grin. As they climbed the stairs, his eyes studied her face and then slowly slid down her body like a warm caress.
“You look so familiar, but I can’t place your face.”
Emma laughed, the sound much throatier than her usual light trill. “Isn’t that the whole point of a masquerade, Joshua?”
He cocked a brow. “I hadn’t thought there would be anyone here I didn’t recognize.”
“You’re awfully confident in your abilities.” She paused in front of the ballroom, waiting for the footmen to draw the doors open. The lilting strains of a waltz poured out to greet them.
“I am,” he agreed as he drew her into the room. There was a decent crowd on the dance floor, but he glided gracefully between them. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, what am I supposed to call you?”
He pulled her into his arms, and Emma silently thanked Aunt Margaret for insisting that both she and Todd take dance lessons—even if it was only to get them out of the house. She followed his lead, skin tingling at the touch of his hands. “I don’t know, Joshua,” she said, breathless, rasping. “Sheila thinks I’m Bertram Scow’s new wife.”
He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side for a second. Then he shook it. “No. Lily Scow isn’t nearly as petite as you are.” His fingers brushed along the curve of her side and rested at her hip briefly.
Emma shivered at the caress. “So, I’m not Lily Scow.” She leaned closer, looking up at him through her lashes, her voice husky and dark. “Who am I, Joshua? Name me.”
Chapter 10
Josh stared down into the mystery woman’s dark brown eyes, feet moving mechanically through the steps of the waltz. There was something completely captivating about her. He’d never been so immediately entranced by a woman before. And he’d met and bedded Hollywood starlets whom other men only dreamed about.
He’d been crossing the living room, making his way through the throng toward Ben, snickering at his friend’s fox mask, when he’d first seen her. Though her ruby gown blended in with the sea of red and black, she herself stood out. Her sable hair was piled high atop her head, gleaming beneath the sparkling lights as if sprinkled with diamond dust. Her black lace and red silk mask disguised the curve of her cheekbones and brow ridge, making it difficult to tell the shape of her face. But the curve of her lips was sensual and enticing.
‘Name me’ she’d said in her warm whiskey voice. What he wanted to do was kiss her. More than kiss her. The plunging V-neck of her dress bared the soft inner curves of her breasts. He had no idea how the silky material stayed on, but he wanted desperately to test its tenacity. Beneath his palm, he could feel the heat from her satiny bare skin, since the dress left her entire back bare down to the dip at the base of her spine. This was one of Josh’s favorite spots on a woman, and this sultry exclamation point of a dress framed it perfectly for him.
Not to mention her legs. Josh spared a brief glance downward as they waltzed, watching the asymmetrical hem swirl to reveal her left leg almost all the way to her hip. The long, smooth, golden expanse of flesh was enough to send every drop of his blood rushing south.
“I think I prefer Madame Butterfly. Isn’t that what you told Max Hightower to call you?”
She chuckled, the sound a velvet purr. “Have you been watching me, Mr. Owens?” Her left hand slid further up his shoulder, fingertips brushing lightly against the nape of his neck. The hair there stood on end at her delicate touch.
“Most of the men here are,” he replied, his own voice bearing a touch of smoke. She curled her soft fingers around his neck, fingernails scratching gently. Josh inhaled a sharp breath as a needle of heat zinged down his spine.
She batted her long lashes, leaning up to brush her lips against his earlobe. “I’m not
“You look so familiar, but I can’t place your face.”
Emma laughed, the sound much throatier than her usual light trill. “Isn’t that the whole point of a masquerade, Joshua?”
He cocked a brow. “I hadn’t thought there would be anyone here I didn’t recognize.”
“You’re awfully confident in your abilities.” She paused in front of the ballroom, waiting for the footmen to draw the doors open. The lilting strains of a waltz poured out to greet them.
“I am,” he agreed as he drew her into the room. There was a decent crowd on the dance floor, but he glided gracefully between them. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, what am I supposed to call you?”
He pulled her into his arms, and Emma silently thanked Aunt Margaret for insisting that both she and Todd take dance lessons—even if it was only to get them out of the house. She followed his lead, skin tingling at the touch of his hands. “I don’t know, Joshua,” she said, breathless, rasping. “Sheila thinks I’m Bertram Scow’s new wife.”
He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side for a second. Then he shook it. “No. Lily Scow isn’t nearly as petite as you are.” His fingers brushed along the curve of her side and rested at her hip briefly.
Emma shivered at the caress. “So, I’m not Lily Scow.” She leaned closer, looking up at him through her lashes, her voice husky and dark. “Who am I, Joshua? Name me.”
Chapter 10
Josh stared down into the mystery woman’s dark brown eyes, feet moving mechanically through the steps of the waltz. There was something completely captivating about her. He’d never been so immediately entranced by a woman before. And he’d met and bedded Hollywood starlets whom other men only dreamed about.
He’d been crossing the living room, making his way through the throng toward Ben, snickering at his friend’s fox mask, when he’d first seen her. Though her ruby gown blended in with the sea of red and black, she herself stood out. Her sable hair was piled high atop her head, gleaming beneath the sparkling lights as if sprinkled with diamond dust. Her black lace and red silk mask disguised the curve of her cheekbones and brow ridge, making it difficult to tell the shape of her face. But the curve of her lips was sensual and enticing.
‘Name me’ she’d said in her warm whiskey voice. What he wanted to do was kiss her. More than kiss her. The plunging V-neck of her dress bared the soft inner curves of her breasts. He had no idea how the silky material stayed on, but he wanted desperately to test its tenacity. Beneath his palm, he could feel the heat from her satiny bare skin, since the dress left her entire back bare down to the dip at the base of her spine. This was one of Josh’s favorite spots on a woman, and this sultry exclamation point of a dress framed it perfectly for him.
Not to mention her legs. Josh spared a brief glance downward as they waltzed, watching the asymmetrical hem swirl to reveal her left leg almost all the way to her hip. The long, smooth, golden expanse of flesh was enough to send every drop of his blood rushing south.
“I think I prefer Madame Butterfly. Isn’t that what you told Max Hightower to call you?”
She chuckled, the sound a velvet purr. “Have you been watching me, Mr. Owens?” Her left hand slid further up his shoulder, fingertips brushing lightly against the nape of his neck. The hair there stood on end at her delicate touch.
“Most of the men here are,” he replied, his own voice bearing a touch of smoke. She curled her soft fingers around his neck, fingernails scratching gently. Josh inhaled a sharp breath as a needle of heat zinged down his spine.
She batted her long lashes, leaning up to brush her lips against his earlobe. “I’m not
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