Page 35 of Duke of Wickedness (Regency Gods #4)

A riadne couldn’t stop touching her gown.

The top was a verdant silk, a little greener than the shade she’d worn the other night, though there were a few of those nefarious little strips that were a touch bluer than the others, creating an effect that would have been like rippling water if not for the unmistakable bird motif.

Maybe it should have seemed silly, this loyalty to the nickname he had given her, but she was…charmed.

And the skirts were lighter than air. They were a cascade of wide strips that were like ribbons. They were close enough together that they looked like a cohesive skirt, but when she moved, each step threatened to reveal bare leg.

Threatened to reveal it, but never did.

“This is a very pretty dress, David,” she said, almost shyly. “I really, really love it.”

“It scarcely does you justice, Ari,” he murmured to her as he led her over to a balcony. “Nobody will be able to keep your eyes off of you.”

She looked down over the balcony, where people were milling, laughing, sipping champagne.

He guided Ariadne to stand pressed against the railing, then came up behind her, his warmth a steady presence at her back.

“I am being a terrible host by not going down to welcome everyone,” he admitted.

“But I find that I do not care in the least. This party isn’t for them, my sweet.

” He pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder.

The cut of the gown let the faintest hint of the lace on her undergarments peek out, and his breath ruffled the threads, making them tickle her skin. “It’s for you. All of it.”

It was a nice sentiment. A lovely sentiment. He’d gone to so much trouble just to give her what she wanted.

So why did she feel like she might cry?

She shook aside that thought and focused on the milling crowd below.

“Here is what is going to happen,” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder, touching his cheek to her cheek as he wove the spell for her.

“We are going to go down to the party. And you… You are going to have whatever you want. If you want someone to touch you, they touch you. If you don’t, they don’t. ”

She sucked in a breath. She hadn’t prepared for the idea of someone else touching her. She wasn’t certain how she felt about it.

But maybe that was the answer. Maybe that would help her get David out of her head.

She had to at least consider.

But…

“They might not want me,” she said. She knew, without question, that nobody here would be asked to do something they didn’t want.

But David only laughed, low and deep enough that she felt the rumble where he was pressed against her.

“Trust me, little bird,” he said. “That will not be a problem. The choice is yours. All yours.”

He let her sit with this notion for a moment. They both watched as two ladies flirted with a man who looked simply delighted to be between them, his head moving from one to the other as they bantered and teased.

“Are you ready?” he asked her after a moment.

She took a deep breath, then nodded. She still wasn’t certain what she wanted—no, that wasn’t true, she did know what she wanted, she was just afraid that she oughtn’t want it, or that wanting it would cause her more trouble than she was prepared to take on—but she was brave enough to descend into the joyous chaos below.

“Yes,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Just as David had predicted, heads turned in Ariadne’s direction as they descended the stairs, and more than one appreciative glance was shot her way.

“You know, mate, it isn’t fair that you get to have such a beautiful lady on your arm just because you’re the host,” a gentleman quipped as they passed where he was lounging against another man, who was also admiring Ariadne.

“It’s the lady’s choice, as you well know,” David returned. “If you want to charm her, you’ll just have to try harder.”

“When you tire of this scoundrel, come to us,” the gentleman said without missing a beat. “You might look at my hair and think that I am too old for such a pretty lady, but consider, miss, that I am gifted with wisdom .”

“And he isn’t old where it counts,” the younger man added slyly, reaching a hand toward his partner’s lap, lest Ariadne risk missing his meaning.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said with a laugh, because really, there was no other reaction to their incorrigible invitation. “But I’m happy where I am.”

She hoped that the words didn’t sound too true.

“Our host has all the luck,” the first gentleman said, which caused his partner to squawk in protest until the older man kissed him soundly, cutting off any arguments.

Ariadne and David left them to it, descending the rest of the way down the stairs.

They moved through the party, attracting many, many looks and a handful of comments, most of which were invitations in the vein of the two gentlemen.

Ariadne laughed and smiled at everyone, but she didn’t accept any of the offers.

