“You like it,” he said softly.
She glanced up at him. “That’s wrong, I suppose.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong and what’s right anymore, I don’t think,” he said. “Right now it feels very…muddled.”
She caught her breath. Certainly it did that.Thiswasn’t what she’d come here for, this wasn’t how far she’d declared she’d go. And yet here she was, in a stranger’s arms, talking about things no woman was supposed to talk about.
Or so she had been told.
“Why didyoucome?” she asked.
He blinked, like her question woke him from a dream. “I don’t know. Because…because I’ve stayed away from my life too long. Because someone told me I needed to come back to it. To this.”
There was something a little mournful in those words. Pain behind the soft, deep, hypnotic sound of his voice. She shifted a bit closer and his hands tightened on her again, like he wanted her nearer.
It was in that moment she realized they had stopped moving on the dancefloor. They stood in the middle, couples all around them, and he was just staring down at her. She up at him. Perhaps it was the masks, the anonymity, perhaps the environment, perhaps the fact that she’d been alone for a long time and that she feared a future that would potentially keep her locked away from these feelings for the rest of her life…whatever it was, she didn’t feel odd standing with him.
She felt alive. For the first time in a long time, she felt alive.
He bent his head slowly, and then those full lips she had mused about from across a crowded hall were on hers. At first he was tentative, gentle, the kind of kiss a man would give to a nervous bride. Something to ease and comfort.
But then heat took over, desire took over. He drew her closer and his mouth opened. She did the same and then he was inside, his tongue probing hers with deft, powerful precision. He tasted faintly of scotch, of mint, of potent male desire.
She lifted into all of it, clutching his lapels as his fingers tightened even further on her hip and pulled her flush against him.
She was drowning and she didn’t care. She’d come to watch, but this was better. This joining of mouths, this clashing of tongues…she wanted more of it. She wanted more of everything and she didn’t give a damn about the consequences.
They were jostled by a drunken couple flitting by, and the stranger broke his mouth from hers. The spell was broken with it. She stared up at him, still mesmerized by his handsomeness, his command, by whatever had wrapped itself around her and made her drop every barrier she’d had in her life.
If she didn’t stop now, if she didn’t walk away, she would give herself to him. A stranger, a man she had no idea about. And while that thrilled her, it also terrified her. The water was too deep and she realized she was out of control.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, then turned on her heel and ran.
It had been an hour since the beautiful masked stranger had fled the masquerade, and yet Matthew’s hands still shook as he rested them on the terrace wall. In the shadows he heard the grunts and moans of couples in the throes of passion, but he ignored them as he stared out toward the garden below.
“There you are.”
He didn’t turn. He knew it was Robert intruding upon his privacy. Of course it would be. Hugh would be tactful, Robert less so. It was like Matthew was being tested.
“I’ve been here a while,” he said, still without looking at his friend. “Seems you’ve been busy.”
“Very,” Robert said with a chuckle as he stepped up beside Matthew. He was more disheveled than he had been when they first arrived, and Matthew forced himself not to roll his eyes. Trust Robert to find his pleasure without any worries or questions or consequences.
And Matthew couldn’t stop thinking about a damned kiss.
“Who was she?” Robert asked.
Matthew jerked his gaze toward him. Robert’s face was impassive. At least he’d find no judgment here.
“I didn’t know you saw her,” he said as a way to dodge the question. “You were already gone with your conquest.”
“You just didn’t see me,” Robert said. “I may have found my conquest, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t take an interest in yours.”
Matthew’s hands tightened against the edge of the wall. He didn’t like the idea of Robert having aninterestin the lady he’d danced with.
“I don’t know who she was,” he admitted. “We didn’t exchange names.”
Robert drew back with a low whistle. “Anonymous. Very sensual.”
