A sharp pang of concern or perhaps guilt stabbed her. She still had no idea where Heloise was, and India certainly shouldn’t be having a wonderful time while the dear woman was missing. It had occurred to her more and more in recent days that perhaps Heloise was missing because she wished to be missing. Which made no sense at all, but then, the more India thought about it, the more Heloise’s behavior before she’d left London struck her as unusual. If this was one of India’s detective stories, there would be all sorts of clues. Regardless, they would pick up their search tomorrow and Heloise would never begrudge her this one night.

It truly was a remarkable evening. She scarcely recognized herself in the mirror and danced every dance, accompanied by often interesting conversation and a surprising amount of laughter. It was nothing short of magic.

In no time at all, the last dance was announced and once again she was in Derek’s arms.

“Has your first ball been all you ever dreamed it would be?” He gazed down at her.

“Goodness, Derek, I have never dreamed of attending a ball,” she said with a casual shrug. “However, I must say the evening fulfilled any expectations I might ever have had.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad I was able to share it with you.”

“As am I.” She gazed up at him. “I wish...”

“A wish?” His brow rose. “From the woman who has nothing she would wish for?”

“Apparently, a great deal has changed since I said that.” She paused. “I am not the same woman who started out on this quest.”

“That’s what quests are for. The journey is often more important than the destination.”

“I feel I have changed a great deal.”

“Oh, not entirely.”

“No?” She stared up at him. “I would think you of all people would be pleased.”

“I watched you this morning, helping my mother. You directed the arranging of furniture, of decorations, of flowers. You managed the kitchen staff and put the servers hired for tonight through their paces. You were a general deploying troops, the epitome of efficiency and organization. It was like watching a maestro conduct an orchestra.” He shook his head, an admiring smile on his lips. “You had this house functioning like a fine Swiss watch.”

“I am nothing if not efficient and well organized,” she said primly.

“In that respect you haven’t changed, nor should you. But you have emerged, I think. Like a butterfly from a cocoon.” He studied her curiously. “You have allowed yourself to...to breathe, India.”

“Yes, I believe I have at that.” She thought for a moment. “It’s quite, well, freeing to discover one doesn’t have to always be right.”

“I can imagine.” He smiled and pulled her closer. “But you haven’t told me your wish.”

“It’s my understanding that wishes don’t come true if you tell them.”

His gaze searched hers. “Will you tell me if it comes true?”

“Oh, I suspect you of all people will know.” She smiled up at him and her heart swelled.

How strange to realize that all she’d never thought was possible, never cared about really, never concerned herself with might well be possible, after all. Even as a child, India knew better than to believe in fairy tales of princesses and dashing heroes and magic. Or silly stories of romance and true love and living happily together forever.

Tonight, for the first time in her life, she believed.


CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


WHEN INDIA PRENDERGAST was determined to do something, she would let nothing stand in her way. In that, at least, she had not changed. Even if the something in her way was her own trepidation and yes, cowardice.

At least she finally had a genuine use for the peach negligee and matching wrapper, a garment clearly designed for seduction and sin. One would think wearing a lace-trimmed weapon of carnal desire would give a woman set on seduction a fair amount of confidence, and indeed it did. Even if it was currently hidden under the bulky comforter she had wrapped around herself for the walk from her room to Derek’s. Apparently, it took more than resolve and determination to completely change from proper, responsible spinster to harlot, even in Paris.

She squared her shoulders, drew a calming breath and knocked on Derek’s door. And realized she had no idea how to properly seduce a man, although perhaps properly was not the right word.

After a few seconds—or an eternity—the door opened.

Clad in his red dressing gown thrown over striped silken pajamas, Derek stared in obvious confusion. She’d thought he had looked handsome and dashing and very nearly perfect earlier in his formal evening wear but now with his hair rumpled and the sash of his dressing gown loosely tied, he was improper and imperfect and nothing short of irresistible. Her heart raced.

He narrowed his gaze as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “India, is something wrong?”

“No, nothing at all.” She shook her head.

“Then, why are you here?” he said slowly.

