about in a most undignified manner. He was afraid his murmured apologies never escaped the confines of the mask. The light from the ballroom reached beyond the terrace before fading into the dark night. He thought he spied a path that led away from the crowds and eagerly sought it out. The farther he walked along the path, the sooner the music provided by the ballroom orchestra became replaced with the faint soothing sound of ocean waves meeting stone. Such a clean, refreshing sound. William reached up and removed the mask, letting the late summer breezes rejuvenate him as well. The moon shimmered on the undulating swells, making him feel small and insignificant: a simple man, not a duke with the weight of a dynasty on his shoulders.
“It’s beautiful out here, is it not?” A woman’s voice interrupted his reverie.
At first, William didn’t respond, believing the woman’s question must be directed to a gentleman who might have accompanied her. He could well imagine a man’s motives on bringing a lady to such a secluded spot. A smile teased his lips. Some things remained the same on both sides of the Atlantic. He stole a glance in the direction of the amorous couple.
However, there was no couple. Just a goddess wrapped in bed linens. His breath caught. Moonlight shimmered on a copper crown on her head, giving the illusion of a halo to the heavenly presence beneath. The drape of the cloth hid her body but the comely shape of her face and shoulders suggested a form of equally pleasing proportions. The ocean breeze tugged at the folds of cloth, and he found himself wishing for a bit of a gale.
She stepped closer accompanied by the fresh scent of the gardenias. He longed to touch her, to feel if she were real or just a figment of his imagination.
“It’s so peaceful away from the crowds, away from prying eyes.”
This time he knew she spoke to him and to him alone, yet he was afraid he would sound like a bumbling idiot if he chanced to open his mouth. Her eyes skimmed his face and briefly settled on his lips as if she recognized his difficulty. She lowered her gaze to the hideous frog head, and broke into a soft, pleasing laugh.
“I saw you earlier. You arrived about the same time as the Duke, did you not?”
He nodded. Where had she come from? He couldn’t recall hearing footsteps behind him, and he certainly didn’t see her before she announced her presence. Such an appealing woman shouldn’t be alone out here, in the dark.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I hadn’t meant to disturb you.” He glanced about, looking for a matron or a chaperone hidden in the shadows. “In fact, I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “You’ve an accent. You’re British. I suppose it wasn’t just coincidence that you arrived with the Duke. Are you a close friend?”
“Well, yes actually.” He silenced the soft chuckle that rose to his lips, but couldn’t suppress the resulting smile. Little did she know just how well he knew the Duke.
She stepped nearer. In spite of the ocean breeze and the lack of the stifling frog mask, a bead of sweat ran between his shoulder blades beneath his shirt. There was something familiar about the girl, though he couldn’t recall having met such a vision with her long finger curls, and dressed in such a titillating fashion among the many introductions he’d borne of late. The nymph moved so close a mere inch separated his knuckle from the hardened nub pressing through the silk of her costume. His groin tightened and all memories of recent introductions faded.
“What’s he like?” she asked, her voice innocent yet seductive.
“The Duke?” He forced the words through his constricted throat, resulting in the strangled utterance of an adolescent boy. Control yourself, he silently commanded. Just because such posturing on her part would be tantamount to a sexual invitation in England doesn’t mean society works the same way here. His hand clenched by his
“It’s beautiful out here, is it not?” A woman’s voice interrupted his reverie.
At first, William didn’t respond, believing the woman’s question must be directed to a gentleman who might have accompanied her. He could well imagine a man’s motives on bringing a lady to such a secluded spot. A smile teased his lips. Some things remained the same on both sides of the Atlantic. He stole a glance in the direction of the amorous couple.
However, there was no couple. Just a goddess wrapped in bed linens. His breath caught. Moonlight shimmered on a copper crown on her head, giving the illusion of a halo to the heavenly presence beneath. The drape of the cloth hid her body but the comely shape of her face and shoulders suggested a form of equally pleasing proportions. The ocean breeze tugged at the folds of cloth, and he found himself wishing for a bit of a gale.
She stepped closer accompanied by the fresh scent of the gardenias. He longed to touch her, to feel if she were real or just a figment of his imagination.
“It’s so peaceful away from the crowds, away from prying eyes.”
This time he knew she spoke to him and to him alone, yet he was afraid he would sound like a bumbling idiot if he chanced to open his mouth. Her eyes skimmed his face and briefly settled on his lips as if she recognized his difficulty. She lowered her gaze to the hideous frog head, and broke into a soft, pleasing laugh.
“I saw you earlier. You arrived about the same time as the Duke, did you not?”
He nodded. Where had she come from? He couldn’t recall hearing footsteps behind him, and he certainly didn’t see her before she announced her presence. Such an appealing woman shouldn’t be alone out here, in the dark.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I hadn’t meant to disturb you.” He glanced about, looking for a matron or a chaperone hidden in the shadows. “In fact, I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “You’ve an accent. You’re British. I suppose it wasn’t just coincidence that you arrived with the Duke. Are you a close friend?”
“Well, yes actually.” He silenced the soft chuckle that rose to his lips, but couldn’t suppress the resulting smile. Little did she know just how well he knew the Duke.
She stepped nearer. In spite of the ocean breeze and the lack of the stifling frog mask, a bead of sweat ran between his shoulder blades beneath his shirt. There was something familiar about the girl, though he couldn’t recall having met such a vision with her long finger curls, and dressed in such a titillating fashion among the many introductions he’d borne of late. The nymph moved so close a mere inch separated his knuckle from the hardened nub pressing through the silk of her costume. His groin tightened and all memories of recent introductions faded.
“What’s he like?” she asked, her voice innocent yet seductive.
“The Duke?” He forced the words through his constricted throat, resulting in the strangled utterance of an adolescent boy. Control yourself, he silently commanded. Just because such posturing on her part would be tantamount to a sexual invitation in England doesn’t mean society works the same way here. His hand clenched by his
Similar Books
