seek a glass of tepid punch, she slipped out onto the balcony.
Marco waited until the crowd had thinned and then stepped through the set of French doors. A number of the male guests were lighting up cigars. No one seemed to notice Kate’s presence. She floated along like a wraith to the back corner, silent, stealthy, as if experienced in stealing unseen through the night.
But he was acutely aware of her. Her expression, her shape. Her scent.
A breeze wafted through the thick ivy, twining faint traces of neroli and wild thyme with the sharp tang of the greenery. Standing behind one of the decorative urns, Marco felt the dampness of the London night seep into his skin. Even the fog and coal smoke couldn’t overpower the delicate fragrance. It stirred… a longing.
For what? His youth and an innocence that could never be recaptured? Things like carefree laughter. Simple pleasures. Peaceful dreams.
God, what a maudlin mood. He shouldn’t have come here.
A mizzle of moonlight angled off the walls of pale Portland stone, the soft light catching Kate’s upturned face. She seemed to be watching the stars play hide-and-seek with the scudding clouds. In the unguarded moment, she looked achingly young and vulnerable.
Much as he knew he should leave, Marco couldn’t drag his gaze away. Luna, the Goddess of the Moon, had him ensnared in her silvery spell. Shadows flickered in and out of Kate’s hiding place, forcing him to move a step closer in order to keep her in view.
Strange, but her beauty was hard to define. Her nose was not quite straight, her eyes had an exotic slant, and her mouth was a little too wide, a little too strong. Yet the effect on him was impossible to shake off. She was unique. Individual.
So… alive. Passion seemed to radiate from every pore.
He knew she cared deeply about her intellectual pursuits, and he envied her that sense of purpose. His own covert work with the British government was a source of some satisfaction. But for the most part, he wasted his time in idle dissolution.
Damn her for reminding him of the void. It made him uncertain. Angry.
But at least he understood anger. It stirred a spark of heat to his blood, helping to drown far more chilling emotions. Dragging his gaze down the shapely curves of her silhouette, he told himself that provoking her was just another idle game. A way to keep his inner demons occupied.
Marco looked around, and seeing that no one was near, he quickly crossed the marble tiles. “Enjoying the evening, bella?”
Startled, Kate fell back a step.
“Don Juan is a very wicked man, is he not?” he murmured, making reference to the Mozart opera arias. “He should be a lesson to all young ladies that the world is fraught with danger.” Sidling closer, he added, “So you ought not venture into dark corners at night. Especially when you are alone and unprotected.”
“Thank you for your concern, sir,” she replied slowly. “But I can take care of myself.”
“Ah, yes, the iron fist in the velvet glove.” Marco brushed the back of his knuckles along her jawline. “You throw a very pretty punch, cara. However, I must warn you that it wouldn’t prevent a true cad from having his way with you.”
Kate recoiled. “There are other ways to stop a man in his tracks.”
“There are,” he agreed, edging closer. “For example, if you were to hook your finger in your bodice and inch it down to give me a peek at your perfectly shaped curves, I would find myself riveted to the stones.”
Kate touched her tongue to her lower lip.
“Ah, do that again,” he murmured. “It’s incredibly provocative.”
“As if you need any provocation for playing your wicked games,” she rasped.
“This is only light foreplay, bella. If I chose to be truly wicked, you wouldn’t still be wearing your clothes.”
A muscle jumped on her jaw.
“Though it is a lovely gown,” he went on in a whisper. “The fabric is exquisite and the cut flatters your figure. I particularly like the way the bodice accentuates your beautiful breasts and creates an enticing cleavage.”
“Stop it.” Though she tried to sound firm, her voice was a little ragged around the edges.
“Why? Because it is making your nipples harden?” Marco dropped his voice a notch. “Do I arouse your innermost naughty instincts?”
Kate quickly crossed her arms over her chest and slid a step deeper into the shadows. “You are an uncivilized beast.”
“And yet you respond to me. What does that make you, Miss Woodbridge?”
Her