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Chapter 4 - Masks and glances

The ballroom blazed with light and laughter, a world away from the quiet heat of Xavier's chamber.

Camilla re-entered on Xavier's arm — not because it was proper, but because he had insisted. His touch was barely there, a feather-light guide at her elbow, yet every nerve in her body was aware of it.

No one noticed the faint flush in her cheeks or the way her lips still tingled. The music swelled, and polite conversation swirled around them like ribbons of silk.

Lord Adrian Velenhart stood across the room, deep in conversation with a cluster of chaperones. He looked every inch the charming heir, all smooth smiles and perfect posture. Camilla's stomach tightened. She was here for him — or so everyone believed.

"Try to smile, Camilla," Xavier murmured, leaning in as though to share a harmless observation. To anyone watching, it was nothing unusual. But to her, the heat in his voice curled low in her belly.

"I am smiling," she replied, forcing her lips upward.

"Not at me." His mouth quirked, the briefest shadow of a grin. "Not yet."

A passing gentleman offered Xavier a drink, which he accepted without breaking eye contact with her. The sip he took was slow, deliberate, as though he wanted her to notice the movement of his mouth. She did.

They moved through the crowd in the slow orbit of social obligation — pausing for introductions, exchanging meaningless pleasantries. Yet every time she turned, there he was, somewhere in the room, watching her like she was the only thing worth noticing.

At one point, their paths crossed near the grand staircase.

"You left my room too quickly," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

She inhaled sharply, her fan snapping open in a practiced gesture meant to hide the heat rising in her face. "Your mother nearly caught us."

He leaned slightly closer, the scent of him — warm spice and something darker — wrapping around her. "Nearly."

Her pulse skipped.

Before she could reply, a lady in lavender swept up, addressing Xavier with a bright smile. "Lord Xavier, will you be joining the card table later?"

"Perhaps," he said easily, though his gaze flickered back to Camilla for the briefest second — a silent promise.

The music shifted to a waltz. Adrian appeared at Camilla's side, bowing slightly. "Miss Fairbourne, may I have this dance?"

She placed her gloved hand in his, forcing the smile she'd worn since she was a girl. But as Adrian led her onto the floor, her eyes sought Xavier's across the room.

He was leaning against the wall, drink in hand, watching her with that same unshakable intensity.

And in that moment, Camilla knew — the next time she found herself alone with him, she wouldn't leave so quickly.

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