The seductive warning made her skin tingle deliciously.
He cornered her against the wall of the alcove. The ballroom’s hum faded completely behind them, and he loomed over her, pinning her with his body and scent as he braced his hands on either side of her head and leaned down.
“Raph, someone will see.” Camelia looked around in fear, but found no one nearby.
Her pulse quickened under his glare, her body arched towards him as she craved his touch even in a forbidden place.
“You laughed so freely with Ashton. Unashamed, unguarded. That laugh belongs to me, Camelia. Only I should draw it from you and make you unravel.”
“That’s absurd!” she protested. “Why does it affect you so?”
“Because you’re mine,” he said simply.
A shiver rippled through Camelia. The urge to give herself to him—consequences be damned—rose fierce and sudden inside her.
Sensing her need, Raph leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, a soft invitation. Camelia’s breath caught, then her lips parted.
“When we get home,” Raph murmured, “I’ll have you laughing, moaning, and begging only for me.”
Her knees nearly buckled at the promise. She pressed a trembling hand to his chest, not to stop him—not really—but to steady herself. “Raph… wait.”
He pulled back instantly, concern flickering across his features when she stepped away from him. She needed to catch her breath.
“Camelia?” Raph called after her as she walked briskly out of the alcove.
“I just need some air, Raph,” she managed, her pulse still racing. “You need to give me a moment.”
“A moment for what?” He hurried after her.
She spun, jabbing a finger at him—not accusatory, but desperate. “One minute you insult me, and the next you… you touch me like that, and I can’t think straight! You make me question everything I feel.” She turned away again, overwhelmed more by desire than anger. “Just a moment, please. I need to breathe.”
Raph halted, letting her walk toward the garden.
After a few minutes, footsteps approached.
“I told you I just needed a moment, Raph?—”
Her breath caught. It wasn’t her husband.
Lord Montague stood behind her, smirking, a glint of malice in his eyes.
“Well, well, Your Grace,” he drawled, his voice dripping with false charm. “It’s funny finding you here, in a shadowed corner without your…husband.” He eyed her with disgust.
“Lord Montague, it’s never a pleasure finding you at such events,” she responded stiffly.
Her insult made his nostrils flare.
Lord Montague began to circle her like a hungry predator. “How is His Grace’s daughter? What was her name again?” He frowned in thought. “Ah, yes! Was it Pamela?”
Camelia’s back went rigid. “Why in heaven’s name are you asking about Pamela?” She did not hide the distaste in her tone.
“I am just curious, that’s all,” he sneered.
“If you ever utter my daughter’s name again, I will silence you forever, Montague.” Raph’s booming voice stopped Lord Montague in his tracks.
Camelia’s heart lurched. The venom in Raph’s tone chilled her, and it seemed to have the same effect on Lord Montague.
Why did he mention Pamela? Does he want to hurt Raph through her?
