His teeth scraped her lips as he pushed her backward, pressing her into a bookcase. She gasped, both from surprise and pleasure, and he instantly took advantage, plundering her mouth with an impassioned sort of brutality that marked her as his. It was wild and unapologetic – precisely what she craved. And when his hand gripped her thigh and he pushed his hips harder against her, newfound pleasure surged through her. She instantly shifted to give him more access.
This was better than anything she had ever experienced before. It was frantic, wicked, and utterly delicious. Hands roaming, exploring, mouths nibbling and tasting while sweet pressure grew inside her. A moan filled the air and…
Tristan froze.
His breaths were ragged, his heart a galloping mess. Heat scorched his back where Lilli’s hands touched him—beneath both jacket and shirt. How the hell had that happened?
Warily, he opened his eyes and drew back a little, enough to see her dazed expression and her kiss–swollen lips. He swallowed and instinctively rolled his hips, making her shudder and sigh with such passion, his own arousal increased. And made it all the more difficult for him to do what he had to.
With a curse, he stepped back and added respectable distance. But there was nothing respectable about her ravished appearance or the too snug fit of his trousers.
Good God. He’d been on the verge of having his way with her in the library. With the door wide open. If that did not define insanity, he wasn’t sure what did.
Knowing they could not be found here like this by anyone, he straightened himself and told her firmly, “You should go.”
“But–”
“I still need to find the books I came for.”
His words seemed to have the cooling effect he’d hoped for. She pushed away from the bookcase. A frown creased her brow. “So you’re still going to help Papa and Henry gather information on Mr. Ershwin and Mr. Newhurst. After this?”
“It’s my job, Lilli.”
“Right. Of course.” She smoothed her skirts and tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ears. Wordlessly, as though the act of speaking would tear her to pieces, she walked to the door. Her sweet fragrance of jasmine or some other floral scent assailed him as she passed, and nearly made him do something stupid like catch hold of her and kiss her again.
“You should get a costume.” The comment was barely more than a whisper, delivered over her shoulder as she paused in the doorway. “At least then we'll be able to dance at the masquerade without anyone being the wiser.”
It took a moment for him to follow her thoughts and recall the upcoming dance. His heart clenched at the idea of pretending just for one night that he was her equal. But what he feared most of all were additional interactions, each one strengthening the bond between them and making it harder for him to give her up. As logical reasoning told him he'd have to.
But before he could voice an objection, she swept from the room. He stared blankly at the closed door before he realized he was already trying to figure out what his costume should be.
Good Lord, she’d be the death of him.
Most likely with the aid of her father’s pistol.
Six
The ballroom glowed with golden light spilling from hundreds of wax candles. Tristan had watched the footmen light them an hour ago. Now, standing in a far corner, he observed the swarm of guests from behind a golden mask that covered most of his face. Silks shimmered and jewels twinkled while champagne flowed. Dancing couples smiled and laughed as they moved in time to the lively tune being played.
Feeling like an imposter, Tristan held himself perfectly still. He hoped he’d avoid drawing attention while doing his best to convince himself that being here was a splendid idea and not a colossal mistake. But to leave after he’d caught a glimpse of Lilli had been impossible. A week had passed since their kiss in the library – a week filled with impassioned dreams he ought not be having and a burning desire to make each one real.
His heart thudded.
This evening she wore a white gown. Pleated in Grecian style, it hugged her slender figure in ways that ought to be illegal. It certainly made Tristan long to touch her, and to shove aside all the men he’d seen pay attention to her. She’d even danced with a few. Hell, she was dancing with one right now, holding her silver half mask in place with one hand while clasping her partner with the other.
The young man’s palm settled neatly against the small of her back as he turned her around. His eyes glowed with satisfaction while an arrogant smirk pulled at his lips as he guided her through the various steps.
Tristan wanted to punch him.
His hands were already balled into fists.
With a growl, he took a step forward.
“If I may,” said a masked man who suddenly barred Tristan’s path, “I’d recommendnotengaging.”
Nervous energy settled in the pit of Tristan’s stomach since there was no mistaking who this man was. He’d picked out his costume himself – had helped him dress for God’s sake. Was it possible Henry had recognized him as well?
Feeling ill, Tristan did his best to simply breathe.
