“Magnus,” she said softly. To relieve him of his worry.
He pivoted swiftly.
Relief flashed across his features. He approached her slowly. “Why are you standing in a dark alcove like a statue of... Aphrodite?”
“Aphrodite, is it? My goodness. I wished I’d thought to say ‘Aphrodite’ when Mrs. Pariseau was quizzing us about statues. That’s better than a fountain.”
He didn’t reply. He scrutinized her instead.
“Alexandra. Is aught amiss?”
“No,” she lied. “Just... admiring the view.”
He made a show of looking behind him. “Given that I’m currently the view, I’m skeptical.”
With a blinding epiphany she realized that hewasher favorite view. She was momentarily struck dumb as a shy child.
The implications of this frightened her.
She stared at him for all the world like a looby for an instant before she rallied.
“Well, considering I can also seemyselfin the silver buttons of your waistcoat...”
He had one dimple that came into view when he smiled and it was bloody delightful.
She tried to smile, too, but she could not quite get the corners of her mouth to commit to it.
“You should wear that plum-colored waistcoat often,” she said.
Which is when she realized she was, indeed, a trifle drunk. As a result, the boundaries of her control had gone dangerously porous. Thoughts that would in other circumstances never graduate into spoken words were launching into the world.
He glanced down at his waistcoat, then back at her, puzzled.
“Because it makes your eyes seem very blue, and very bright. Almost as bright as your buttons.”
Charmingly flustered, he looked down again. When he looked back up at her, his expression was carefully composed and uncertain.
Did no one ever compliment him? She feltirrationally furious at this oversight on the part of the world. He was bloody magnificent.
“I can see your eyes all the way across the room. Like a beacon. When you’re watching me and you don’t think I’m noticing.”
Was she brazenly flirting with her husband? Champagne was a menace.
Magnus had goneverystill. But he was watchful. Wary. No doubt a bit like that boy he’d been who’d always expected to be hurt.
Oh, it slashed her, to see it. And yet she exulted, too. It was better than his cool control.
This uncertain Magnus was one she was positive no one else ever saw.
Finally his smile was slight, speculative.
“So why are you hiding?” he finally asked bluntly.
She gave what she hoped was an insouciant laugh. “What makes you think I’m hiding?”
He snorted softly.
They were quiet a moment.