“Why?” She had rehearsed what she intended to say but apparently, when confronted with a man obviously fresh from his bed and knowing where this could—where she wanted this to lead, words failed her. “It’s difficult to say exactly.”

“What?” He shook his head in confusion.

Come now, India Prendergast, a firm voice in the back of her head said. If this is what you want, and you do, tell the man.

“Very well.” She raised her chin. “I should like to...to be seduced. Or to seduce you, if you prefer. Although admittedly, I have no experience—”

“Good God, India.” He grabbed her arm and yanked her into his room. “Get in here.” Obviously, the man was eager to begin. “Unless you wish to announce your intentions to the entire house.” Or not.

She nodded. “That might be best.”

He shut the door behind him. “Surely, I didn’t hear you correctly. What are you really doing here?” His gaze flicked over her. “And why are you wearing half the bed?”

“Derek.” She braced herself. “Tonight I made a wish, and only you can make the wish come true.”

“Bloody hell, India!” His eyes widened in sheer horror. “What did you wish for?”

“I wished for the night to never end.”

He stared for an endless moment. She suspected it would not be in the spirit of seduction to shift nervously from foot to foot yet it was terribly difficult not to do so.

“Oh no.” He took a step backward. “This is some sort of trick, isn’t it?”

“No, as I said—it’s a seduction. Or an attempted seduction. Although it doesn’t seem to be going very well.” She pulled the coverlet tighter around her. “I did think with your reputation, you would understand and be, well, amenable to the idea.” Her gaze drifted downward, and she cleared her throat. “Although I can see you’re not unaffected by my arrival.”

“Damnation.” It was as much a groan as a word. Derek stalked across the room, grabbed a pillow and held it in front of him. “I’d have to be dead to be unaffected!”

“Precisely my intent. Well, not that you be dead, of course, but—”

“Your meaning was clear, and I congratulate you on your success. In spite of that thing you have wrapped around yourself, you are most...” His expression twisted as if he couldn’t bear to say the words. “Provocative.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, damn it all, India!” He uttered an odd sort of painful laugh. “With your hair...like that.” He waved with his free hand. “All unrestrained and floating about your shoulders, and that tantalizing glimpse of lace, the flush on your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes...” He glared. “A man can only take so much, you know!”

“Really?” She studied him thoughtfully. Odd that his discomfort eased her nerves. Perhaps this was one of those shoe-on-the-other-foot kind of things. After all, Derek had no doubt seduced a fair number of willing ladies. This might not be so difficult, after all. “You should know I have never done this before.”

Obviously, she had stunned him into silence.

“Seduced a man, that is.”

“Yes, I knew what you meant!”

“Or allowed a man to seduce me. Although I suppose it really doesn’t matter, who seduces whom,” she said thoughtfully. “At some point, I assume the seduction will be mutual.”

“What?” The man could barely croak out the word.

“Carpe diem, remember? This is one of those unexpected opportunities, and I intend to seize it.”

“If I recall, that was in reference to sightseeing. Not—” he waved at her “—whatever this is.”

“Goodness, Derek.” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “I believe I have explained this quite thoroughly. Or at least as thoroughly as was necessary. Indeed, I have been painfully obvious.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you have never done this before, and yet here you are.”

“Of course I have never done this. I am not a trollop. I had never kissed a man before you, either.”

“Never?” He stared at her.

“No, never.” She shrugged. “The opportunity never arose.”

“And Sir Martin never—”

“Good Lord, no!”

“Then I’m the first man you ever kissed?”

“We’ve established that.”

“Oh, well, hmm.” He nodded thoughtfully. “That is interesting.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She summoned her courage and let the coverlet fall to the floor. “Shall we?”

His gaze traveled over her from the lace ruffles cascading down the front of the wrapper to the tips of her slippers. Only the fact that between the negligee and the robe there were two layers of the translucent fabric kept her from being completely exposed. But she’d studied herself in the mirror before leaving her room and knew full well there were peaks and shadows barely concealed by the gossamer material. Given the look in his eyes, and his tightened grip on the pillow, he had clearly noticed.