CHAPTER 2
Finn hadn’t planned to spend an evening alone at the Donville Masquerade. After they sparred, Ramsbury had promised to join him, but Finn had been there nearly half an hour with no sign of his friend. He’d been frustrated by that, but all had faded the moment he’d looked across the crowded, writhing mass of lovers, and found the woman at the bar.
It wasn’t just that she was beautiful. Even from a distance and with the mask half-covering her face, she was the kind of person that drew the eye. With thick, auburn hair that was done in a half-up, half-down fashion made to make a man think of tangled nights in sweaty bedsheets, she was a beauty. She had a wide smile, like she laughed often and loudly. He didn’t know the color of her eyes, but he’d wanted to the instant he saw her.
He hadn’t approached at first. He’d simply observed. Watched her flirt with the barkeep, who seemed equally charmed by her. Watched her laugh with a confidence that Finn had always been drawn to in a lover. She was sure of herself and that was exactly what he wanted. No mincing, no pretending, no playing games.
When she’d looked at him at last, her expression transforming into something heated, something inviting, he’dfelt his cock start to harden. And as he got closer, as he realized those eyes of hers were a startling shade of dark green, he’d been even more drawn. Oh yes, this night was going to be memorable.
He reached her at last and smiled. “Good evening.”
Her smile, which had been inviting, faded a fraction. Not much, but he felt the shift. “Good evening,” she repeated, her tone a little flat. Her posture had changed, as well, gone stiffer.
Wasshe playing a game? Did she invite him over with her smile and then expect him to beg a little for more? Earn a moment perched between those probably spectacular legs?
Perhaps he didn’t hate games quite so much as he had told himself earlier.
“May I join you?” he asked, motioning to the empty seat beside her.
She hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Of course.”
He took his place and motioned to the barkeep, pointing to her glass. The man met his eyes and inclined his head, the message received that Finn would like one of the same.
“It’s Rivers’ best,” she said softly.
A warning, he supposed, that the drink would be expensive. Kind of her, honestly, since those who came here were of varying classes and financial abilities. He inclined his head. “Then I’ll be sure to pay for yours, as well, if you’ll allow it.”
“I never turn down a free drink,” she said.
She turned her face a little and Finn stiffened. Now that they were so close, he could see a dark mark that peeked out just below the edge of the mask beneath her right eye. A bruise, and a rather bad one, he thought. Someone had hit her and a protectiveness rose up in him. He had always despised men who took advantage of women, who hurt them.
“And what is the name of the man who offers me a free drink?” she asked, her tone light. Was it falsely so?
He chose to ignore her injury for the moment. If the chance came later to bring it up, he would. “We’re anonymous, yes?” he said. “Unless you want to give meyourreal name.”
“Miss X,” she said evenly, and he could feel her judging how he would respond.
“Ah, how perfect, as I am Mr. Y.” He extended a hand. “And I would very much like to dance with you.”
Her breath caught slightly and she stared at the offered hand. Her hesitance made him wonder. He’d assumed she must be a lightskirt or a high-class courtesan. Often they had the confident attitude she exuded. But when she drew away, it made him question that supposition. Perhaps she wasn’t. So who was she? Had she changed her attitude toward him because she wasn’t actually ready to play a game here? Or because someone was forcing her to do so? Even the same man who had blackened her eye.
“I’d be happy to dance with you,” she said at last, and took his hand in her gloved one. When they touched, he found himself catching his breath.
He guided her to the dancefloor and set a hand on her hip. He drew her close, far closer than he would have in a proper ballroom, and she caught her breath. Her green eyes lifted to his as she wrapped one arm around his neck and placed the other in his hand. They began to move, a slow sway in the writhing crowd.
“So, Miss X,” he said, playfully accentuating her pseudonym. “What brings you to the Donville Masquerade?”
She laughed. “Is it your first time, sir? Are you an innocent amongst the wolves here?”
He couldn’t help but smile at her teasing. “And what if I were? What if I lied and told you it was my first time here? What would you say?”
“Well,” she said, her fingers brushing the back of his neck. Even though the wound layers of his cravat he felt a tingle at the touch. “Let me see. First, I’d tell you to look around you.”
He did so, watching the surging crowd for a moment and all its erotic games. “It’s stimulating.”
“Indeed. The club is meant for pleasure. It’s unlike any other hell in London. Any other hell anywhere, I’d wager. So if you want something...needsomething...this is the place to come. If you’re brave enough.”
He gazed down at her, away from the crowd. It was odd how easy it was to make everything else fade away and only see her. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced that with any other lover at Donville.
