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It was with great relief that Sabrina at last took her seat, grateful for the scant few inches of separation provided by the wooden arm of her chair.
The lights dimmed, the curtain rose, and the music welled forth once again.
Five minutes later, her mother quietly excused herself. Before Sabrina could rise to follow, Montgomery clamped a hand around her wrist. “The devil always promises paradise, Pest,” he whispered. “Just beware the snake in the garden.” He smirked. “I can almost guarantee that if you seek to pocket Fairford, you will most certainly be bitten.”
“The only snake I see here is you,” she hissed back, struggling to wrench free.
He grinned, coming closer. “My blood is anything but cold, as you well know. You should know that Fairford is out for conquest. He has no tender feelings for you.”
“Then it is well that I am not even remotely interested in sentimental foolishness, as I’ve told you before,” she replied frostily, scooting as far away as possible. The arms of her chair, formerly looked upon as friends, now imprisoned her. “And he is not ‘cold,’ as you imply. He is quite nice. You simply fail to understand that a lady actually prefers a man’s demeanor to be proper and dignified. Unlike you, he knows how to behave like a gentleman.”
“But you don’t want a gentleman, not really,” murmured Montgomery, his breath stirring the hair at her temple.
The desire she’d been so carefully keeping at bay broke loose to flood her with disturbing sensation.
“And you should be very interested in whether or not your future husband cares for you,” he continued, nuzzling her neck. “I think you are—only you’re too stubborn to admit it to yourself.”
She turned away, but the action only served to expose more of her neck to his predations. There in the darkness, his warm lips gently caressed her flesh. Her whole body screamed at her to meet them and kiss away the terrible ache. Instead she shut her eyes tight, resisting the urge, while at the same time prolonging the pleasure of his touch.
When she at last opened them, her gaze fell by chance on Fairford’s box. Fairford was watching the scene below, looking bored. Miss Bidewell, however, was not. The girl’s eyes were focused directly on her.
Sabrina elbowed Montgomery firmly in the ribs. “Stop that at once!” she commanded softly, squirming away.
He chuckled, a low, intimate sound meant only for her ears. The deep rumble melted into her bones. “I don’t like the idea of you visiting any garden but mine, Sabrina. It puts me in a most disagreeable mood.”
She froze, pleasure sweeping through her at his confession. She’d known he was jealous, but this was the first time he’d said so openly. The atmosphere suddenly felt charged, as before a lightning strike. On one level, such possessiveness was frightening. On another, it was completely exhilarating.
Reason quickly took over, cooling her excitement. What did it matter? She could not seriously consider him.
In direct opposition to all of her instincts, she deliberately stiffened and pulled away. “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to be in a disagreeable mood for a very long time, my lord.”
“Don’t make me raise the stakes,” growled Montgomery, running a hand down her thigh. “I already told you, I won’t give up.” He gripped the material of her skirt, dragging the heavy velvet upward.
She grabbed his hand and tried to force it back down, but he was too strong. Slowly, he exposed her stockinged ankles, then her calves, and then her knees. Her nails dug into the back of his hand, but still he soldiered on.
“If you try to get up, I promise you that you’ll leave half your clothes behind,” he chuckled wickedly, caressing her now naked thigh.
She gasped as he grazed the moist, heated flesh at their juncture. Moaning softly as he parted her delicate folds, she closed her eyes, shutting out the world. Tingles radiated from the point where his hand made delicious contact with her body.
“You were made for me, Sabrina.”
Just as she drew near the breaking point, Montgomery withdrew, tugging her skirt back down.
Dazed, she turned to see his laughing, dark eyes. Emotions rioted in an aftershock of longing and disappointment—and rage.
He bent until they were nearly nose to nose. “If you are to visit any garden, Sabrina, let it be mine. I assure you the blooms are never so sweet anywhere else.”
His lips swept down in a light wisp of a kiss that, for all its brevity, managed to fuel the fire in her loins to a roaring conflagration. It was all she could do not to follow him when he suddenly rose and excused himself.
Her mother came through just as he pushed aside the drape. “Henry, where are you going?”
“Just visiting the gentlemen’s lounge for a pipe. I’ll be back soon.”
Sabrina was left with no choice but to fume in stony silence. Refusing to look at her mother for fear she would be unable to contain her ire at having been deliberately left alone with that man, she took up her opera glasses and pretended to focus on the scene below.
Her gaze soon strayed across the theater. With a start, she realized she was again being watched—only this time, it wasn’t by Miss Bidewell.
Fairford was staring right at her. Horror flooded through her as the corners of his mouth slowly curled and he cocked his head in acknowledgment. His expression made it plain that, despite the dim lighting, he knew or at least guessed at what had transpired.
