Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(35)

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who I am.”

His thumbs moved slowly over the gloved surface of her inner elbows. “I’ll find out before the night is through.” A waltz began, and she turned in his arms to look at him imploringly. “All right,” he said with a laugh, guiding her back to the dance floor. “Another waltz. And afterward you’ll take off your mask.”

The words gave her an unpleasant start. It was the one threat that would break the magic spell wrought over the evening. Sara opened her mouth to tell him no, and then thought better of it. A denial would only make him determined. “Why?” she asked instead, making her voice provocative.

“I want to see your face.”

“I’ll tell you about my face instead. Two eyes, a nose, a mouth…”

“A beautiful mouth.” His fingertip drifted over her lower lip with a light touch that she could have mistaken for a kiss, had her eyes been closed.

The vague smugness Sara had felt at being clever enough to fool him was gone, dissolving in a rush of warmth. She was drunk. “In one’s cups” was the way her father had always put it. Yes, very much in her cups. That was the explanation for the aching emotions that surged within her. Tonight was supposed to be a game, and Derek Craven was nothing but a scoundrel. Why did his touch fill her with such longing? He was the embodiment of all the forbidden delight she would never experience. If only tonight would never end…If only Perry would hold her like this sometimes…If only…

“I want to dance for a long, long time,” she heard herself say.

He took her into his arms and stared down at her intently. “Anything you want.”

Derek didn’t think he would be able to take his hands from her when the waltz ended. He couldn’t risk letting go of her, the one gift Providence had ever seen fit to bestow on him. Everything else he’d had to work, suffer, steal, and cheat for. It had all required effort. But she had simply appeared, like a perfect fruit dropping from a tree into his outstretched hands. He was almost light-headed with desire. She must have felt it too. Her responses dwindled to wordless murmurs as she stared at him through the mask. She was beautiful, experienced, and worldly enough to understand and accept the terms he offered. Not like the other one. Not like the fine, innocent lady who was as different from him as ice from fire.

The hour grew late, and the club was strained at the seams. More guests had arrived, contributing to the happy mayhem. Couples were formed as lords, ladies, rakes, and prostitutes each sought a partner for the night. Usually Sara would have been shocked by the ribald jokes tossed back and forth, but a liberal quantity of alcohol had painted a rosy glow over the scene. She laughed at the lusty sallies she heard, even the ones she didn’t understand. Frequently she was jostled against Derek in the crowded room, until he drew her to a more sheltered spot beside one of the marble columns. Sara was beseiged by invitations to dance, but Derek warded them all off with sardonic amusement. He had claimed her for the evening, and he had no trouble making it clear to those who tried to encroach on his territory.

“I don’t recall giving you exclusive rights to my company,” Sara said, nestled in the crook of his shoulder. She could feel the steady beat of his heart right against her breast, and the incredible strength of his body. The scent of brandy, the starch in his cravat, and the fragrance of his tanned skin formed a heady mixture.

Derek looked down at her with a grin. “Do you want to be with someone else?”

Sara considered that. “No,” she said with a catch in her voice. “No one else in the world.” It was the truth. There was only tonight…that was all she would ever have with him. She met his searching eyes and touched the lapel of his coat, smoothing it needlessly. In some distant corner of her mind a scolding voice intruded on the moment…Here she was, cavorting in a palace of sin with a scoundrel…

A scoundrel who was about to kiss her.

His fingers threaded through her curls, disarranging her hair, cupping the back of her head in a secure grip. There was the rasp of silk and velvet as the edges of their masks brushed, and then his mouth found hers. At first the kiss was cool and gentle. He took his time, tasting, slowly turning his lips over hers. Sara couldn’t help thinking for a surprised moment that his kisses were rather like Perry’s.

But it all changed in a quicksilver moment. His mouth became searingly hot, rubbing over hers until her lips were forced open. Sara quivered with astonishment at the intrusion of his tongue. Was this how other people kissed? Confounded by the intimacy, she pushed at his chest until he lifted his head and looked at her. There were flares in the depths of his eyes, like small, intense rushlights.

“N-not in front of everyone,” she said, waving an unsteady hand at the crowd. The excuse was a feeble one. Not one pair of eyes was focused on them. All the revelers were absorbed in their own flirtations. Obligingly Derek linked his fingers around her gloved wrist and pulled her away with him, out of the central room, past the dining and card rooms, farther away until the music and chatter blended to a quiet drone. Sara stumbled after him, her grogginess clearing away. “Where…” was all she could manage to say as they strode along the hallway.

“To the back rooms.”

“I…don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His pace didn’t ease. “We need privacy.”