One Night With You (The Derrings #3)(10)

Her breathing grew harsh. He pulled back to stare into her masked face again. No distaste there. His stomach knotted at the way her eyes consumed him, as if she could see him and not the scar at all, the real him right down to the marrow of his bones.

Absurd, really. No one knew him. Not a single member of his family, alive or dead. Not a soul existed that he could talk to, share his deepest thoughts. But then, no one had ever fit that description. For a brief moment, a face flashed through his head—a young girl with freckles, scraped knees, and a wild mane of hair never pinned in place. Jane. They had been friends. Confidantes. His heart twisted. Time changed all.

Yet this woman, this stranger with her large eyes peering at him so intently, so starkly, made him feel oddly connected to her. She felt… familiar. She felt like home.

"Why do you look at me as though you know me?" he demanded. "Do you?" She blinked those wide eyes of hers. "No. Of course not."

And why, he wondered, should he care if she did? If they had met, it had been long ago. It could matter little now. He should be working at seducing her out of that scandalous gown and burying himself to the hilt in her sweet body, quenching the maddening lust she had roused within him. Once he sampled her charms, he would see she was no different from any other woman. She gave a small shake, as if caught in some kind of daze and needing to jog sense back into herself. Her gaze drifted beyond him, over his shoulder.

Sensing the moment had arrived when she would take flight, he grasped her arms and pulled her back to him. Her eyes flared wide and she trembled against his length.

"You don't have to go," Seth murmured, then, incredibly, added, "Please." Staring at this creature that had awakened desire in him, he felt unbalanced, as if he hovered along a great precipice, waiting to see whether or not he would drop like a stone through the air.

"I can't," she replied in a ragged voice that ripped through him. Again, he had asked.

Again, he had been refused.

Some lessons were never learned.

Still, he could not let her go. Not until he knew something about the sadness in her eyes, something about the way she looked at him. His grip tightened on her arms. Ridiculous as it seemed, he would uncover the mystery of her, would know everything about her before they were finished.

Starting with what she looked like out of her gown.

"Come, this is a masquerade. A place where one can cease to exist." His fingers caught hers gently and twined with the slender digits. "You can do anything you want, be anyone you want to be," he coaxed.

She shook her head stubbornly.

"Then why are you here?" he challenged. "Why don a mask and come here tonight?"

"I can't—" she began, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips. Soft lips. Intent on seduction, he traced her plump bottom lip, learning its texture, its shape.

Her mouth parted and he dipped his thumb within, stroking the moist heat of her mouth, running the pad of his thumb over her tongue.

Her eyes widened.

Unable to stop himself, he lifted his other hand to remove the black fabric covering the top half of her face.

In a flash, she turned wild, struggling like a trapped animal in his arms. He hauled her against him, smothering her mouth with his. Her body stilled in his arms, soft lips frozen beneath his. His kiss gentled, coaxing a reaction.

Her mouth softened, lips parting beneath his with a sweet sigh. She wound her arms around his neck, raising herself on tiptoes, soft curves melting against him.

Groaning into her mouth, he lifted her off the ground, deepening the kiss, drinking from her mouth like a man starved, swallowing her tiny mews as if they were the sweetest sips of wine. One of her slippers slid along his booted calf and he groaned, wishing it were her bare foot, wishing they were unclothed, flat on a bed. A sudden, burning need to strip off their garments seized him. To see her without the scandalous gold gown, without the black domino, to see her face, her expression in all its passion for him as he sank deep inside her. Stranger or no, he felt as if he knew her, recognized her on some primal level. Madness, he knew, especially considering he did not know her. Not her name, not her face. Still, he wanted this woman, his Aurora.

Startled at the comparison, he pulled back and looked at her.

Noses almost touching, their ragged breaths mingled, congesting the air as he gazed into eyes that reflected an astonishment similar to his own. In them, a deep need burned, echoing his own hunger—a fire that he damned well intended to stoke to its highest flame.





Chapter 6


Seth reclaimed her lips, helpless to prevent his desire for this woman from spiraling through him with the speed of a firestorm. She had awakened something within him, ignited a dark burn in his blood he was powerless to resist.

Hands diving through her flowing hair, he angled her head for better invasion and forgot that passion—recklessness—ceased to rule him. Forgot that women had little affect on him. Forgot that he deserved only emptiness in his life.

With a moan of her own, she clenched fistfuls of his jacket, pulling him closer. Growling, he dropped one hand to her backside and pulled her hard against him, grinding himself against the softness of her belly, reveling in the freeing of himself from the fog that gripped him these many years.

Suddenly, the door clicked open behind him.

He tore his lips free as Fleur entered the room.