Grace stopped at the steps and looked up at the open door as the noise of the party spilled down the steps and into the street.  Generally, she was good in social settings, but this time she had come for something specific; she had an end goal, and Grace would not be able to relax and enjoy the party until she had met her goal.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her A-line skirt, hoping her outfit would pass for a cocktail party since she hadn't had time to change after class. She was still wearing her dark blue suit with a pink camisole underneath, but she had at least checked her hair before she left to make sure that it was still snugly fastened at the nape of her neck.  Grace pushed her glasses further up on her nose straightened her shoulders as she started up the steps.

She wondered how long it would take her to identify her target, the Earl of Pennington. She was eager to talk to him about his estate in Kent.  The Anthropology department at the university she was lecturing at had wanted to set-up an archaeological dig on his property for several years, but there had never been a chance before now to approach the family about it. The dean of her department knew this, so he had contacted the department staff earlier this week about the Earl's presence at a party that evening.  

The department had taken a vote and had decided that Grace was the ideal person to make the initial contact. Their reasoning was that she was a young, pretty, and the one with "the most class" among them.  While part of her was flattered that they thought she was classy, Grace knew the real reason for her nomination was because she had the least to lose as a visiting lecturer. If she was turned down nothing was lost because she would be gone in two months and someone else could try.

Scanning the crowd, Grace studied faces, trying to figure which one was the Earl; guessing that he would be an older gentleman with white hair and a portly belly.  When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned to see the dean of her department, Clive Bennett, standing next to her.

"Grace." He handed her a glass of wine. "This will help you blend in with the rest of the crowd."

Taking the glass, she gave him a strained smile, ignoring the reminder that she was gatecrashing the party. A party which was being given as a thank you for a substantial donation from the Earl to the university and only the heads of the departments were supposed to be in attendance.

"Are you ready?" He looked at her. "You look ready."

"That's something at least." She gave a tense smile.

Clive put his hand in the small of her back and started to direct her towards a group near the large fireplace. "You'll like Bryce, all of the ladies seem to like him,  always have since we were at school together."

Grace stopped dead in her tracks at his statement and looked up at him. "You mean he isn't old?" Grace dug in her heels, forcing Clive to stop as well.

"No, does it matter?"

"Yes!" she almost shouted. She had prepared herself to deal with a kindly looking older grandfather of a man, not a relatively young man that all of the ladies seemed to like.

"Come on Grace. Where is that stern dignity that we have all come to admire?  I swear you're more British than most of the Brits I know." He laughed at his joke as he started to push her forward, but she forced him to stop again.

"If you know him so well, why aren't you doing the 'ask'?" Grace demanded as she was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of dread.

Grace was a tall woman, she was 5'8" in her stocking feet, so she was just about eye level with Clive, and she took the advantage she had by drilling him with her eyes.

Clive just shrugged. "I will, of course, help, but I need the person who will be leading the team to ask with me."

"I'll be leading the team?" Grace swallowed hard at that. "Was this agreed upon by everyone?" She couldn't imagine the rest of the department agreeing to such a thing.

"Well, since you were the only one brave enough to be here tonight, I now appoint you to lead the team." Clive started pushing her forward once again.

She couldn't contain the bright smile that lit her face, her own dig.  All the research and papers produced would have her name on them. It was enough to keep her moving forward, and she still imagined the glory of it when she heard herself being introduced.

"Bryce, this is Dr. Grace Winston. Grace, this is Bryce Stevens, the Earl of Pennington." Clive pushed her forward.

Grace held out her hand, her smile still bright as she looked up at the man who took her hand in greeting.

His hand was large, strong, and warm as it enveloped her smaller one. She was surprised at the callusing she felt there, and she and let her fingers trail the palm of his hand as he pulled away. Grace had wanted to make sure she had really felt them, but she was unprepared for her body's reaction to the simple contact. It was as if she had just touched a live wire. She quickly looked up towards his face to see if he had also felt it.

His eyes were a bright sky blue and frankly assessing. He had one strongly defined and jet black eyebrow raised in question at her odd maneuver, but nothing in his expression said that he had felt the jolt. In fact, he looked slightly bored.

Grace felt herself blush.  Now that she thought about it, the move had seemed oddly intimate, and that must be what he was thinking, that and she was a little crazy for having done it at all.

