Page 28 of Twice Upon a Midnight

“He wears no mask,” she whispered the realization on a deep breath, as if she’d been uncertain if she’d finally see his face or not.

“Perhaps he should have.”

“No.” She slowly caressed her delicate fingers across his cheek and murmured, “So many hours I spent wondering what you looked like behind that mask…”

Her touch both soothed and heated him. But then, she’d always been a contradiction. “Disappointed?”

“Not at all.” When she brushed her thumb across his chin, he turned his face into her hand and placed a kiss to her palm, and she rewarded him with a tremble of vulnerability. “Your appearance isn’t at all repulsive,” she repeated back to him his words from the night they met. “I would venture even tolerable, if I were feeling charitable.” When the corners of his mouth curled up with amusement at her teasing, she outlined his lips with her fingertip. “Some might say…handsome.”

“And what would you say?”

“Perfect.” She rose onto tiptoes and touched her lips to his.

He froze, not daring even to breathe. The kiss was little more than chaste, but the innocence of it nearly undid him. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and devour her.

“And me?” she asked, lowering herself away slowly. “Should I put my mask back on?”

If you do, I’ll rip it away.“No. You’re not at all repulsive,” he tossed her teasing words back at her.

A lilting laugh spilled from her. “Some might say pretty.” Her eyes could have rivaled the moon for their brightness. “What would you say?”

He cupped her face between his hands and lowered his mouth to whisper against her lips, “Simply beautiful.”

This time, there was nothing at all innocent or chaste about the kiss. Instead, he kissed her languidly, reveling in the sweet taste of her lips and the warmth of her soft body as she pressed against him. He took his time in touching the tip of his tongue to the right corner of her mouth, then sweeping over her bottom lip to the other corner, which tasted just as unbearably delicious as the first. When a sigh escaped her, he nearly groaned.

He stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides. This wasn’t why he’d asked to meet her, and the sober reminder frustrated him. She deserved better, in every way.

Ella stared at him and blinked, as if seeing him for the first time. But then, he supposed, she was.

How would she look at him when she learned his true identity?

“Come with me.” He held out his hand to her, needing a distraction. “I have a surprise.”

“You’re already a grand surprise,” she murmured and slid her fingers into his, to be willingly led away.

He crooked her a grin, then guided her carefully away from the stone wall and into the shadows. He led her to the spot he’d found for them, where a small patch of grass spread out beside tall trees.

Her fingers tightened around his in surprise. “Is that…a picnic?”

He grimaced. “An attempt at one.”

The idea was Martin’s. The old man had arrived at Spenser’s rooms with a basket filled with all kinds of cold plates and half a dozen blankets flung over his arms and shoulders. There was even a wide oil slicker to keep the damp earth from soaking through the blankets. Breads, roasted chicken, fruits, cheeses, a bottle of wine—Spenser had no idea where Martin had gotten the money to buy such things or if they’d been acquired by nefarious means, and he’d been afraid to ask. He was simply grateful for his friend’s help.

“A success,” she acknowledged in an awe-struck murmur as she took it all in.

A picnic was the last thing he should have brought, given why he’d wanted to meet her. It would have been better to simply tell her outright and have it over with quickly rather than delay the inevitable.

But now that he saw her wondrous expression, he was glad he had. Perhaps this small act of kindness would soften the blow when he revealed who he was and attempted to somehow convince her that he never meant to harm her.

She slipped away from him as she moved toward the small spread, and he resisted the urge to take her hand back in his. She sat on the layers of blankets and tucked her legs beneath her as she reached to pluck a grape from its bunch.

She did a poor job of hiding her pleased smile when she brought the grape to her lips and whispered, “Oh, this is simply wonderful!” She looked up at him and held out her hand toward him. “Join me.”

A siren tempting sailors to destruction on the rocks couldn’t have been more alluring.

He couldn’t fight his attraction for her. Seeing her in the moonlight and hearing her poetic teasing, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her his true identity before he had to. Tonight would be the last time he’d see her, and selfishly, he didn’t want to ruin it too soon.

Instead of joining her on the blanket, though, he took her hand again and pulled her to her feet. “Dance with me.”