Behind the Mask by Elizabeth D. Michaels

you get inside.”
    “Why?” she demanded, in no mood for any further complication in her life.
    He smirked. “You have company.”
    “Who?” she asked tersely.
    “The Duke of Horstberg,” he replied with mock grandeur, but Abbi was too startled by thoughts of her visitor to give a response.
    In the weeks since she had last seen Nikolaus du Woernig, Abbi had explored many thoughts and emotions related to him, bringing her to the conclusion that she was confused more than anything. Walking toward the house where she knew he was waiting, she felt her indignation toward him mingle with an intense desire to see him. She wasn’t certain whether she wanted to give him a piece of her mind, or experience what he had proven capable of doing to her senses when he kissed her.
    Coming quietly into the drawing room, Abbi was able to get a glimpse of Nikolaus before he realized she was there. Her heart quickened at the sight of him. The clothes he wore were striking. His sleek hair caught the light as he turned toward her, and his dark eyes bored into her without shame.
    “Ah, Abbi, my sweet.” He smiled devilishly, then swept across the room to take her into his arms. Without giving her a chance to say anything, he put his mouth over hers with a kiss that heightened her confusion. He pulled away looking pleased with himself, but his expression turned to dismay when he met the scorn in her eyes.
    “What is the matter, Abbi?” he asked. “I thought you’d be glad to see me. I’ve been so busy, but I . . .”
    “Your memory serves you poorly, Your Grace,” she said.
    Nikolaus looked stunned, apparently recalling just now that she had been angry with him when they’d last parted. But he smiled and her heart quickened. “My being caught up in the passion incited by your presence, my dear, is hardly something for you to be angry over.” He pulled her closer and brushed his lips over the side of her face. “You can hardly blame me for that when you consider the effect you have on me.”
    Abbi attempted to defend her anger but knew she didn’t sound very convincing as she murmured, “I’m simply not ready for . . . such things.”
    “That’s not what your kisses told me,” he whispered. “You can’t blame a man for responding to something so pleasurable.”
    Abbi couldn’t help wondering if perhaps she had inadvertently led him to believe such a thing. If so, then what had happened was as much her fault as his. “I didn’t mean to,” she said and he smiled again, leaving her almost heady.
    “I’ll forgive you,” he said with a playful smirk before kissing her again. Abbi couldn’t help responding to something so pleasant, but she was careful not to get carried away. “But you must realize,” he said, pulling back only slightly, “now that you’ve given me a taste, I will not be content until I’ve had all of you. One day you will be mine.” His smile was gentle as he touched her chin with his fingertip, and Abbi’s scorn melted in the tingles that ran through her.
    “I’ve missed you,” he said. “Come to the castle and . . .”
    Abbi heard a deep sigh from behind and turned to see Lance standing in the doorway. She’d forgotten how exquisite he looked in that uniform, and there was something powerful about the way he wore the sword and pistol at his sides. He glared at Nikolaus, and Abbi wondered again about the state of their friendship.
    “Come along, Your Grace,” Lance said tonelessly, but it was becoming more apparent that he found this competition distasteful. “We’re supposed to meet with the advisory committee in half an hour.”
    “My sisters have been asking to see you,” Nikolaus said to Abbi. “Perhaps you might come tomorrow, and we could continue our tour as well and . . .”
    “Come along, Nik,” Lance insisted. His gaze shifted to Abbi. “I’ll see you at supper and we’ll catch up. I’ve missed you.”
    “I’ll see you then,” Abbi said. Nikolaus just