She froze at the sound of a drunken voice beside her. Normally, she was very aware of the other patrons and moved herself out of the way of anyone who leered. But she’d been distracted and now when she turned there was a very large, very drunk, very focused man standing over her, licking his lips as he looked at her.
“What a pretty little chick you are,” he drawled. “Looking for a fox to come into your henhouse?”
She stepped back, but the crowd had swelled and there was very little space to be put between then. She forced a smile. “You mistake me, sir, I am not here for…foxes.”
He laughed. “Well, if you like hens, I’d pay you ten pounds to watch.”
Her eyes widened. That was one thing she hadn’t seen during her time here. “N-no,” she insisted. “I’m sure there are other ladies who would be pleased at the offer, though. Good night.”
She pivoted to walk away and he caught her arm, dragging her back toward him. His eyes were no longer filled with humor, but dark and angry. “You’re right, plenty of other ladies would give what I wanted. I chose you, you tart. Now give me what I want.”
She pulled against his grip, but he was far too big and strong to escape. “Stop,” she said firmly and clearly. “I said no.”
“You don’t get to say no,” he growled.
“I believe she just did.”
Isabel gaped in shock, for the very handsome man she had been focused on earlier was the one speaking as he pushed through the crowd. It was as if she’d conjured him. Up close she could see his eyes were a beautiful gray, and right now they were stormy seas, filled with anger at the man holding her.
“You meant it, did you not?” he asked softly, those eyes darting over to her. “You weren’t playing a game?”
“No—no,” she gasped, even more captivated by the dark, deep resonance of his voice. “I was not playing a game.”
The stranger reached out and caught the cad’s arm, breaking his grip on her wrist and pulling him away from her. She lifted it, rubbing gently as the stranger put himself between them.
“I cannot imagine you were not read the same rules as we were when you came in here, sir,” the stranger said. “The ladies are to be unmolested. To behave as you are is to court banishment, I believe.”
Her attacker’s eyes narrowed farther. “You work for Rivers, then?” he spat.
“I don’t, but I can certainly call someone who does.”
“For a whore,” the man spat. “A woman who lowers herself to come here and then denies what she’s exhibiting for all to see. Whore!”
He shouted the last over the stranger’s shoulder toward Isabel, and she turned away in embarrassment.
Now the stranger’s posture grew even angrier. He actually seemed bigger as he tugged her attacker close and growled. “This woman has just as much as right as you do to come and go as she pleases. By coming here she did not ask to be molested by a drunken fool. Her desires are no dirtier than your own. Now get out or I will find your way out for you.”
He pushed the other man then, sending him staggering into the crowd. Her attacker glared at them, then skulked away.
Now the stranger turned to her, all the anger gone from his expression, replaced with concern. “Are you well? Did he hurt your wrist?”
She glanced down and found that she was still gripping it in her opposite hand. “Oh, n-no,” she stammered, working hard to find words, harder than it should have been. “I’m fine. Thank you so much, sir. I cannot think of what I could do to tell you how much I appreciate your interference and your harsh set-down of that lout.”
His eyes went a little wider and she blushed slightly as she realized the double entendre of her words. Now she had no idea what he would think of her, and if she had just jumped out of a cozy frying pan and directly into a burning fire.
Chapter Two
Matthew was having a hard time focusing as he stared down into the lovely face of his masked companion. Her delicate features were impossible to hide, even beneath the brocade mask that sheltered her identity. She had full lips and thick dark hair spun up in a simple Greek style that framed her face perfectly.
He hadn’t been thinking of how beautiful she was when he approached. In truth, he hadn’t been able to see her, only the lout who was holding her, demanding what she clearly didn’t want to give.
But now…now he found himself feeling things he hadn’t for years. Wanting things he’d determined he would not seek during his night at the Donville Masquerade.
He shook his head. Robert was rubbing off on him.
“Does that often happen here?” he asked.
A flush of color filled her pale cheeks, but she shook her head. “No. It’s never happened before. They are very careful at the masquerade. It is full agreement or nothing at all.”
