“How would you know?” She coyly asked.
His deep chuckle rumbled in her ear he twirled her again. It did not feel as delicious or as pleasurable as it did when Tristan had touched her, but she allowed it all the same.
“I suppose you are right,” the man mused, moving her along with the rhythm of the music, “However I am sure I would recognize these delectable curves if I had seen them once before.”
Ophelia had to give Tristan that. He knew how to dress a woman to highlight her best attributes, and for Ophelia, those were her curves. They were not as punctuated as some of the hour-glassshaped women that frequented the club, but they were not small either, and the way the dress wrapped around her showed them off perfectly.
“My curves are not often seen,” she confessed with a flirtatious tone.
“No?” The man mused, his masked face tilting down as he slowly eyed her from feet to forehead. Ophelia felt his grip on her tighten, and she felt a tinge of panic start to rise as he added, “Such a pity.”
“I prefer to see, not be seen,” she replied, trying to keep her carefree tone.
“Oh,” he said with a chuckle, his smile growing wicked, “One of those. I must confess enjoy watching from time to time myself.”
He spun her around again, the suddenness of it making her gasp, and her back was suddenly pressed to his firm chest.
“Though I would much prefer to have you than watch you,” he whispered into her ear.
She then felt his hands smooth down her waist, and immediately, Ophelia knew she’d made a mistake. Tristan had warned her over and over about how flirtatious the Masquerade’s members could be. She had even watched them be as such. Yet it was not until that moment that she experienced what such heavy flirting felt like. It was blunt, even by herstandards, and though she knew he did not mean to sound so intimidating, she suddenly feltveryintimidated.
“I am afraid that is not an option,” she answered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “In fact this amount of touching is a bit too much for me.”
Ophelia felt a bout of fear move through, worried for what his reaction would be. To her surprise though, he spun her back out of his arms and joined their hands as they came to a stop.
“That is not a problem, dear lady,” he replied, “Thank you for your boundaries. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”
Behind her mask Ophelia’s brows flew up in surprise.That was all it took?Then she remembered Tristan’s rules for the club. How consent was always required. And she realized then,thiswas exactly how most members must have behaved.
“No,” she answered, offering him a small but sincere smile, “And I thank you for the dance. I am sorry that is all I could offer.”
“No apologies necessary,” her replied, bowing his head, “Let me know if you would like another dance. It would be my pleasure.”
Ophelia curtseyed as he lowered his head to her hand, but before his lips could even brush over her knuckles, he was suddenly pushed away. She gasped, stepping back as Tristan came out of nowhere and twisted the man’s arm behind his back.
“What are you doing?!” She exclaimed.
Tristan threw her a warning look to be quiet and addressed the man she was dancing with.
“Did you touch her without her permission?” Tristan demanded of the man.
The man grunted in pain, but he did not move to fight Tristan’s hold.
“We were just dancing,” he grunted out. “She did not tell me she belonged to anyone.”
Tristan let out a feral growl as his grip on the man tightened.
“That was not my question,” he snarled.
Others were starting to look on at them, but no guards had come to stop the fight yet, and Ophelia did not want them to either.
“Tr- Devil. Let him go,” she demanded. “He was just kissing my knuckles to end the dance. I am the one that approached him. He has done nothing wrong!”
Tristan grabbed Ophelia’s wrist as quickly as he let the man go, hauling her quickly back toward his offie. Ophelia struggled to keep up with his large steps, and hated how many heads turned toward them as they made their way through the main hall anddown the hall. The moment they were back in his office though she wrenched her wrist out of his grip and peppered her fists into his chest.
“Ophelia, stop it,” he growled, batting her hands away.
“What did you do that for!” She demanded, ignoring his demand. She swiped back at his hands and pushed hard against his chest, enraged.
