Jacquie D’Alessandro - Whirlwind Affair

She hesitated, her serious gaze roaming his face as if looking for something. After several seconds, she nodded. "I'll try."

They each played their parts, most often with her several notes behind him. Instead of improving as the song went on, however, it seemed their efforts yielded worse results. By the final verse, their voices were raised in jarring harmony:

The sunlight reflected her features so fair

As she waited and wondered, to see if he’d dare.

And he did not disappoint his lovely young miss,

For upon her sweet lips he did bestow a sweet kiss.

The final discordant note lingered, then faded into silence. With laughter rumbling in his throat, Robert shook his head and turned toward her. "Egad, that was stupendously awful."

"Awful, indeed," she agreed in a somewhat breathless voice. "I don't believe I played one correct note. And I am forced to admit you were correct."

"Of course I was. About what?"

"You, sir, are indeed tone-deaf."

An oh-so-brief, yet this time unmistakable, spark of mischief gleamed in her eyes and his pulse jumped. A tingle started in the region of his heart, and zoomed down to his… feet.

He pulled himself together and smiled. "And you, madam, cannot play worth a jot." He rubbed his hands together, then offered forth his most evil chuckle. "I cannot wait for us to entertain the family with this song."

"They'll run from the room screaming."

"Then we shall simply have to play and sing louder."

The slightest twitch touched one corner of her mouth, and he stared at her, his heart thumping at twice its normal rate. His gaze lowered to those incredibly full lips, and another tingle shot through him, this one settling directly in his groin. His attention riveted at the beguiling dimple gracing her chin, and his thumb itched to trace the shallow indentation.

Drawing in a much-needed breath, his head filled with her delicate scent, shooting heated awareness through him. She smelled lovely. Like some sort of flower, but not one familiar to him. He inhaled again, straining to catch the elusive fragrance, somehow resisting the growing urge to lean forward and simply bury his face in her enticing neck.

She blinked several times, then her expression went blank as if she'd drawn a curtain, and she abruptly stood. Crossing to the fireplace, she stared into the flames.

He remained seated, pulling in several unflowery-scented deep breaths, and mentally berated himself. Not well done at all, you nitwit. Finally get her to give you a tiny twitch of the lips, then what do you do? Stare at her mouth as if you're starving and she were a meat pie. Then sniff at her as if you 're a hound and she were a lamb chop.

Bloody hell, where had his finesse disappeared to? Not to mention his decency. Good God, he'd never before considered himself a cad, but who else but a cad would feel lustful urges for a grieving widow? And as much as he hated to admit it, he could not deny that what he'd experienced was lust. Certainly he was familiar enough with the feeling to recognize it when he felt it. Yet the smacked-in-the-head sensation this woman gave him was definitely unfamiliar territory.

So, perhaps it wasn't lust. Perhaps he'd merely been… charmed. And… pleased to see the beginnings of a smile from her. The poor woman needed to laugh. Hadn't Lady Gaddlestone said as much? And even if she hadn't, a blind person could see Mrs. Brown needed a bit of fun.

He just hadn't planned that the merest hint of a grin from her would impact him like a punch to the heart.

Allie sat at the long, mahogany dining-room table, trying to do justice to the delicious meal of creamed peas and savory beef, but her thoughts were too jumbled to concentrate on her dinner. Peeking up from under her lashes, she covertly observed the man sitting across from her.

Lord Robert was engrossed in cutting his meat. Her gaze settled on his hands, holding his silver cutlery. Large, long-fingered, strong-looking hands. She'd noticed them when they'd played the piano. They looked like they belonged to someone accustomed to the outdoors rather than a gentleman of leisure.

Warmth suffused her cheeks as she recalled their impromptu duet. She'd been unable to resist his teasing invitation, yet she'd allowed herself to get far too carried away, singing with such abandon. But it had been so long since she'd done something silly. For just a moment, exhilaration had filled her and she'd forgotten whom she was with.

A charming, handsome man. A man she barely knew. A man who laughed easily, but whose gaiety did not always reach his eyes… eyes she recognized as guarding secrets. A man who'd looked at her in a way that made her heart pound.

Just like David.

David and Lord Robert were so obviously cast from the same mold. How could she have forgotten herself that way? But even as she asked herself the question, the answer came to her. Because David never let you play the pianoforte. And he never would have encouraged you to sing. Indeed, David had laughingly told her she sounded like a frog in the meadow, and she could not disagree with him. Still, her family had not minded, and except for her mother, they were all dreadful singers. Yet that had not stopped them from singing together every Tuesday evening, which they'd designated as "music night." David had hated music night, and after they'd married, he'd found any number of reasons to tempt her to stay home on Tuesdays. Most often he'd bring her to their bed and-

She sliced off the thought and ruthlessly buried it. She'd enjoyed the marriage bed, at least in the beginning, but that part of her life was over. Scooping up a forkful of peas, she again peeked at Lord Robert. And discovered his dark blue gaze upon her.

"Is the meal to your liking?" he asked.

Hoping she didn't appear flustered, she said, "Yes, thank you."

"I seem to recall Elizabeth mentioning you have a brother and sister?"

"Two brothers and a sister. All younger." A wave of love washed over her. "The boys are twins, and we call them the identical devils."

"How old are they?"

"Sixteen. My sister will turn twenty this month." A wistful sigh escaped her. "I miss them very much. Miss the noise and happy chaos that always reigned at our house. It's been… too long since I saw them."

He sipped his wine and nodded. "I understand. Although I keep my own rooms here in town, I cannot go too long without seeing my family. They occasionally drive me mad, especially Caroline, but they are also my greatest source of joy. And if it's noise and chaos you want, you'll get more than you ever hoped for at Bradford Hall."

She swallowed to relieve her tight throat. "I'm looking forward to it."

He looked toward the ceiling and shook his head. "You may change your mind once you arrive. Indeed, I can just picture what's happening there right now. Austin is glowering and pacing the floor, his hair standing up at odd angles due to his ramming his hands through it, demanding every eight seconds to know when Elizabeth is going to give birth. Caroline is telling her two-year-old daughter Emily to stop chasing the kittens, and Emily is completely ignoring her and looking to her father Miles, who, with a sly wink, will encourage her to continue.

"My brother William, his wife Claudine, and their daughter Josette are drawing pictures, which won't bode well for William, for he is a miserable artist. And my mother has undoubtedly taken Austin and Elizabeth 's son James out into the garden where his chubby little hands will decapitate all her best roses for his 'mummy' while his grandmother beams at him." He made a comical face. "Humph. Mother used to fly into the boughs when Austin, William, and I so much as glanced at her roses."