His Wicked Charm. Candace Camp

there was something different about her. Con suspected that his sister Kyria had something to do with that. Lilah’s red-gold hair was not pulled back into its usual neat twist that stopped just short of severe. Nor was her blue dress the plain pastel frock she normally wore.

      Her gown was a rich vivid blue that accentuated the color of her eyes, with a scoop neckline and a fall of soft lace at the sleeves, leaving much of her arms bare. She had beautiful arms. And her hair, that bright blend of red and gold that Con had never seen on anyone else, was swept up into a soft roll, with a small strand on either side curling down beside her ears in a way that made a man’s fingers itch to touch it.

      Lilah’s gaze had been on the bride and groom, but now she glanced over at Con. He sent her a friendly wink, and she frowned. Obviously he had again earned her disapproval. With Lilah, that was easily done. It was one of the many reasons it was wise to avoid her.

      But then, wisdom had never been Con’s guiding principle.

CHAPTER TWO

      THE CELEBRATION AFTER the wedding was held at Kyria’s house, and it was easy to see Kyria’s touch. Great swaths of white satin and silver netting were draped artistically about the ballroom, glowing in the warm light of the wall sconces, and the air was perfumed with the scent of hundreds of white roses, creating a richly romantic backdrop. In the garden, tiny lanterns lined the pathways and dotted the branches.

      A small orchestra was playing at one end of the room, the dance floor empty as Alex took Sabrina out for their first dance as a married couple. Lilah stood with the others, watching them.

      Sabrina gazed up at her groom with such love that it almost made Lilah’s chest hurt. Lilah tried to imagine what it must be like to feel so much for another person that one’s face simply shone with it. Lilah had some difficulty with the notion. She herself did not lack for suitors, many of them quite eligible men, but she had never felt even a tingle of such feeling.

      Alex clearly was just as much in love as Sabrina. Lilah had watched him earlier as Sabrina came down the aisle, his face alight with love. She had glanced at Con then, wondering what he felt on this occasion. It must be strange to lose one’s twin to marriage. Irritating as Con was, Lilah had felt a little pang of sympathy for him.

      But then Con had flashed that cocky grin at her and winked. In the middle of a wedding. It was typical of the man. She didn’t know why she bothered to feel sympathy for him. Constantine Moreland never took anything seriously. Well, almost never—Lilah had seen his face two months ago when Alex was kidnapped, and Con’s face then had been downright frightening.

      When the stately first waltz ended, other couples joined the newlyweds on the dance floor. Lilah glanced around, certain she would see Con among the dancers. She wondered who he would choose as his partner. He had never seemed to favor any particular girl with his attentions. He had even danced with her one time.

      Though he would never do so again, no doubt. Lilah blushed at that memory. Con thought her prudish for the way she had reacted when he asked her to walk in the garden with him after their dance. Lilah knew now that she had been impulsive and silly; she had only recently come out, and her greenness had showed. Not that she had been wrong—a man didn’t ask a young girl to walk in the garden at a party unless his intentions were less than virtuous. But she had learned since then how to turn aside such a man without resorting to anything so overwrought as a slap.

      Lilah scowled down at her glove, needlessly fussing with the button. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of Alex’s cousins making his way toward her. Albert had apparently taken a liking to Lilah; he had dogged her footsteps all day. She’d managed to slip away each time, but she had the gloomy suspicion she wouldn’t be able to dodge him this time. She could hardly be impolite to one of the Moreland family, but, having danced with Cousin Albert at the engagement party, Lilah knew that taking to the floor with him would not only be a dreadful bore but also a very real danger to her toes.

      Hoping he had not realized she’d spotted him, Lilah started to turn away. Just at that moment, a man behind her said, “Miss Holcutt. Would you care to dance?”

      “Con!” She whirled. “Oh, thank God.”

      His green eyes twinkled. “What an unexpectedly enthusiastic response. I daresay you must have seen Cousin Albert setting his course.”

      “Yes.” There was no need to pretend politeness where Con was concerned.

      She took his arm and Con whisked her away to the dance floor, pulling her to him and seamlessly joining the other dancers. Lilah had forgotten what it was like to dance with Con—so quick and light, his hand firm on her waist, holding her a trifle closer than was appropriate. It was easy to match his steps, to follow the guide of his hand. He was an expert dancer, and one had only to let go and trust him.

      She could not keep from smiling up at him. It was better not to encourage Con—he was already too full of himself—and she was always careful not to do anything that would draw attention, but right now she was enjoying herself too much to care.

      When the music ended, Lilah was flushed and breathless, surging with energy. She would have liked to dance again, but of course, that would never do; even Con would know better than that. Whipping open her delicate ivory-and-lace fan, she tried to cool her overheated face. Con led her toward the open windows, snagging two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handing her one.

      Lilah rarely drank wine of any sort, but she was too thirsty not to take a great gulp of it. It fizzed in her mouth, tingling and cool, yet with its own delicious sting as well, and she drank the rest of it. Con’s eyebrows shot up.

      “Careful. I can’t have you getting foxed on me.” He plucked the empty glass from her hand and set it aside.

      “I won’t. It’s just so hot in here.”

      Con glanced toward the French doors, standing open to the terrace, then back to her. “Dare I suggest we step outside? I assure you I won’t try to lure you into the garden this time.”

      Lilah cast him a speaking glance and took his arm, turning toward the open doors. “One can only wonder why you did so the first time, considering that you think I’m such a prig.”

      He chuckled and took a sip from his glass. “I am, as you have pointed out, entirely too impulsive.”

      “That’s no answer.” But Lilah was feeling too companionable at the moment to pursue the subject. Her customary annoyance with Con had vanished with the waltz.

      They strolled the length of the terrace, now and then passing another couple doing the same. Lilah lifted her flushed face to the cool night air. She began to hum the waltz beneath her breath, wishing she could dance along the terrace. She smiled to herself at the idea of causing such a commotion. Con’s jaw would drop. She had to press her lips together tightly to hold back a giggle.

      Perhaps she shouldn’t have gulped down that glass of champagne. It wasn’t like her. Or perhaps it had been the dance, whirling around the room in Con Moreland’s arms. That, too, had been unlike her. Mostly likely it was because she was with Con; there was something about him that encouraged misbehavior.

      He said inappropriate things that made her laugh. His smile, his wink, that twinkle in his eye just before he did or said something outrageous, enticed one to go along with him. If he had been a woman, people would have termed him a temptress. She wasn’t sure what one called such a man. Dangerous came to mind.

      She glanced up at Con, so close beside her she could feel the warmth of his body. As if sensing her gaze, he turned his head. With only the mellow light streaming from the windows of the ballroom behind them, Con’s face was half-shadowed, his eyes dark. But the dimness could not hide how handsome he was—the firm chin and square jaw, the way his mouth curved up slightly, as if he was about to break into a grin.

      It was odd how much he looked like his twin, yet she had never felt a twinge of attraction to Alex. When she first met Con’s brother, she had realized almost immediately that he was not Con. There had been no spark running along her