“Possessive, it turns out.”
A smile tipped about her mouth, adding lightness to her words. But they weren’t wrong.
“What man wouldn’t be with a wife like you?” he returned. “My only surprise is he doesn’t keep you to himself under lock and key.”
She gasped. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“He might.” The eyebrow he lifted wasn’t quite ironic. “You might not want to test his limits.”
“And you, my lord?” she asked. “Have you a wife?”
Turnabout was fair play.
“Let us not discuss husbands and wives. Let us speak of you and me.” He wasn’t sure if it was the whirl of the waltz or their conversation that dizzied through him and made his chest go light. “Andus.”
A seriousness settled about her. “Lord X, there is nous.”
But a note sounded in her voice, an uncertainty, as if she could be tempted into belief.
Then let him be Lucifer.
“There might be,” he said.
Her step faltered. He caught her without missing a beat.
“But why—” Opaque emotion flickered in her eyes. “Why speak of the future when we have tonight?”
Even as the part of him that wanted to realize a future with her demanded he press forward, another part—namely, the carnal—wouldn’t be deterred from exploring the possibility of this flirtation.
The future could wait.
He swirled them through the throng of other couples to the edge of the dance floor. His mouth met the cup of her ear, his hot breath surely sending a shiver purling down her spine. “It’s rather loud in here, don’t you agree?”
The invitation runningbelow his words…
The promise…
All Hortense could do was nod and not let go of his hand for anything as he led her past the crowd and down a long, quiet corridor devoid of all light, save that streaming through open curtains, night music at their backs. She knew—felt—where he was leading her, and she wanted to be led.
He poked his head into the first dark alcove they encountered. “Occupied.”
As was the second.
But the third was the charm. He pulled her inside and closed the curtains behind them. A long window allowed the moon to illuminate the small space in a silvery glow. How shadow and light caressed the angles of his face.
Shivery and hot, she pressed back into the corner where wall met window. Dark lust shone from his gaze, sending a sinuous wave of desire glittering through her. “I’ve never wanted a man like I want you.”
Oh, that she hadn’t spoken thusly to him, this stranger, her husband.
She couldn’t be sure if it was courage or foolhardiness inspiring her to speak those words aloud, but she cared not. She’d gone heady with champagne andhim.
With deliberate intention, he moved forward, and she became prey held in thrall to a predator. Powerless against him. Powerless against herself…against her desire. One hand planted on the wall beside her face, the other cupped her nape, as his mouth met hers, his lips firm and soft, pressing, searching, deepening the kiss as he touched his tongue to hers. His knee wedged between her legs up to her sex, which strained against him with exquisite pressure. She squirmed, writhed, mindlessly stretched toward the promise of release any way she could find it.
His hands slid down her body and began gathering up crimson silk, until he had her skirts bunched around her waist, her throbbing quim waiting for him. She reached down, her fingers trailing across his hard and ready manhood. She used the leg wrapped around his waist to bring him closer so she could work the closure of his trousers.
His mouth broke from hers. “I want to taste you.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
