louisa ruthlessly pushed away her reaction to his mellifluous voice.
“Here in the conservatory?” she snapped back. “Quite a tumble from lord of the manor.”
He smirked in response.
“I see time has not mellowed the viper, though it has improved you drastically in other areas.”
His heated gaze travelled leisurely down her body and back up making her feel as though she were slowly catching fire. She didn’t know whether to slap him or throw herself at him.
“I would thank you for the compliment, but since it’s you, I can only assume there was an insult in there somewhere.”
This time his smile was a full blown grin, and Louisa almost staggered back at the impact.
The dratted man! He had no business making her stagger.
“If you must know, I followed you in here,” he spoke now, stepping closer to her, his voice quiet and deep and wicked.
“How could you have followed me in here? Nobody knew I was even coming in here, and you weren’t at the ball.”
“I was at the ball. And I have been watching you all evening.”
Louisa gulped.
If anyone else had said it she probably would have worried for her life. But as awful as Hugh and his incorrigible brothers had been over the years, she’d never actually feared them. Rather than make her afraid, therefore, his words made her positively combust.
Stop it, Louisa, she scolded herself, remember what he said about you.
Deciding to ignore his words, because really, what sort of answer could she give to that, she focused instead on the reasons for his shadowing her.
“Why did you follow me?” she demanded.
“Perhaps I’m hoping for a repeat of the last time we were alone.”
His words, spoken so softly, had the effect of rendering Louisa entirely speechless. And that was a first.
“Come now, Louisa, do not pretend you have forgotten.” He smirked wickedly, stepping closer to her.
“I-I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered, desperately wanting to back away from him but refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Oh, you don’t?” He quirked a brow and Louisa had the ridiculous urge to reach up and run her finger along it. She, who had never been particularly attached to eyebrows in her life.
“No,” she said forcefully, hoping to remind herself, as well as he, that they were sworn enemies, and this was highly inappropriate.
“Hmm. I must admit to a rather bruised ego,” he said with a rueful grin that was much more endearing than it had a right to be.” Perhaps I should remind you.”
Yes, her body cried out.
“No,” her mercifully more logical mouth said. “You should not.”
Louisa thought she saw a flash of disappointment in his cobalt blue eyes but that was madness of course.
He stepped back, and she schooled her features not to show the disappointment she felt.
“What do you really want?” she asked, desperation tingeing her tone now.
She wanted to run away from him, gather her scattered wits, and set about putting the arrogant earl who had upset Meredith in his place.
Her question seemed to take him aback slightly. His eyes widened infinitesimally, before his brow furrowed.
“I’m starting to think I have no idea,” he said roughly.
And once again, Louisa was speechless.
WHAT THE HELL WAS wrong with him?
Hugh hadn’t been lying when he’d told the delectable Louisa Bright that he’d been watching her all evening.
In fact, he’d taken rather a lot of abuse from his irritating little brother because of it.
And yet, he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
He’d been held in rapt fascination by the shimmer of gold in her hair caused by nearby candlelight, by the musical lilt of her laugh as it reached his ears from across the room, by her grace and elegance as she took to the dance floor with more partners than he was happy about.
Mostly, he was base enough to admit, he’d been held captive by the sway of her hips as she walked, the curve of her lips as she smiled, the way her dress clung, then swirled away from her body, causing him no small amount of discomfort.
Of course he’d watched her. He’d be a fool not to.
She was silently waiting for him to actually tell her what he was doing here, so he forced himself to concentrate.