Madeline flushed. She convinced herself that in the dark, he could not tell how red she had gone. Or so she hoped, at least.
“It is not of my concern,” she managed lamely.
He snorted. “Of course it is. It is onlyof yourconcern. You are my wife. Now, let me tell you, once and for all, that I have not seen Juliana Bolt since before we were married. Do you believe me?”
“I…”
“It is a simple question, Madeline. Yes or no. Do you believe me, or don’t you?”
Madeline bit her lower lip hard. She could not look away. His gaze was intense, boring into hers. She was vaguely aware of the applause in the background. One scene had finished, and another was beginning, it seemed. She wondered briefly how long until intermission, when their absence would be noticed for sure.
“Yes,” she heard herself say, the word cracking in her throat. “Yes, I do believe you.”
He gave a nod. “I am glad. I did not know that Juliana was performing this evening. You and my dear mother decided that we would come here, remember?”
“I remember. But, Tristan, I could swear that she looked straight at you while she sang. And before you tell me that it was not deliberate, or that she did not mean it, shemustknow which box belongs to you and James.”
Tristan pursed his lips. “Perhaps so. But the point, my dear, is thatIwas not looking ather.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Oh? Really?”
“Really. I was observing the scenery.”
She gave a snort of laughter, shaking her head. “I do not believe you.”
“You should!” he responded, grinning. “The brushwork on that large tree at the back was masterful.”
She rose to her feet, giggling, and reached for the curtain. She had intended to pull it back and step out into the corridor, but his hand closed over hers, large and strong and warm.
Heat flooded through her, tingles spreading up her arm from that simple touch. Her breath caught in her throat, and Madeline glanced slowly, slowly upwards, meeting his gaze.
His face was so close to hers that she could feel his warm breath.
“Don’t go,” Tristan murmured, lifting his hand to pinch her chin. “You still do not trust me, I see. Can’t I show you how trustworthy I can be?”
It felt like a trap. No, not a trap, not exactly, but as if she were perched at the top of a very slippery, muddy slope. If she were to begin to descend, even a little way, she would lose her footing and slide all the way to the bottom.
And yet here she was, preparing to descend.
“Very well,” Madeline breathed.
He smiled, a slow and wolfish grin that made her shiver, then leaned down and kissed her.
His lips were sweet and soft against hers, sending gentle tingles down her spine. Almost at once, however, he grew ravenous. One arm wound around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She gasped, placing her hands against his chest. She fancied that she could feel his heart hammer against her palms. Could he feel hers?
There was something hard pressing against her, a firm, hot thing between his hips that she could feel even through the layers of her gown.
Madeline realized at once what it was, and reddened so intensely that she thought her head might explode.
He chuckled against her lips, tilting his head to press a kiss against her throat.
“I can all but taste your heartbeat,” he whispered, his lips grazing the pulse that thrummed against her throat. She let out a strangled gasp, not entirely sure what to do with the powerful ache that throbbed through her whole body. It was the same wanting as before, the feeling she’d struggled with in the washroom, but it had returned in full force and then some.
He leaned down, just for a moment, and she found herself missing the weight of his arms about her. It was only when she felt his fingertips on the bare skin of her knee that she realized that he had lifted her skirts and slipped his hand underneath. He kissed her again, the tip of his tongue stroking the swell of her lower lip and even slipping inside.
It was as if she were drunk, the world spinning around her. Madeline felt his fingertips dance higher and higher, his skin warm against hers, the layers of skirts and petticoats crumpling between them.
She realized that he was going to touch the join between her legs just an instant before it happened. His knuckle brushed her core, and pleasure and want jolted through her. She gasped and then clapped a hand over her mouth to smother it. There was, after all, only a curtain here for privacy.
