He’s promised to help her catch the man that she wants, but can she trust him?
He leaned close. “You know, the best way to snag a man is to make him realize you are a prize catch. Especially a man like Fernbridge who enjoys the hunt. You are going about this the wrong way, darling. If you seem too readily available, he’s less apt to be interested.”
She frowned. What was he saying? That she could win Fernbridge’s eye if he thought someone else was also vying for her hand? Surely, Ralston didn’t mean he was willing to play the role of a gallant suitor to make Fernbridge more interested. “Are you offering to play the faux competition?”
Ralston cringed as if the idea were distasteful; then a slow smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Why not? It might be entertaining. Yes, I’ll sacrifice myself for the good of the cause.”
“Sacrifice? I always thought you a smooth talker. Now I’m wondering what draws women to you like bees to a single flower in a field of dried grass.”
As they reached the dance floor, he set his warm hand to her back and pulled her close. As he spun her into the flow of those moving in tandem to the music, he whispered, “It’s not the way I talk to a woman, darling. It’s something much more wicked.”