Master of Her Virtue - By Miranda Lee Page 0,16

hers; loved the fantasy she began fashioning in her head about why he would be keeping her by his side all the time. They weren’t lovers yet, she decided in her imagination. But they would be before this night was over. Once the guests went home, he would draw her with him into his bedroom where he would slowly undress her and...

‘Violet?’

She blinked at the sound of his voice, then lifted her glazed eyes to his.

‘Food,’ he said, and nodded towards a waiter who was waiting patiently next to her with a tray of canapés, small puff pastry tarts with a pale creamy filling which looked and smelled delicious.

Violet hesitated. She was hungry, but to eat she had to let go Leo’s hand since she had a glass of champagne in her other.

‘No, thank you,’ she said politely. All to no avail; Leo extracted his hand from hers anyway, reaching to take two canapés.

‘Come now, my darling, this is not a night for silly dieting. Be a good girl and eat up.’ And he popped one of the canapés into her startled mouth.

It was delicious. And so was his calling her his darling.

Logic dictated the term of endearment was just part of the protective cover she was supplying for Leo, but Violet had never been called darling by any man before, let alone a man as handsome and charismatic as Leo. It sent a thrilling buzz running right through her. How wonderful it would be to be his darling for real!

But such a thing happening was on a par with her earlier fantasy, she conceded after a few seconds of wildly vicarious pleasure. Leo was way out of her league. But one could dream, couldn’t one? And it was great fun, pretending to be his love interest for the night.

Her eyes sparkled up at him as she washed the canapé down with a mouthful of champagne.

‘Thank you, darling,’ she said, chuffed at how convincing she sounded. And how sophisticated. Who would have believed when she came here tonight that within a couple of hours she would have conquered her nerves so splendidly?

Joy was going to be so surprised.

Violet certainly was.

CHAPTER SIX

OH DEAR, LEO THOUGHT, not having missed the slight slurring in Violet’s voice just now. If he were any judge—and he liked to think he was by the age of forty—Violet was well on the way to getting sloshed, and it was only ten-thirty. Admittedly, she’d been knocking back the champagne ever since she’d arrived. His fault, to a degree. She’d seemed awfully tense at first so he’d topped her glass up a few times in an effort to get her to relax.

Henry would not be pleased with him if he got Violet blind drunk. Not pleased at all.

Some dancing music started up just then, which was opportune. A little light exercise, along with no more bubbly for a while, was what Violet needed. Some more food as well. Henry was planning to serve a buffet supper around eleven which wasn’t too far off. Leo decided to keep Violet on the move till then, by which time the effect of the alcohol would have diffused somewhat.

‘Please excuse us, folks,’ he said to the group of people they were currently with, ‘but that’s dancing music I’m hearing inside and I just love to dance.’ So saying, he took the glass out of Violet’s hand, depositing it on a nearby table before cupping her elbow and steering her quite forcefully inside.

‘But...but... But I can’t dance!’ she spluttered as they arrived at the area of the living room which Leo himself had cleared for dancing earlier that day.

Leo could not believe his ears. ‘What do you mean, you can’t dance? All girls can dance.’

‘Well, I can’t,’ she said, sounding half-embarrassed, half-defiant.

‘In that case, it’s high time you learned.’

‘But no one else is dancing,’ she said, her eyes registering panic as they darted around the spacious room. The guests who were inside were all sitting down, except for the group gathered around the bar.

‘Then we’ll be the first, won’t we?’ he pronounced. Leo had found that people at parties were a bit like sheep. If one couple hit the dance floor, more soon followed.

‘And before you make some other pathetic excuse,’ he continued sternly, ‘even a moron can do the two-foot shuffle. Now, put your arms up around my neck.’

She did as ordered, though anyone would think he’d asked her to wrap herself around an electric fence by the look on her face. She