Hawk & the Lady - Elizabeth Stevens Page 0,11

ever. As effortless as any of the social brats there, but without the air of trying to be the most noticed or most important or most envied. His stance was pure ease, like he was comfortable in his own skin in the room he was in. His face was smooth and relaxed, sitting in an open, welcoming state quite foreign to these parts.

As we walked towards him, the corner of his lips tipped up like he knew she was up to something and I couldn’t help my own tipping in response. It hadn’t taken me long to realise that he elicited such a reaction from me; anytime I saw him even remotely close to smiling, it made me smile as well.

“Mrs Fortescue,” he said slowly. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”

He looked at me like I was in on the joke and I wondered just what the joke was.

“I was busy setting up introductions since you won’t do it yourself,” she told him sternly but fondly. “Patrick, this is Leah Carmichael. Leah, this is Patrick Grace. And it is my firm belief that the two of you would dance wonderfully together.”

Patrick smiled to me. “And just what would Miss Carmichael’s companion say about that?”

“Call me Leah, please,” I blurted out like I was so desperate to hear my name on his lips I’d reverted back to an awkward teenager.

“Leah,” sounded just as good on those lips as I firmly denied I’d been hoping for.

“I’m quite sure that Leah doesn’t give two figs about what Edward says about that,” Mrs Fortescue replied, matter-of-fact.

“Are you trying to pimp me out?” I faux-whispered to her with a grin and saw Patrick fight to keep his smile under control.

Mrs Fortescue levelled a look on me. “Is that what you call setting up two stubborn people who can’t keep their eyes off each other from across a crowded room? Then, yes.”

I didn’t know what to say to that and, now I was this close to him and he wasn’t saying anything either, I was a little disappointed with the reality of him. It wasn’t like I’d spent hours in my bed with my vibrator thinking about him or anything, but I had expected a little more than this quiet man in front of me.

“Well, are you going to ask her to dance?” she asked Patrick with all the fond exasperation of an older woman talking to her favourite descendant.

Patrick turned his humoured gaze from her to me and back again. “How am I to know whether Leah would agree from actual desire or just obligation now?” he replied as though there was some running theme between them about me.

Colour me intrigued.

Mrs Fortescue tsked. “Pish. My husband could feel the desire sizzling between the two of you from a different room. Now, don’t make an old woman be any more overt on the subject.”

“You’re hardly an old woman,” was delivered with such sincerity I was starting to wonder if Patrick belonged here after all.

“And you’re obliged to be nice to me.”

“Nice and dishonest are two very different things.”

As I watched the interchange between them, I knew Mrs Fortescue wasn’t wrong. There was something about Patrick that irrevocably drew me to him, made me wonder about him. He wasn’t just an attractive man, he had an air of…mystery wasn’t the right word; he didn’t exude the brooding bad boy destined to make me break my own heart that I’d been so very into in my teens and early twenties (and was yet to fully grow out of). But there was something about him that hinted at hidden depths. Layers. A look in his eyes that begged to be investigated.

And I was more than happy to investigate them.

“Would it be easier if I asked?”

They both turned to look at me. Patrick had a slight mischievous glint in his eyes that told me he was very interested in seeing where this was going to go. While Mrs Fortescue’s smirk looked so victorious that I wondered just how long she’d been waiting for this introduction. And, if she’d been waiting for it for so long, I had to wonder why she hadn’t just come out and done something sooner.

“I think it would certainly speed up the process,” Mrs Fortescue answered.

“The process?” I asked, a smile at my lips. “You make it sound like you’ve already planned the wedding.” I threw a humoured look to Patrick – not quite a teasing wink – so he knew I was most definitely