The Rake's Mistress by Nicola Cornick Page B

mask. ‘As I said, I am the lady tonight, sir.’
    ‘Ah, I see. The lady. Respectable, virtuous and, oh, so untouchable…’ His lips brushed her bare shoulder and the heat ripped through her with shocking intensity. It was all that she could do not to jerk away.
    ‘And what is your role tonight, sir?’ she asked, her voice a little breathless.
    Once again she had the impression that the black domino was smiling. ‘Can you not tell, madam?’ he asked gently.
    Rebecca shivered. ‘The rake? The seducer?’
    ‘You injure me,’ the black domino said, and this time the laughter was clear in his voice. ‘After rescuing you from Fremantle, do you not cast me as the protector of innocence, my lady?’
    Rebecca shot a look at him from behind her mask. It was impossible to tell whether he had recognisedher, for the mask hid everything but his eyes and their expression were unreadable. She felt her nerves tighten with a mixture of excitement and vivid apprehension. As though sensing the pulsing exhil-aration within her, his arm hardened about her waist and he drew her close against his body. She could feel the desire and the latent power in him and almost stumbled and fell.
    It seemed that dancing was not his aim after all. He drew her into an alcove that was tucked away from the ballroom. It was draped with golden hangings and furnished with a gold brocade love-seat. The black domino seized two glasses of wine from a passing waiter and handed one to her, guiding her to the seat. Rebecca looked at her wine dubiously.
    ‘I do not think this a very good idea, sir.’
    ‘Why so?’
    ‘The wine is remarkably strong and I am…’ Rebecca hesitated ‘… I am tired.’
    ‘I will take care of you,’ the black domino said.
    That was precisely what Rebecca was afraid of. He was sitting very close to her, his thigh pressing intimately against hers within the narrow confines of the seat. Suddenly the rub of the slippery silk against her skin seemed almost unbearably sensual. She shifted uncomfortably, aware that it had been her intention to escape him as soon as she could, yet even now she was contradicting her own goodsense by lingering too long. Already she had no urge to break free.
    ‘Tell me who you are,’ the black domino said softly, persuasively, in her ear.
    ‘Certainly not.’ Rebecca turned her face away. ‘There are no names at a masquerade, sir.’
    He put a gloved hand lightly beneath her chin and turned her face to his. His touch was light, but it set her feelings blazing. That shadowed gaze scrutinised her with unnerving closeness.
    ‘Hmm,’ he murmured. ‘Peerless blue eyes and a mouth made for kissing… I could almost swear that we had met before, perhaps even kissed before, my lady.’
    Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat. ‘You seem very certain, sir.’
    ‘Not so certain that I would not like to put my theory to the test. For then I would know…’
    He was leaning forward to suit actions to words, but Rebecca eased herself from his grip and placed a hand against his chest to hold him off.
    ‘Not so fast, my lord!’
    ‘Such modesty at a midnight masque,’ the black domino said, with a sardonic look at the couples that whirled past them in debauched abandon. He ran one finger thoughtfully down her bare arm above her glove. Rebecca could feel her skin responding to his touch, tingling beneath the caress.
    ‘So who are you, madam, if not a lady of the night?’
    ‘Did I say that I was no courtesan?’ Rebecca said, a little huskily.
    ‘You did not need to tell me, sweetheart.’
    ‘Once again, you sound very confident, sir. You must have a great deal of experience of such matters.’
    ‘I have enough,’ the black domino agreed, ‘and were I to kiss you, your innocence would be something else I could prove.’
    ‘Then the matter must remain unproven,’ Rebecca said.
    The black domino smiled. ‘So what is Lord Fremantle to you, madam?’
    Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. The more they spoke