How to Steal a Thief's Heart - Bree Wolf Page 0,40

hands.

A chuckle rumbled in this throat, and he stepped closer. “You seem not quite like yourself. Are you unwell?”

Moving a step away, Caroline turned to allow her gaze to sweep over the distant dancers. “I’m quite well, my lord. Thank you.” She all but turned her shoulder to him, gently indicating her disinterest.

Instead of taking the hint, however, the Black Baron stepped around her, his dark gaze seeking hers. “Would you like to dance?”

His question slammed into her like a punch to the stomach, and Caroline could not prevent her eyes from widening in shock. Her hands tensed on her glass as panic flooded her being.

Never had anyone asked her to dance! Certainly not an eligible peer! And definitely not with such persistence! What on earth could he want? Was this a game? A wager perhaps?

His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as though he understood her discomfort very well and enjoyed it immensely. “You cannot tell me you do not enjoy dancing, Miss Hawkins.” A teasing grin tugged on his lips. “After all, it is such an…exciting pastime.” His brows rose as though to imply a deeper meaning.

Caroline swallowed, fighting down the urge to slap him. She rarely lost her composure but, for some reason, this man riled her. It took no more than a look or a word, and she felt the deep desire to claw his eyes out. “I’m afraid I’m a poor dancer, my lord,” she replied, willing her voice to remain even. “You’d be well-advised to ask a more proficient lady.”

He sidled closer, forcing her to take a step back in order to maintain an appropriate distance. “I don’t want a proficient dancer,” he all but whispered in her ear as his head lowered to hers. “I want you.”

Caroline gritted her jaw as his warm breath fanned over the side of her neck, oddly enough, reminding her of her masked savior. He’d possessed the same audacity. Two men cut from the same cloth, and they’d both chosen to annoy her. What luck!

“I’m afraid I must decline,” Caroline finally willed herself to say in a quiet tone as she lifted her gaze to his for the barest of seconds. “I feel a bit faint at present and—”

“Is that an excuse?” he demanded with a chuckle.

Her eyes snapped up. “I beg your pardon.”

For a moment, he simply looked at her before his gaze swept over the guests nearest to them. Then he lifted a hand and ran it leisurely through his dark locks. Upon lowering his arm, his knuckles brushed against hers, the look in his eyes telling her that it had been anything but accidental. Another tease! Another challenge! “Do you dislike me?”

Caroline swallowed, feeling her control beginning to slip. “I do not know you well enough, my lord, to—”

“But you dislike my company,” he stated with a wicked grin as he all but peeked over the rim of her glasses and met her eyes.

“I do not,” Caroline forced herself to say, her hands on her glass tensing so tightly that she feared it would soon yield. “I merely prefer to be left alone.”

“Is that so? Then what pastimes do you enjoy aside from your little embroidery circle?”

“I—” Her chin snapped up, and she stared at him. “How do you know that? I—”

“Don’t look so shocked,” he chided. The twinkle in his eyes told her that she was reacting exactly the way he’d wanted her to. “That can’t possibly be your deepest and darkest secret.”

Caroline felt the blood drain from her face.

“You look out of sorts,” he commented before he moved closer yet again, his hand coming to take hold of her elbow.

Caroline felt her breath shudder past her lips at the contact.

“Perhaps you should sit.” Without another word, he steered her a few steps to the side where a row of chairs had been set up against the back wall. “Better?” he asked, after all but pushing her down to sit.

Caroline could do little else but stare at him, utterly disgusted with herself for her inability to simply ignore him. Why couldn’t she ignore him? What was it about him that had her so on edge? Was it the way he looked at her as though he truly did know her deepest and darkest secret? Was it the way he kept moving close, his large body all but dwarfing hers? Or the way he kept touching her in passing, the tips of his fingers trailing ever so lightly across her skin as he reached for the