Itwashe. There was no question.
Ido hope you aren’t about to cast up your accounts on my waistcoat, your majesty,the Knave of Diamonds had said that night.
While on this night, Lord Corvindale had said,Ido hope you aren’t wiping your nose on my shirt, Miss Woodmore.
She’d been kissed by the Earl of Corvindale? She’d waltzed with him? Flirted with him?
Maia felt faint. And queasy.
And…warm. Suddenly very, very warm. She needed to swallow, to lick her dry lips. That kiss had been…well, she’d tried not to think about it. Because of Alexander.
Because if she was going to marry a man, she shouldn’t be thinking about the kisses of another one—especially a bad-tempered, vampiric earl. She shouldn’t even have beenhavingkisses from another man.
Something awful churned inside her. Guilt and shame, and yet…the tug of memory, of need, overrode it.
She raised her eyes and looked at Corvindale directly.
He must know it had been she, even if he hadn’t at the time—for after their interlude, when he’d accosted her and thrown her onto the balcony, he would have recognized her from her costume.
Never one to shirk responsibility, nor to ignore the elephant in the room, Maia said, “Did you know it was I, my lord Knave of Diamonds?”
His eyes widened just a bit, then quickly shuttered. There was a beat of silence, then, “I meant to prevent you from doing damage to your reputation by dancing twice with a man not your fiancé. I am, after all, your guardian.” Even though his words were flat, she sensed an underlying defensiveness there. She looked at him more closely.
Good heavens. Maia realized, suddenly, she’dkissed a vampire.
Her lips parted in renewed shock, but at the same time, a rush of heat billowed up inside her, fluttering in her belly and disrupting her breath.
He turned his face away, suddenly and sharply, and she was reminded of him doing precisely the same thing as he ended their masked kiss that night.
Oh, yes. Every detail of that interlude had been burned upon her memory.
Corvindale’s fingers curled tightly now, and his wrists no longer rested loosely on the top of the seat. He’d pulled them closer to his body, as if to arm himself.
She became aware of the sound of roughened breathing, and noticed the way his lips had pressed flat and hard. And deep inside Maia, her heart pounded madly. Her hands were clammy. Something was churning inside her.
“My lord,” she said. She needed his attention, she needed him to look at her. But he didn’t move. “Corvindale,” she said more sharply.
At last he turned. She didn’t know what she’d expected—burning red eyes, bared fangs, hissing and furious—but he appeared the same as he always did. Ah, except for the eyes.
There was, still, a faint glow there, as if he hadn’t quite been able to subdue it.
And as their eyes met, she felt a little shimmy of warmth wriggling through, expanding and filling her.
“I have been thinking about the kiss,” she said, once again addressing the elephant in the room.
“Thekiss?” Corvindale replied. “An interesting choice of article.” His voice had changed; the timbre was richer. Deeper. And there was something in his eyes. Something…different.
“I can’t help but wonder,” she continued, “if it was so memorable simply because of the environment. The mysteriousness of anonymity.” Maia heard her voice, but herattention was focused on the man across from her. The tug, the connection between them was as real as if a string—no, a rope—bound them together. “A bit of freedom allowed due to the masks. One can only assume you felt the same way, my lord.”
“One could assume,” he replied mildly. But his eyes burned a bit brighter. He’d become so very still. This, even as his regard remained steady and strong.
“I suspect there is a way to find out.” She swallowed hard, and felt even warmer and more filled with expectancy. Something twisting and fluttering moved in her. Her heart banged in her chest.
“Are you suggesting you wish to be kissed?” His voice was emotionless.
Maia licked her lips, suddenly nervous. Yet determined. Surely the experience had been overblown in her mind and would turn out to be little more than an awkward experience. “Yes.”
“In order to determine whether the previous kiss was…memorable? Is that it?”
