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Nicolo wasn’t remotely embarrassed. “You little wretch,” he growled, anger passing through his eyes. “Do you know what I could do to you?”
“Yes.” I held his gaze, realizing I had him exactly where I wanted him. He was enchanted with me, much though he wouldn’t admit it. “I’ve been waiting for you to do it.”
“And you shall continue waiting.”
“I am a patient woman.”
“I believe Balduin is correct.”
“About?”
“You should be whipped or beaten… you have overcome your class and you should be reminded where exactly you belong.”
I felt my eyes narrow as I stared up at him. “And where do I belong…master?”
“Don’t tempt me, Charlotte. I am only holding on by a thin string as we speak.”
I wasn’t quite certain what he meant by that, but his already prominent arousal pressed against me became suddenly more prominent. Taking advantage of the dance, I subtly moved my thigh between his legs to stoke the fire further. I pressed my leg more firmly against him, so I could feel the pounding pulse of his demanding erection. He was struggling to keep ahold of himself, conflicting emotions fighting for supremacy; anger at me; anger at himself; excitement at the public place in which this was playing out; and an attraction he could deny but couldn’t hide.
I looked up into his violet eyes. “Can we at least finish the dance before you decide to spank or whip me, sir?”
Even as I spoke, the music ended. I started to walk away, but Nicolo kept a tight hold of me. “I’m not done with you.”
“Master?”
Without warning, Nicolo’s masked face descended on mine and our lips joined in a fiery kiss. The anonymity of the masks gave us freedom, and so the heat between us was unrestrained. Nicolo’s hand slipped down the smooth material of my gown to cup my backside and pull me closer to him. I responded, working my leg ever more firmly against the frustrated hardness trapped in his pants.
“Let no one know who you are,” he said in a winded voice. “Tonight you are not my squire. You are someone else entirely.”
I nodded and gave him a smile that said his secret was safe with me. In the next instant, we joined the dance once more. This song was quicker, jauntier than the previous. It was one of those grand court dances in which people switched partners, circled each other, executed a series of complicated gestures and so on. I had, of course, been schooled in such dances and had no trouble following, but I found it almost physically hurt to let go of Nicolo.
But this was the start of a new game.
We were no longer pressed against each other, but the teasing arousal continued under the noses of the oblivious court. As we passed, Nicolo’s fingers traced the back of my neck or the curve of my hip; a glancing touch, yet it felt like a lightning bolt jolting through me. I replied in kind, even managing to squeeze the bulge in the front of his pants a few times, a bulge which remained and was giving a few of the other ladies a bit of a start when he danced with them.
Finally, we were returned to one another and I saw a hunger in his eyes I’d never seen before—there had always been a shadow of his feelings for me in his eyes but now the feeling was all there—predatorial, intense and pervasive. Perhaps tonight that hunger would finally be satiated. For us both.
And then I would kill him.
“I find something about you very interesting, Charlotte,” he growled.
“And what is that, sir?”
He twirled me around and then pulled me into him. “You are a maid and yet you can dance better than most ladies of court.”
“Oh,” I felt my heartrate quicken.
“Don’t tell me your father taught you that art as well?”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Very well, I shan’t.”
He held my gaze as a smile overtook his lips, something that was quickly followed with a chuckle.
Suddenly the moment was broken by a scream that rang out across the ballroom, loud enough to silence everything else.
All attention turned to the side of the room where Prince Balduin, dressed rakishly as a pirate, stared in horror at the arrow buried in the wall beside his head.
The arrow had just missed him and was still quivering.
