He jerked at the question, and for a moment, he seemed surprised. She was proud of that fact, more than she should be. This man was jaded—being able to surprise him was a boon.
“You know the answer to that, I think,” he said. “You were there.”
“I was so wrapped up in myself that Ididn’tknow,” she explained as her fingers fluttered up to touch her scarred cheek through the mask. “Until my family told me this afternoon. Ellis…”
He turned his head. “You shouldn’t say my name, angel. I’m not worthy of that.”
“You were shot protecting me,” she said, ignoring his admonishment.
His mouth tightened. “I was shot because Ifailedat protecting you.”
Her lips parted at the choked sound to his voice. True regret, not something put on. Or if it was, this man was an actor of the highest caliber. How could she even know the difference?
“Is your wound healing?” she asked.
He shifted as if the concern was uncomfortable to him. She wondered if no one cared about this man and his wellbeing. He’d once been close to Anne’s husband Rook, but she knew the two were estranged and had been for a long time, even before Anne’s marriage. There was this other family member, or who she assumed to be a family member. But their interaction had been brief, if warm.
So was Ellis all alone in the world?
“I’m fit as a fiddle, angel,” he drawled, and the genuine quality was gone now. He was back to the game. Back to being Handsome Ellis Maitland, a character, not a person. “Are you hoping to test that out?”
Heat suffused her cheeks at the question, not even subtle in its double entendre. “You are so confounding,” she snapped.
He smiled and a dimple popped in his cheek that she suddenly wanted to trace with her tongue. “Thank you, I do my best.”
She huffed out a breath. “You say I shouldn’t be here, but then you try to seduce me.”
“I don’ttryto seduce, Juliana.” He drew out her name and inched forward, invading her space a fraction. She gasped at his body heat and the delicious leathery scent of him. “And you shouldn’t play with fire.”
“What I do is none of your business,” she whispered. “I came here to tell you that, nothing more.”
“You came here because you didn’t like how your encounter with that pup at the wall went,” he said, reaching out to catch an errant curl that had fallen from her bun between his fingers. He twisted it around his finger slowly and the gentle tug at her scalp made her catch her breath. “You came here because of your own dark purpose.”
Her breath came short now and she glared up at him. “So youwerewatching me.”
“If we’re in a room together, I’m watching you,” he whispered. “Am I wrong, Juliana?”
She pursed her lips in frustration. Damn this man. “No, you’re not wrong. I approached that man along the wall, and he said something…something very rude to me.”
“What did he say?” Ellis asked, his tone suddenly sharp as he jerked his gaze toward the young man she had approached what felt like an eternity ago.
“Something about only courtesans coming here,” she said, shaking her head. “It was uncouth, nothing more.”
“Ah, you didn’t like being compared to someone so low,” he said. “I understand.”
“No!” she said, pulling back from him. “I didn’t like his implication that a lady cannot feel desire. Or that desire or the control of one’s own body and its needs is something to be considered low. I wouldneverjudge another woman for her life and her choices.”
Ellis stared at her, his eyes wide beneath the mask. She felt trapped by that regard, sucked into blue depths that were brighter than the sea on a summer’s day, more pure than a cloudless sky, more hypnotic than a sapphire.
He reached for her, and even though she knew she should, it was impossible to pull back. His hand closed around her forearm and he tugged her forward, closer and closer as he bent his dark head to hers.
She found herself lifting to meet him, desperate for that moment when their lips were a millimeter apart. There he paused and drew a deep breath, like he was trying to take her in or perhaps slow himself down. If she feared he would withdraw, though, he did not. His free hand lifted to cup the back of her skull, lean fingers digging into the coiled mass of her hair, and then his lips brushed hers.
She had somehow thought it would be rough when he kissed her, but it wasn’t. He was gentle, just gliding his lips back and forth against hers in a slow seduction. She sighed at the pressure, at the warmth of his mouth and his breath. His grip on her forearm tightened, and suddenly she was molded even tighter.
Her softness seemed to tuck perfectly into every hard line of him, and they moaned together as the space between them vanished. When her lips parted, he traced them with his tongue, and gentle suddenly changed to something else.
She opened without understanding and his tongue moved inside, probing her, tasting her. She gasped and suddenly her hands were gripping his lapels. Had she done that? She didn’t recall lifting or fisting the fabric in her hands, but here they were. She touched his tongue with hers.
