Being in character, being in disguise, being back in the game…it was like flying. He loved this feeling, but this timeRosiewas beside him, and he wasn’t sure why that didn’t make him far more nervous.
Rosie was sweet and innocent and didn’t belong here; but she’d swept in on his arm, playing a role the same as he was, acting as if she not onlyshouldbe here, among this torrid company…but reveled in it.
She was acting the way he was, and why the fook didn’t that bother him more?
Now she lifted the glass toward him, as if awarding him a point. Anyone watching from a distance would think them engaged in intimate conversation. Once they saw the cut of her gown, they’d likely assume Bull was seducing the hell out of her, frankly.
Once they saw his face, they’d know how much he wanted to.
“You challenged Da to a sparring match, Bull, remember? I certainly do. You were teaching Hunter to throw a larger opponent, and when Da told you that you were doing it incorrectly, you challenged him.”
“Aye, and he beat me senseless,” Bull repeated in a growl, shifting toward her so observers would think him entranced. All part of the disguise, obviously. “Terrifying, like I said. What does that have to do with the fact ye’ve somehow finished the wine?”
Her bare arm snaked into his vision holding an empty goblet, and he took it without thinking. Before he realized what was happening, Rosie had plucked his mostly full goblet from his fingers.
When he opened his mouth and turned to object, she smiled up at him.
Nay.
Nay, that was too simplistic a description.
Rosie Hayle, in that costume…
Bull swallowed.
Sheglowedup at him. Shefascinatedup at him. Shealluredup at him.
Shetemptedup at him.
Aye, her lips were curled, and aye, her perfect little teeth were visible…but that wasn’t a meresmilethat she was bestowing upon him.
That waseverything.
Fook me.
Scowling, he swung back to the crowd.
“For fook’s sake, Rosie. Ye need to keep yer wits about ye,” he mumbled, the world’s greatest hypocrite. “I cannae have ye getting drunk at yer first masquerade.”
More throaty chuckles. “Oh, invidious cuntwomble!” she countered his curse. “Why do I need my wits about me? This isyourcase, yes? That is what you keep telling me. I am merely your companion for the night.”
She’s playing a part. Just playing a part.
Bull managed not to groan at the thought of her in that role, but it was close. His cock very definitely refused to pay attention to the reminder. He forced himself to focus on the raucous flock of young men who had just stumbled down the steps.A penguin. The Madam’s note said her man would be dressed as a penguin.
Alas, no man-sized penguins stood out from the crowd.
“Ye need yer wits about ye,” he repeated, “in case ye find yerself alone with one of those arseholes.” He nodded to the half dozen young roisterers. “They’ll no’ hesitate to try to corner ye.”
Or worse.
Instead of being shocked by such a thought, Rosie hummed and shifted at his side. Christ Almighty, her hip brushed against him again and he wondered what the hell he’d been thinking, to design her such a delicious costume.
Ye ken what ye were thinking. Ye were thinking ye wanted to see Rosie Hayle decked out in a slinky gown and bedecked in pearls, and a mermaid was a damned brilliant excuse.
He wished Past Bull had given thought to Present Bull’s condition before making that decision.
Especially after the way he’d damn near spent in his trousers earlier today, just trimming her hair. She’d leaned so trustingly against him, her skin so silky beneath hisfingertips, her breath catching whenever he accidentally touched her…
