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“I am not jealous!” she snapped.
“Then why are you angry with me?” He walked to stand in front of her with the bush between them. Her eyes looked familiar, he realized, and he wondered where he had seen those eyes before tonight.
“Do women truly mean nothing to you?” She continued to confuse him, and he was tempted to take off her mask so he could see her face.
“Athen—”
“That is not my name!” She tugged at her skirt in frustration while he ran a hand down his jaw. He was aggravated, and his body was strained with need. Yet he could not touch her without her permission, and certainly not when she was spitting fire at him.
“Give me your name then,” he requested gently. She glared at him for a moment before she reached behind her head and loosened her mask.
“Do you still need a name, Lord Guildford?” she asked.
Rhys now understood why her eyes had looked familiar, and as he recognized her, something fell into the pit of his gut. “No.” God, No! “Not you, Lady Elizabeth.”
