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At this point, I’m certain even a demure lady of the court would be aggravated, and I’ve hardly pretended to be that. “A liaranda scoundrel. Tell me, shall I expect those pursuits to continue throughout our joyous union?”
“You do yourself a great disservice, my lady.” He holds a hand to his heart in offense. “Any harlots that I may have been with before were dalliances at best, distractions at worse. None so... accomplished as you are.” The barest bitter edge coats his tone, and a sneaking suspicion creeps into my mind.
“I assure you,” I bite back. “Myaccomplishmentsare nothing compared to your own.”
He purses his lips. “Don’t sell yourself short. You really are a standout. One might even say you’reon fire.”
The last two words come out a hiss, and I stumble, my ankle twisting beneath me in a dance that should be easy. The glass fractures at the instep, and I curse internally.
Remy holds me upright, though his expression is hard, nothing at all like it was yesterday when he was carefully removing my glove.
I meet his gaze, the eyes he hasn’t bothered to color tonight, and it’s obvious that he knows. All that remains to be seen now is which of us will fold first.
He leans down until I can feel his breath on my ear, giving every outward appearance of intimacy. But there is nothing sexual about what he whispers next.
“Your mask is slipping.”
