Surrender To Love. Rosemary Rogers

slept so late into the day that she missed both breakfast and lunch before I decided to wake her,” Harriet continued.

      With a grateful smile for Lord Charles that excluded her tormentor, Alexa had begun to take tiny nibbles from the mountains of food that had been set before her. Fresh pineapple, mango and papaya topped with thick cream had always tasted delicious before; but now she hardly tasted anything at all; eating only because it saved her from having to engage in conversation or look in his direction. What a detestable, despicable man he was, this “Cousin” Nicholas that Lord Charles seemed to admire so much. It was quite apparent, for all his surface playacting, that he was by no means a gentleman and was obviously unused to dealings with ladies. A gentleman would have acted as if nothing had happened—and of course, thanks to her, nothing had taken place between them, Alexa reminded herself. She had sent him away, hadn’t she? And had decided to forget everything that had happened last night, had quite succeeded in doing so, until now. Why didn’t he go away? Or—a thought alarming enough to cause her heart to pound—what did he hope to achieve by playing cat-and-mouse with her?

      “Is everything to your satisfaction, Miss Howard?”

      Lifting her head, with a mixture of defiance and bravado arming her, Alexa managed to produce a brilliant smile for Lord Charles. “It was exactly what I had been craving all evening, and I do thank you for your kindness and consideration.”

      He sent her a relieved smile in return. She had been so silent for the past few minutes that he had begun to wonder uncomfortably whether she had been offended in some way, perhaps by his introducing his cousin without first requesting permission to do so. And then, of course, Nicholas tended to be rather overwhelming when one met him for the first time. Sheltered young ladies especially could not be used to the kind of man who disdained what he referred to as “silly parlor games”; usually with a dangerous glint in those strange eyes of his that boded no good. But on this occasion Nicholas had laughingly promised to either behave himself or take himself off as soon as he felt it a strain to do so. To sheathe his claws, in fact.

      “You won’t use that certain tone of voice on her, will you? She’s quite young and has been very sheltered. Never even been home to England, so I understand, even though she was born there. And this is her first ball—celebrating her eighteenth birthday, Mrs. Mackenzie told me. She’s really quite different, you know.”

      “My dear Charles! Why on earth should I take the trouble to—sink my claws in her, did you say? Into some guileless little thing who probably won’t even recognize sarcasm if it’s directed at her? Believe me, I don’t bother to waste my time on giggling young innocents. I’ve lived long enough to discover that only women present a challenge worth taking up.”

      Sometimes—perhaps most of the time—Charles didn’t understand Nicholas at all, even though they had become companions and even friends of a sort. Different countries, vastly different backgrounds—for all that the same blood ran in their veins, and for all that Nicholas was well traveled and had been in Europe several times as well as to China. The real difference between them was that Charles was truly civilized—innately polite—whereas Nicholas was well mannered only when it suited him and did not feel himself bound in the least by either custom or convention. But tonight at least he seemed to be comparatively well behaved, Lord Charles noted with a feeling of relief. Why, he was actually being obliging enough to engage the older Miss Howard in quite an animated conversation, which was unusual for Nicholas.

      Seizing his chance, Lord Charles asked in a low voice, “Would you consider me too presumptuous if I were to beg for the honor of another dance? That is, if you have not already promised them all…”

      Without really wanting to listen, Alexa had not been able to help overhearing some of the conversation between Aunt Harriet and Señor de la Guerra. Something to do with growing coffee and the way the berries had to be processed before they could be shipped. Hypocrite. Viper! What was he really up to?

      Pushing her thoughts aside as decisively as she pushed away the gold-trimmed plate before her, Alexa decided to concentrate all of her attention upon Lord Charles while she ignored his so-called distant “cousin.”

      “Oh! And now you are going to think poorly of me, and my aunt will scold and say I have disgraced her; but do you know that I cannot remember if I promised this dance to anyone or not?”

      How adorable she was, and how frank and open in contrast to the practiced debutantes he was used to who had been trained to keep careful tally. And of course she was probably quite overwhelmed by the attention he was paying her, the darling innocent that she was.

      “If you do not see any man with a happily gloating look upon his face who is hurrying in this direction—then? After all, Miss Howard, no real gentleman would allow himself to be even a minute or two late in claiming his dance, and you would be quite within the bounds of propriety if you were to accept the offer of another gentleman under such circumstances.”

      “Are you teasing me or is it really permissible?” Alexa risked a hasty glance at her aunt who, surprisingly, seemed quite engrossed in whatever subject she was expounding upon. She should not agree to dance too many times with the same gentleman because it would only serve to make her appear conspicuous—how many times had Aunt Harriet told her so? And yet she needed to escape from the almost palpably physical presence of the man whose hard green eyes suddenly seemed in one flashing look to see right through her—through everything she wore to the warm flesh he had touched so intimately last night and with such sureness that he had, for a few moments, made her feel as if everything he was doing was both natural and right. Oh God! To think how close she had come to utter degradation!

      “Word of honor, Miss Howard. There are some things I would never tease about, I assure you.”

      Alexa said hastily and almost mechanically as she sternly pushed aside her wild thoughts, “It is just that I would not want to be considered fast by everyone else, you understand.”

      “How could anyone possibly think such a thing of you? Miss Howard, I…” Lord Charles was forced to cut himself short when a rather breathless young man in military uniform came up at that moment to claim his dance, full of profuse apologies for his tardiness.

      Unable to hide his disappointment, Charles was quite aware of his cousin’s cat-eyed look; but he pretended to ignore it, even when Nicholas said lazily: “How difficult it must be to have to play chaperone, or dueña as we say in Spanish, to such an attractive young woman. I have two younger sisters myself, and my poor mother is forever worrying about them and nagging, which doesn’t help. But perhaps customs here are not quite as strictly rigid? I have tried to persuade my mother that even well-brought-up young girls should be permitted a certain degree of freedom, so that they do not feel stifled by the restrictions that they are surrounded by—although to no avail so far, I must admit!”

      When he shrugged, one could almost sense the ripple of muscles under skin beneath the closely fitting jacket he wore. And Harriet was immediately horrified at herself for even thinking such a thing. It had been more years than she cared to remember since she had noticed anything about a man beyond his manners, his clothes and his outward appearance. She must be on the verge of senility!

      “Even in this remote part of the world we try to conform to what is proper and safe when it comes to the upbringing of a young lady,” Harriet heard herself say rather stiltedly. “I have had the charge of my niece’s education for the most part, and I think I have taught her what I consider most important of all—the difference between right and wrong. At any rate, she has seldom disappointed me so far.”

      “And I have heard nothing but the most flattering comments on both her appearance and her manners,” Lord Charles interjected emphatically, deliberately ignoring his cousin’s cynical look. Damn Nicholas and his infernal air of detachment anyway; and let him make his sly assignations with the kind of experienced woman he preferred. But as for himself, he preferred the challenge of innocence that was so rarely to be found—a girl who was untouched and natural and still on the threshold of womanhood, full of ideals and expectations. Like Alexandra Howard. Alexa, her aunt had called her. And although he could only say her name in his mind for the moment, he hoped