TemptingJuliana Read Online Free PDF Page A

it wasn’t her priority. After all, it was not as though she had a shortage of dance invitations—she danced her feet off at every ball, with or without Griffin in attendance. She had no problem attracting men; the problem was finding one she considered husband material. And Lord Stafford had many shortcomings.
    When the music came to an end, he led her by the hand off the dance floor. “It was a pleasure, my lady.”
    His voice was warm like his eyes, low and smooth as rich chocolate. The very sound of it seemed to weaken her knees. “Thank you,” she said. The musicians struck up a country dance, and as he was still holding her hand, she half expected him to lead her straight back to the dance floor. Instead, he raised her fingers toward his mouth. Then, rather than pucker his lips in the customary salute in the air above her hand, he lowered them to actually touch her glove.
    Scandalous. She could have sworn she felt the kiss through the white silk. A tingly sensation.
    “Thank you,” she repeated more faintly.
    “Thank you ,” he echoed with a smile.
    A smile that looked as dazed as she felt.
    No sooner had he turned to leave than Griffin descended, snapping her back to reality. “Well?” he asked.
    She watched Lord Stafford walk away, shoulders broad beneath his tailcoat. Loose, tousled curls grazed his black velvet collar. Many fashionable men achieved a similar look with pomade and curl papers, but his hair looked naturally tousled. Like he was too busy to bother to control it.
    “He’s too dark,” she said.
    “Pardon?”
    “You know I prefer golden-haired men. And he’s entirely too tall—I felt like a child dancing with him.”
    Griffin looked down on her, both literally and figuratively. “Face it, Juliana—you’re short.”
    As though she hadn’t noticed most of the world towered over her. “He works,” she said. “He has a profession .”
    “And this makes him unacceptable as a husband?”
    “Should I marry him, he wouldn’t have any time for me.” She wanted a grand love, like Alexandra and Tristan’s; she wanted a husband who loved her to distraction. She wanted endless hours spent in passion with the man she decided to marry. And for heaven’s sake, this man couldn’t even find a few minutes to comb his hair properly. “I’m sorry, but he just won’t do.”
    The fact that Lord Stafford’s work was important was hardly a mitigating factor—and the fact that her heart had stuttered when he’d so impertinently kissed her hand had no bearing whatsoever.
    Griffin released a long-suffering sigh. “I shall keep looking.”
    “You do that,” she said, patting his arm and silently wishing him luck. The spice cakes had clearly been a waste. Poor Griffin. “In the meantime, I must speak with Alexandra.”
    She scanned the ballroom in search of her older sister and finally found her talking to Aunt Frances.
    “Who was that you were dancing with?” Alexandra asked as she approached.
    “Lord Stafford.”
    “He’s very handsome.”
    “His hair is too dark.” At Alexandra’s blank look, Juliana shrugged. “Can you come to the Berkeley Square house next Wednesday afternoon?”
    “I expect so. Why?”
    “I need help making clothes for the Foundling Hospital babies.”
    “Your newest project, I take it?” Alexandra’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “What have you got yourself into this time?”
    If only she knew. “Corinna wanted to see the Hospital’s art gallery, but oh, the poor foundlings were heartbreaking. And their mothers.” Just thinking back on the balloting, Juliana wanted to cry. “I must do something to help them.”
    “Of course you must,” Aunt Frances said. “With you, it’s always something.”
    That much was true; Juliana couldn’t deny it. “And what does that make me?” she wondered. “Impulsive? Melodramatic? Judgmental, overwrought, overemotional?” She stopped there, knowing she was all of those and more. Honestly, she could go on and