When a Rogue Meets His Match - Elizabeth Hoyt Page 0,135
this man insisted on meddling in her craft. Yet…
I will not leave you.
The way he said those words made her knees wobbly and sent a tide of longing flooding through her. It filled the vast caverns in her soul that had been carved out by too many years of loneliness. Everyone left her eventually, through choice or circumstance, but in this moment she wanted to believe him. In him.
He closed the gap between them, his footsteps muffled by the snow. “I’ll not interfere, merely observe. I need you to…” He trailed off, clearly struggling for words.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth. A snowflake landed on his upper lip, starting to melt almost instantly. She wondered what it might feel like to kiss this man. To press her lips to the place where that snowflake had disappeared. To run her hands over his skin, feel the hard strength of his muscles as he moved against her—
She tore her gaze from his mouth, aware her breathing had become somewhat erratic. She met his eyes and then forgot to breathe altogether. He was looking at her with a heat that should have melted the snow where they stood. Those icy-cool eyes of his had ignited into blue flames, pinning her where she stood.
He was going to kiss her, she thought hazily, right here in the middle of this snowy street. The anticipation made her entire body thrum with want.
Her fingers brushed the sleeve of his coat. “You need me to what?” she whispered.
King started and suddenly stepped back. He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “You need to remember what is at stake here,” he said harshly. “And you need to remember that you work for me.”
Whatever fantasies Adeline had been entertaining burst like a bubble.
“I have not forgotten,” she said, turning toward the door to hide the uncomfortable flush that was burning across her cheeks. She had never, in all her life, mixed business with pleasure. She would not start now, no matter how enthralling or provocative this man might be.
Adeline reached for the door and yanked it open. She was immediately enveloped in a welcome heat laced with tobacco smoke and perfume. The club opened before her, and while the outside of the building was unremarkable, the inside was anything but. Gleaming floors were almost invisible beneath a wide arrangement of gaming tables surrounded by laughing, chattering crowds of expensively dressed gamblers. Richly papered walls framed two opposite hearths, each with a blazing fire. Liveried servants circulated with silver trays of bottles and glasses.
“You’re going to want this.” King’s voice came from behind her as something soft slid over her eyes.
She managed to resist the urge to spin and yank the offending object from her face. Instead she remained frozen as he adjusted the mask carefully, his fingers working the ribbons at the back of her head. His breath was warm against her exposed nape, the backs of his fingers lingering gently along her neck as he finished.
That simple touch sent currents of desire rippling through her. It made her want to discover just what it might take to ignite the heat that smoldered beneath that cool exterior of his. But she could not afford this sort of distraction if she was to focus on the task at hand. Starting with the fact that she was now wearing yet another mask.
She raised her hand to her face. It was not the same type of mask that she had worn for the auction—this was a decorative affair, feathers affixed to the side, and covered only the upper part of her face. She frowned in confusion. “Does no one in England show their faces in public any longer?”
“The female guests prefer to wear them here. Gambling, especially in an establishment such as this, is not always considered a suitable pastime for women of genteel birth.” His voice was low in her ear.
Adeline glanced at the women in risqué gowns, realizing that the tops of their faces were also covered with ornate and dramatic masks. “Credible deniability,” she murmured.
“I’ve not heard it stated as such, but yes.” King seemed to find that amusing.
Without hesitating, his hands slid down her neck to her throat, deftly working the ties of her cloak. Adeline felt the burn of his touch all the way through her, making her muscles clench and her breath catch. The woolen garment slid easily from her shoulders as he passed it to an approaching footman.