She turned to the refreshment table but her eye caught a lone man leaning on one wall watching her. Her heart caught in her chest to have realized he was staring at her even past the sea of bodies swirling around her.
He moved off the wall, coming to his feet and his height amazed her. He was over a head taller than everyone in the room and his posture while confident had a feline grace as he stepped closer. The tiger mask he had chosen for the evening was a good compliment to him. he both fascinated her and scared her.
His dark costume was well tailored and heightened his dangerous appeal. If he was interested in her, she was intrigued by him. Her reaction to his regard attested to the fact.
She wondered briefly if he was coming to meet her and was amazed at how he was undeterred from his path even as ladies tried to gain his attention. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and her pulse beat so loudly in her ear that it drowned out the music around them. She didn't think she was capable of words if he tried to speak to her.
When he was close enough for her to look into his eyes, he winked at her and brushed past her but not quick enough that she missed the imperceptive tilt of his head.
He wanted her to follow him, but could she really?
She felt breath return to her when his sandalwood scent finally retreated but there was a warmth that bloomed inside her she couldn't explain.
She had met other gentlemen and danced with a few but none had set this attraction to them in her. Even Lord Boxworth, who she had once dreamed of kissing, seemed paltry in comparison to him.
She turned to see him disappear into a corridor and turned back to Lily who seemed lost in conversation with her own dance partner, an equally tall gentleman in a Fox mask. Cecilia wanted to seek advice but she didn't want to disturb the conversation she was having. Her friend was laughing and playing with her hair as she conversed and it wasn't very often her friend found men entertaining.
What could happen if she actually went?
Another worry she had was that he could be an aristocrat. He held himself with an undeniable air of self-importance that only members of nobility seemed to have naturally.
If he recognized her and chose to expose her, she could be ruined. And yet…
The dark promise in his eyes called to the curious side of her that pushed her to write the scandalous list now picking at her skin.
Biting down her fears and the voice of reason screaming at her, she moved towards the corridor, holding her breath.
CHAPTER 2
The second she stepped into the corridor, her breath was stolen when she felt strong hands grab her and push her into a wall. She opened her mouth to protest but felt a hand cover her mouth.
Cecilia wondered if she was being robbed.
Of course it would be just her luck to have fallen prey to a robber in a place where others found love interests. Her eyes widened, struggling to adjust in the dimly lit corridor but when it did, she spied the familiar tiger mask of the man she had been following.
"What is an innocent maiden like you doing in a place like this?" he asked suddenly, releasing her from his hold though his thumb never left her face.
She felt the panic seep out of her with every swipe of his finger on her jaw but she was filled with renewed trepidation for the position they were in.
He was standing much too close to her than was proper and she could feel one very hard thigh of his between her legs. She swallowed unable to respond.
His voice betrayed no recognition and was a rich baritone that indeed confirmed he was no ordinary Englishman. His scent was heady and she itched to breathe him in deeper.
She eyed his lips, the only clearly visible feature asides his eyes and admired the fullness of them. It was curved to the side in a smile that had her lowering her eyes.
He leaned closer, breathing in her hair and stepped closer. His warmth had her heart racing in her chest and she feared he could hear how loudly it was beating in her chest. Her body felt impossibly hot even though there was a cool draft from an open window to their left.
Was there something else in the wine?
That would explain the odd sensations warring in her body.
He was barely touching her yet heat travelled from where his finger traced her skin, shooting to her nipples which she had felt harden into points as well as the core of her between her legs. She pressed her thighs together to ease the pressure but it only made it worse.
"Are you frightened, little mouse?" he asked with the smile still on his mouth. "I don't bite, contrary to what my mask seems to make you believe."
He was laughing at her, and the thought had her frowning.
How dare he?
