Masquerade (Scandalous Ballroom Encounters Book 1) by Victoria Vale

her. He then tugged at the ribbons holding her mask in place. She reached up to pull it away, glancing up at him with an expectant stare. Despite the intimacies they’d shared, she was afraid he would not find her as enchanting without it.
    Unmasked, she’d become plain old Margaret again—a woman Camden had walked past at countless soirées without noticing.
    Her breath caught in her throat when his hand came up to her face, thumb stroking her cheek before finding her lower lip in a gentle caress.
    “Maggie,” he whispered. “How have I managed to go so long without knowing you? I feel certain I could never have forgotten you if we’d met.”
    She swallowed past the lump in her throat, her chest heaving and her breath racing between her parted lips.
    “I-I do not know,” she stammered. “We have never been properly introduced, but have attended many of the same functions. B-but, I’m not … that is to say … I am not always so daringly dressed, nor is my father of as high rank as you. We may occupy the same ballrooms on occasion, but we are not within the same circles, I’m afraid.”
    He creased his brow. “Still, it was wretched of me not to notice you. Now that I’ve seen your face, I feel certain I’ll never forget it.”
    A half-smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “You cannot know how long I have wanted this,” she whispered, lowering her eyes.
    His soft chuckle warmed her from the inside out. “Surely, my notice is not worth so much.”
    She shrugged. “For a young debutante prone to flights of romantic whimsy, it is,” she admitted.
    Margaret knew she should not say these things. Beyond this night, she could not fathom anything more coming of their little liaison. To bare her secrets to him would only leave her vulnerable to the pain to be borne when it ended. Yet, she could not stop now that she’d given voice to her deepest desires.
    “You must know how many hearts you’ve stolen just by walking into a room. Many a night, I have watched you take a lady into your arms to waltz with her and wished I could be her. To be so close to you, moving together … to know your scent and your touch …” She paused, realizing she’d said far too much.
    Camden circled behind her, placing his hands upon her shoulders. His lips brushed the back of her neck and she shivered.
    “I cannot deny knowing you have watched me from afar all this time does not bring me pleasure, Maggie,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path toward her ear. “When you watched me with those women, did you wonder if there was more to our association than a simple waltz would suggest?”
    She nodded in response, unable to speak when he nibbled on her neck, teasing the most deliciously sensitive spot just beneath her ear.
    “You wondered if any of them would accompany me home, didn’t you? You thought about what I did to them.”
    She groaned as he took the shell of her ear between his teeth.
    “Yes,” she sighed. “I did.”
    “How did you feel when you thought about it—when you imagined all the wicked things I did to those other ladies?”
    His hands worked at the buttons running down her back, sliding them loose one by one, opening her gown.
    “Jealous,” she admitted.
    He gripped the sleeves of her gown and pulled, lowering it to the floor to pool around her feet. His hands took her waist and he pulled her against him, his lips trailing along her shoulder.
    “Did you fantasize about me, Maggie? Did you wonder what it would be like to be one of them?”
    “I did,” she said, her voice low and husky. “At night, alone in my bed, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it was like to be with you.”
    “Oh, Maggie,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement and mock horror. “Never say you were ever so naughty.”
    She giggled, bit her lower lip, and leaned back against him, resting her head on his chest. “I was.”
    “You touched yourself when you thought about me, didn’t you?” One of his hands slid