Jealousy prickled beneath her skin.
“A new cologne? It smells suspiciously floral.”
His mouth parted. His gaze dragged over her bare shoulders. “You can’t walk into the ballroom dressed like that. I asked Charlotte to send something modest. Every man here will want you.”
At his veiled praise, the gown felt indecently tight.
“You’re avoiding the question, Dominic.”
“I’m the host. I’m expected to greet the guests and endurethe occasional embrace.” He drew his thumb across his lower lip as he studied her. “You’ll tell them you have the plague.”
She pursed her lips. “I thought I might play the hostess.”
“Not a chance. I’ll kill any man who comes near you.” He glanced around the sitting room. “You have a shawl. I’ve seen you wear it.”
“It will ruin the costume. Wait until you see my mask.”
The mask was fashioned in deep green feathers, layered like the plumage of a hunting bird. A slender black beak curved over the bridge of the nose, lending its wearer a predatory elegance.
She lifted it to her face and did not look away.
She was no one’s prey.
Dominic groaned. “Saints’ teeth. If I’m not hauled off in irons tonight, it will be a bloody miracle.”
“Is that another of your strange compliments?”
His hand came to rest on her waist. “You look beautiful. I don’t like how much that matters.”
“Matters because you dislike competition.”
“Matters because I won’t lose you.”
She laid a hand on his upper arm. “You won’t lose me. Not tonight.”
His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, where her pulse betrayed her. “Still, take this.” He drew a small blade from his coat, sheathed in jewelled leather. “Tuck it into your stocking. If only to appease me.”
She felt his fear for the first time, stripped of bravado.
She lowered the mask and brushed her mouth against his. He breathed her in before coaxing her lips apart, tasting her as though staking a claim.
When they parted, she took the sheathed blade. “I’ll keep it close.”
“To frighten. To maim. Nothing more.”
He held the mask, watching as she lifted her skirts and slid the blade into her garter. He did not look away.
The air thickened between them. If not for the Masque, they would already be upstairs, undressing, tumbling into bed.
A cheer drifted from the ballroom, followed by the scrape of violins striking up a wilder tune. She’d almost forgotten he had a house full of sinners.
“I presume you have Lord Templeton in the stocks?” she said before temptation could take hold.
Dominic exhaled through his teeth. “I locked him in the study with Ramsey. He swears he could find no proof that anyone owed my father money. He should have searched his own ledger.”
“How are we to play this?”
“We’ll lie and build the story as we go.”
