on her features, he would have got to his feet and returned to the search. But in the candlelight, her beautiful face glowed, just as when he’d first seen her, like a beacon in the dark that he could not ignore.
Her hood was thrown back, revealing wisps ofgolden hair that escaped their confinement to catch the light. Her usual cool expression was gone, her eyes heavy lidded, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed. Abruptly, Kit realized that he was bent over her, his chest nearly touching hers, his mouth only inches away from her own.
Without pausing to consider his actions, Kit lowered his head to brush his lips against hers, tasting, exploring and delighting in the soft curves. Beneath him, he heard Hero’s low hum of surprised pleasure, and he smiled. For one long moment, they were in agreement, savoring their shared sense of discovery and the heat that flowed between them.
But even in his current state, Kit recognized a potential firestorm, and he pulled back slightly. Lifting his hand to Hero’s throat, he stroked his thumb against the line of her jaw, teasing the corner of her mouth until it opened for him. Her eyes closed, his formidable companion looked oddly vulnerable, and Kit felt something expand within his chest. Leaning close, he kissed her again, more deeply, as if he could take her inside himself, hold her to him at last…
But this time, Kit heard no sigh of pleasure, only the jarring clang of the clock as it struck midnight. And like Cinderella of the old tales, Hero was transformed by the sound. Nothing turned into a pumpkin, but the warm and willing woman in his arms jerked upright, knocking her temple against his in her haste to escape his embrace. Rising in her wake, Kit rubbed his brow and wondered when his head had last suffered such repeated abuse.
“Are you all right?” he asked. But Hero was alreadyreaching for the books, her mask and domino in place, the telltale trembling of a hand the only sign of what had happened between them.
Kit was slower to recover, but it didn’t take him long to realize the ramifications of his behavior. Rising to his feet, he returned to the search, cursing himself. He had been thrown together with Hero in more than one intimate situation, with just her coolness and his restraint standing between them. Yet when her coolness had wavered, his restraint had disappeared, and he had only himself to blame. Wasn’t he supposed to be a gentleman?
“Now, isn’t this interesting.”
Kit swung round at the sound of speech. He looked at Hero, but she, too, had stiffened, and a quick glance at the door revealed that it held fast, the chair firmly lodged against it. Eyes narrowing, Kit scanned the room and was surprised to see a figure in a shadowed corner. Had it been there all along, unnoticed?
“You may bar the door of my own library against me, but I have more than one way to enter nearly every room in this house,” the figure said, stepping forward. Behind him a section of decorative panel clicked shut, revealing the manner of his access.
Kit felt a moment’s relief that the man had not been present earlier, but his appearance was still daunting, and his words had Kit thinking fast.
“My lord,” Kit said, bowing slightly.
“You may call me your Grace, as I am good King Henry for this eve,” the Earl of Cheswick said, with a regal nod. He was dressed in enormous purple robes trimmed in fur and wore a crown, presumably not ofpure gold, upon his head, and surveyed them with a jaundiced eye.
“And who might you be?”
“I am but a simple Domino, your Grace,” Hero said, in a deep voice. “And this is Harlequin.”
The earl laughed as he moved farther into the light. “My dear young woman, I assure you that I can tell the difference between a youth and a maid,” he said, waving about the sceptre he held in one hand as he paused to study them more closely. “Well, aren’t you the loveliest couple.”
“We’re siblings.”
“We’re
Her hood was thrown back, revealing wisps ofgolden hair that escaped their confinement to catch the light. Her usual cool expression was gone, her eyes heavy lidded, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed. Abruptly, Kit realized that he was bent over her, his chest nearly touching hers, his mouth only inches away from her own.
Without pausing to consider his actions, Kit lowered his head to brush his lips against hers, tasting, exploring and delighting in the soft curves. Beneath him, he heard Hero’s low hum of surprised pleasure, and he smiled. For one long moment, they were in agreement, savoring their shared sense of discovery and the heat that flowed between them.
But even in his current state, Kit recognized a potential firestorm, and he pulled back slightly. Lifting his hand to Hero’s throat, he stroked his thumb against the line of her jaw, teasing the corner of her mouth until it opened for him. Her eyes closed, his formidable companion looked oddly vulnerable, and Kit felt something expand within his chest. Leaning close, he kissed her again, more deeply, as if he could take her inside himself, hold her to him at last…
But this time, Kit heard no sigh of pleasure, only the jarring clang of the clock as it struck midnight. And like Cinderella of the old tales, Hero was transformed by the sound. Nothing turned into a pumpkin, but the warm and willing woman in his arms jerked upright, knocking her temple against his in her haste to escape his embrace. Rising in her wake, Kit rubbed his brow and wondered when his head had last suffered such repeated abuse.
“Are you all right?” he asked. But Hero was alreadyreaching for the books, her mask and domino in place, the telltale trembling of a hand the only sign of what had happened between them.
Kit was slower to recover, but it didn’t take him long to realize the ramifications of his behavior. Rising to his feet, he returned to the search, cursing himself. He had been thrown together with Hero in more than one intimate situation, with just her coolness and his restraint standing between them. Yet when her coolness had wavered, his restraint had disappeared, and he had only himself to blame. Wasn’t he supposed to be a gentleman?
“Now, isn’t this interesting.”
Kit swung round at the sound of speech. He looked at Hero, but she, too, had stiffened, and a quick glance at the door revealed that it held fast, the chair firmly lodged against it. Eyes narrowing, Kit scanned the room and was surprised to see a figure in a shadowed corner. Had it been there all along, unnoticed?
“You may bar the door of my own library against me, but I have more than one way to enter nearly every room in this house,” the figure said, stepping forward. Behind him a section of decorative panel clicked shut, revealing the manner of his access.
Kit felt a moment’s relief that the man had not been present earlier, but his appearance was still daunting, and his words had Kit thinking fast.
“My lord,” Kit said, bowing slightly.
“You may call me your Grace, as I am good King Henry for this eve,” the Earl of Cheswick said, with a regal nod. He was dressed in enormous purple robes trimmed in fur and wore a crown, presumably not ofpure gold, upon his head, and surveyed them with a jaundiced eye.
“And who might you be?”
“I am but a simple Domino, your Grace,” Hero said, in a deep voice. “And this is Harlequin.”
The earl laughed as he moved farther into the light. “My dear young woman, I assure you that I can tell the difference between a youth and a maid,” he said, waving about the sceptre he held in one hand as he paused to study them more closely. “Well, aren’t you the loveliest couple.”
“We’re siblings.”
“We’re
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