He was coming for Diana, naturally. Obviously. And she hated him for it. He was a horrid, horrid man. But her heart would not stop pounding. Heat gathered between her breasts. She’d always wondered what it would feel like to stand on one end of a ballroom and watch a handsome, powerful man make his way to her. This was as close as she’d ever come to it, she supposed. Standing at Diana’s side. Imagining. Suddenly anxious, she looked to the floor. Then the ceiling. Then she chided herself for her cowardice and forced herself to look at him. He drew to a halt and bowed, then offered a hand. “May
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