Not Always a Saint by Mary Jo Putney

that came with a seat in the House of Lords. In some circles, that was more valuable than rubies.
    He repressed a sigh. Estate management could be delegated to capable stewards, but not his political responsibilities. Britain needed reforming in many areas, and it was being driven home to him that he was in a position to make a difference.
    His gaze again shifted to the exit where people were trickling out. Most were probably heading to another entertainment.
    His eyes narrowed. Was that Alexander Randall from the Westerfield Academy? Randall had been a class ahead, but they’d sometimes been confused with each other because of similar height, build, and blond coloring.
    Given the uneven lighting in the drawing room, Daniel wasn’t sure of his identification, but if the man was Randall, he looked a lot happier now than in his student days. He’d planned to enter the army, and Daniel wondered how that had worked out. Kirkland was a classmate of Randall’s and presumably would invite the other man to the promised Westerfield dinner. Daniel looked forward to catching up on the lives of men he’d known when they were all boys.
    Daniel started to turn back to Laurel and Kirkland, then paused, his gaze caught by the profile of a woman standing near the exit, mostly surrounded by men. Her glossy dark hair was knotted up to reveal her graceful neck and the ivory perfection of her features. But there were other lovely women here. As he tried to analyze why she caught his attention, she turned a little, bringing her face into the warm light of a chandelier.
    Coup de foudre. A lightning strike burned through him, paralyzing every fiber of his being. She was truly beautiful, with striking light eyes edged in darkness and a lithe figure that would shatter a stone saint, but what made her stunning was more than physical beauty. She radiated mystery, sensuality—and danger. She looked like original sin—and he craved that promise of reckless passion as intensely as Adam had craved Eve’s apple.
    As his heart hammered in his chest, he knew that he was officially insane. How could the sight of a woman he’d never met affect him so? Then she turned her head farther as if she felt his stare, and their gazes locked.
    Lightning struck again, swift and fierce, setting his heart afire and searing through his veins. She was exactly the sort of flattered and cosseted woman he didn’t need, yet he wanted her.
    Insane .

Chapter 7
    T he woman’s expression shuttered and she spun around to disappear into a group of people leaving the room. Only then did Daniel realize that he’d started forcing his way through the crowd toward her. He’d probably alarmed her with his blatant stare, though with her beauty, he couldn’t be the first man to react in such a way.
    â€œIs something wrong?” Kirkland’s quiet voice said from behind his shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    Daniel took a deep breath and forced himself not to blurt out that he’d momentarily lost all claims to sanity. “I saw a woman who seemed familiar.”
    As he said the words, he realized they were true. Something about the lady was indeed familiar, though he’d be blessed if he knew what it was.
    â€œWhat does she look like?” Laurel asked. “If she’s from the Bristol area, perhaps I’ve met her.”
    â€œShe looked like the kind of woman our parents warned us about,” Daniel said with wry honesty.
    â€œAn interesting description, but not very specific.”
    Doing his best to sound sensible, Daniel said, “Her appearance was rather Welsh. Dark hair and a very fair complexion.”
    Which could describe at least a dozen women in this room. How could one be specific about “I did but see her passing by, And yet I love her till I die”?
    â€œNot as tall as you, Laurel. Mid-twenties, perhaps, and quite staggeringly beautiful. If we’ve met, I