Page 52 of Almost A Scoundrel

Phaedra grinned. “It’s what I’m wearing beneath that won’t do.”

His eyes met hers. “Christ, Phaedra. You can’t say that to a man.”

She chuckled. “So where is this ball you wish to whisk me off to?”

“I’m not sure you are dressed for the occasion,” Deerhurst half said, half muttered.

She laughed. “Oh, come on. As you’ve said, it’s a masked ball.” Excitement unfurled in her breast. “But if anyone recognizes me, I might as well not return home. My mother will have my head.”

“Rest assured, no one will recognize you at this ball, and if they do, no one will dare breathe a word.”

Intrigued, Phaedra reached for the mask. She had heard married ladies whisper about these sorts of clandestine balls in hushed tones at soirées before. She’d always been curious but never thought she’d attend one of them.

“Why Deerhurst, I’m not sure whether I should be thrilled or worried that you thought to escort me to one of these balls.”

“After Hyde Park, I thought you might be in need of some adventure.”

Phaedra inhaled the clean scent of Deerhurst, that familiar prickle traveling across her skin again. “You have perfect timing indeed. I’m indeed in need of a rousing distraction.” And perhaps a chance to figure out what these wagers were about. Plus, hadn’t Aunt Portia encouraged her to have some fun? At least that was how Phaedra chose to see it. Deerhurst’s invitation to this ball was just the thing.

She dangled the mask from her fingertip. “Will you help me secure it?” She turned to give him her partial back.

“Of course,” his deep voice came.

Phaedra shivered as his hand covered hers, taking the mask from her. She wore no gloves, neither did he, and the heat of his touch burned through her skin.

A shiver trickled down her spine and back up as he secured the mask, his touch hovering a moment longer than it ought to have. Every movement seemed deliberate, slow, and gentle, and cast a spell over her. Her pulse beat frantically in her breast. It had recognized the magic of the moment before Phaedra had.

When he pulled the strings tight, she turned back to face him, startled by the emptiness that followed the withdrawal of his touch.

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering why her voice suddenly felt so shaky. Then she realized... his touch had been sensual. Perhaps evencarnal.

She felt her face flush. She should never have looked up that word. Now it would be forever stuck in the forefront of her mind.

“I have rules for tonight,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice. Phaedra’s body reacted to that alluring note by breaking out in another round of gooseflesh.

“Oh?” Phaedra murmured. More intrigue.

“You will not leave my side,” Deerhurst said. “No matter what.”

Phaedra nodded. She certainly didn’t mind that. She’d plaster herself right up against him if that was what he wanted.

Phaedra smiled, deciding to test his boundaries. “What if I am asked to dance by another gentleman?”

“No dancing with anyone but me.”

Phaedra pursed her lips to keep from breaking out in a stunning grin. “And the other rules?”

“Do not drink or eat anything anyone offers you. In fact, do not accept anything from anyone except me. And also, no smiling at other men. Follow those four simple rules and everything will be fine.”

Amusement filled her. “I’m not allowed to smile at other men?”

“Your smile is very recognizable.”

Phaedra flashed him that smile. “Really?”

He cursed.

“What about you?” she asked. “This seems like a lot of responsibility you’re taking on, catering to my every need.”