Clive seemed not to notice the odd moment as he continued to introduce her to the rest of the people in the circle. Grace hardly heard him in her embarrassment, but she must have succeeded in appearing unaffected as she greeted everyone with a hello and a handshake.

"What a quaint accent, where in the states are you from?" the petite blond standing next to the Earl asked as she tucked her arm through his in a proprietary way.

Grace caught the insult and was mystified as to why this woman should feel threatened by her.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," Grace said, purposely misinterpreting the insult as a compliment. "I'm from Georgia. Are you familiar with Georgia ma'am? It is in the southern part of the U.S." Grace gave her sweetest smile as she took her accent up a notch.

She did her best to encompass the whole group, but her gaze landed on the Earl, and she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch at her newly acquired accent.

"Where in Georgia are you from?" he asked, his deep English accented voice sounded just as bored as he appeared so she must have imagined the twitch.

"I'm from Savannah." She placed her still full glass on the tray of a waiter as he passed.

"A lovely city." He nodded.

"You've been to Savannah?" She was genuinely impressed and couldn't keep it from her voice.

"I travel quite a bit."

She was intrigued. He traveled a lot, had calloused hands, and the deepest blue eyes; from which he had managed to keep all expression for the entire time they had been talking. He was a hard man to read.

"Look Mr..." Grace looked over at Clive, and he was in discussion with someone on his other side. "I am not sure what to call you?" She looked back at the Earl.

She heard the woman next to him give a little giggle.

"Please just call me Bryce, Dr. Winston." He gave a polite smile which in no way reached his eyes.

"Please call me Grace, Bryce."

He nodded his head towards hers in affirmation of her statement.

"Bryce..." she began again when Clive stopped her.

"Perhaps the three of us could have lunch tomorrow?"

Grace turned to him, completely taken aback.  It was a completely different tactic than the one on which they had agreed.

"Can we make it breakfast? I have to be back in London by lunch." The Earl asked, unfazed by the sudden invitation.

Clive looked at Grace and she nodded in agreement. "If it's an early breakfast, I have a ten o'clock class."

Clive named a local restaurant and gave the time of eight o'clock.

"Fine," was all Bryce said before he was introduced to someone else.

Clive pulled her away and towards the door.

"You better go.  It appears that we have been caught out, and there is some suspicion as to whether you should be here or not." Clive motioned towards and an older lady who was frowning at her as if trying to place her.

Clive saw her to the door with a pat on the shoulder and a smile. "Tomorrow morning."

Grace looked over her shoulder, her eyes catching sight of Bryce Stevens one last time.

He was the most handsome man she had ever seen.  He was tall at least 6'2", he had broad shoulders, and he wore an immaculate suit like it was a second skin. He looked like money, and he was utterly comfortable commanding the room. His jet black hair had a bit of a wave to it with just a touch of grey at the temples. He had a strong jaw that had a shadow, and even from across the room she could see the blue of his eyes.

At that moment he gave a genuine smile at something the older lady said as she motioned towards Grace by the door.

Grace gasped out loud at the transformation his face made.  He had a dimple in one of the deep clefts in his cheeks, and his very straight, very white, teeth were revealed by a bit of a crooked grin that had a roguish air to it.

Just then he looked up and caught her watching him. This time there was amusement in his eyes as he directed that crooked grin right at her.

Grace felt herself turn bright red as she turned and made a hasty exit, her heart about to come out of her chest. Truly, he was the most handsome and most charismatic man she had ever met. She felt as if the most popular boy in school had noticed her; except he was definitely not a boy.

*******

Bryce couldn't help but laugh when Mrs. Wiley, his host's wife, apologized for the young lady who had crashed the party and presumed to talk to him.

Grace Winston had been so prim and schoolmarm like that he couldn't help but find it amusing that she had crashed a party.   When he looked up and saw her watching him, he had found it amusing all over again. Especially when she had looked like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

He had to admit that he was intrigued.  She had wanted to ask him for something, and she hadn't been about to dance around it either.  He had the distinct impression that she was just going to ask and be done with it, and it was a refreshing thought.

Bryce closed his right hand into a fist, remembering the feel of her fingers as they had lightly trailed over his palm.

He could tell she was caught as off guard as he had been by the action, and it had been one of the most intimate moments in his life, and downright sexy. He had a gut feeling that she was someone worth the investment of a little more of his time.