He tore his mouth from hers. The flame in the lamp revealed eyes smoldering with desire. “Struggle against me,” he rasped so low she almost couldn’t make out the words.
He covered her nose and mouth with a largehand, which effectively served to make her less recognizable. Squirming, she pushed against his broad, sturdy chest but not with any strength, not that she could have shoved him back if she put all her force behind it. Solid muscle greeted her, and she wanted to run her hands over every inch.
He skewered with a gaze the one who had opened the door. “A little privacy, if you please.”
“No one is supposed to be in here,” a male voice said a tad hesitantly.
“She’s been teasing me all night and I’m near to bursting.”
“Be quick about it then.” The door slammed shut.
Marcus lifted his hand and his weight. “What—”
When she shoved this time, he moved. Knowing it would be unwise to linger after having been spotted in here, she quickly gathered up all the attachments of her camera, including the tiny bits that held the images, dropped them all into a black velvet pouch, and tucked it into her corset so it was nestled snuggly between her breasts. Picking up what had normally looked like a pocket watch, she pressed the lens until it collapsed into place, snapped the cover shut, and left the object to dangle from her waist. Rolling up the foolscap, she crouched and slipped it back into a hidden compartment beneath the desk where she’d found it. Straightening, she snatched up her mask and tied it into place.
“I’m going out through the terrace doors.” She hadn’t been able to come in that way because ofthe crowd mingling about on the terrace, but if she rushed from this room now with a coy smile anyone who noticed her would no doubt think she’d been engaged in a little tryst or was striving to escape the notice of an ardent admirer. “To throw that lout off my scent, I need you to go back into the hallway and tell him you sent me out through the terrace doors to shield my identity.”
“Wait for me out there.”
She nodded brusquely, grabbed his cravat, rose up on her toes, and gave him a quick, hard kiss on the mouth. “Thank you for putting your revulsion for me aside and playing along, Marcus Stanwick.” Before he could respond, she blew out the flame in the lamp, dashed over to where she knew the outer door waited, drew the draperies slightly aside, and escaped into the night.
Revulsion? Yes, Marcus should have been repulsed while kissing her. Instead, he’d become lost in the sensual movements of her lush mouth and the tantalizing flavor of her tongue.
Now he quickly made his way to the corridor where the masked intruder was leaning against a wall. He immediately straightened. “Where’s the bird?”
“She never should have been in my arms.” But damned if she hadn’t felt right there. “I sent her out via the terrace to protect her reputation.”
“Every woman here is fair game. Her only loyalty should be to pleasure.”
“The one who brought her would no doubt disagree and I’ve no desire to face a pistol at dawn.”
The man shrugged. “You should be able to find a replacement easily enough.”
Marcus almost told the man Esme wasn’t so easy to replace. “I’ll take a look around then, see what I can find.”
“Be sure to use someplace else for your next encounter.” He moved to the door and slipped a key inside the keyhole. “This door should have been locked.”
It no doubt had been before she’d required entry. Marcus headed outside where people were wandering around or frolicking about like wood nymphs. Even though most were silhouettes, he knew he’d recognize her if he caught sight of her. He moved quickly through the gardens, checking behind bushes and rose trellises, interrupting one couple engaged in a frenzied coupling against a tree. He’d never much liked Podmore, had heard rumors about his proclivities and entertainments, and was grateful he wore a mask to disguise his features. Although it only now struck him that she’d still known who he was, just as he’d been able to identify her. It seemed they were attuned to each other. He didn’t want to contemplate the reasoning behind it—or how much he’d enjoyed kissing her.
The glare he’d given the fellow who had opened the door had not been feigned. He’d detested the interruption, had wanted to slide his hands along her long legs, lifting her skirt as he went. He’dwanted to taste more than her lips, had wanted to taste all of her. The thoughts bombarding him now infuriated him, almost as much as the fact that she’d lied, hadn’t waited for him, but had effectively made her escape.
He reached the rear of the gardens. If she remained, he suspected he’d have little luck finding her, but he knew where she’d eventually appear—her residence. Shoving on the gate, he stepped out into the mews. A host of carriages were lined up, awaiting the return of their travelers. Weary coachmen and footmen would probably be standing about until dawn. He approached a liveried footman, leaning against the door of a coach and smoking a pipe. “Did a woman wearing a golden mask pass this way?”
“Like decadence personified. She went that way, guv.” He tilted his head toward the left side opening into the mews.
“Thank you.” Trying not to recall a time when he’d have had a coin to flip toward the servant, he raced to the mouth of the mews and onto the brick walk that lined the street.
There she was, a considerable distance away, walking briskly but managing to give the impression she wasn’t in any rush. Somewhere along the route, she’d discarded the mask and acquired an umbrella. The fog was beginning to roll in, silent and thick, but he detected no whisper of rain. He was beginning to find her far more intriguing out of bed than he thought he might find her in it. He’d looked at her and seen a womanwhose value resided in what she was capable of delivering while lying on her back. But she was multifaceted, a conundrum that made her worth exploring while vertical as well as horizontal. Her relationship with his sire made no sense. He couldn’t imagine the duke being captivated by every mysterious aspect of her, and what a waste that would be—to focus only on what she provided between the sheets.
Striding more quickly than she was, he tossed his own mask aside and fought to give the appearance he wasn’t chasing her, she wasn’t his target, and his ultimate goal wasn’t reaching her before she could disappear again.
Continuing on, not breaking her stride, she glanced back and hailed a hansom cab. As the driver brought the horse to a halt slightly ahead of her, Marcus broke into a run, reaching the conveyance and climbing in after her before the front doors could swing closed. She gave no indication she was surprised by his appearance, but neither did she glance over at him. She merely stared straight ahead as though she had the power to cause the encroaching fog to dissipate.
“What were you doing back there?” he asked. “At Podmore’s. In his library.”
“Kissing you.”
Was that the reason she’d run? Because she’d enjoyed it as much as he had? Because she’d felt the fire igniting between them? “Before that. At first blush, I’d say you were taking photographs, but I’ve never seen a camera that small.”