They were all given in good spirits—and the rejections were taken in the same manner—and Ariadne found that she had fun laughing and teasing with the crowd.

She didn’t intentionally snub anyone, but when she walked past a man, not realizing that he’d been trying to get her attention, she felt his grasp on her wrist.

He held tight, half jerking her off David’s arm.

“I was talking to you,” the man snarled.

That was as far as he got before he broke off with a yelp, as David grasped one of his fingers, prying it off Ariadne’s wrist and then bending it back until the man had to drop to his knees to avoid the digit breaking.

David wasn’t the only one to leap to Ariadne’s defense; several of the gentlemen nearby also seized the attacker, pulling him back. Even one lady joined in, viciously grabbing a handful of the man’s hair.

None of their vitriol could compete with the icy fury in David’s eyes, however.

“You are going to leave,” he said. “You are never going to come back. And you are going to be grateful that I am not going to ruin you in Society.”

“But—” the man protested.

“Nowhere in that list did I say that you were going to argue with me,” David went on, so dangerously, dangerously calm. “That was your once chance. Try anything else— anything —and you are over.”

The man snapped his mouth shut. This, Ariadne thought, was the first bit of wisdom he had shown yet.

Several footmen, who had proven perfectly impassive whenever Ariadne had passed them over the course of the party, approached, only now allowing themselves to show emotion. It was disgust. Pure disgust.

And it was directed only at the attacker.

She understood that she was likely paying attention to the wrong thing here, at least for just this moment, but it really was so incredible, this place that David had built. A place where the only thing that wasn’t accepted was cruelty.

She ducked her head against a smile as she tucked herself a little closer to David’s side. He didn’t even seem to have to think about it as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him.

“Get him out of here,” David commanded the footmen, who replaced the guests’ restraining grips with their own none-too-gentle hands. Ariadne thought she might have seen the lady yank the attacker’s hair just one last time before she released him.

The remaining partygoers watched, expressions sour with distaste, as the footmen dragged the man from the party. They did not bother to be gentle about it. There was a distinct air of satisfaction in the room as he left.

An air of satisfaction that came from everyone… except for David. Because David, the instant the man was out of arm’s reach, turned to Ariadne and cradled her wrist like he feared even breathing too hard on it would have devastating effects.

“Are you hurt?” he asked fretfully. “Do you need a warm compress? A cold compress?”

She tugged her hand from his grasp, then placed it against his cheek, taking care not to dislodge his mask. After that little display, there was no mistaking David’s identity, but she still wanted to honor the rules of the evening.

“I’m fine,” she told him, not releasing his face until he met her gaze and saw her sincerity. “I promise you.”

He sucked in a breath. It sounded a touch shaky.

“Good,” he said quietly. “I’m… Good.”

The guests’ attention was fading away from the footmen and the protesting former guest, and Ariadne was absently aware that it was drifting back into her attention.

She had already made herself noticeable enough by showing up tonight on David’s arm; she didn’t necessarily want anyone to see this quiet, still moment between them.

But she didn’t want to step away from him, either.

She dropped her hand to his arm, purposeful enough that it caught David’s notice, not so obvious that anyone else would pay attention.

“What do you need?” he asked immediately.

She nibbled the corner of her lip, nervous and excited.

“I don’t want to see anything else downstairs,” she confessed.

Every iota of David stilled. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d even managed to pause his heart beating.

“You don’t?” he asked, so quiet that nobody else could hear.

She shook her head minutely, then gathered her courage.

“The only person I want touching me…is you.”

There had been so many strange moments over this adventure with David—all these little slips in and out of understanding one another, times where they would come together in perfect accord, then others where she felt as though they were occupying entirely different worlds.

But now… This was one of the incredible moments. The ones where even their breathing felt like it was happening in perfect synchronization.

She knew what she wanted. She knew that he knew what she wanted.

And when he looped his arm through hers, she knew that he was going to give it to her.

“Shall we return upstairs?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said lightly, trying to seem as though she wasn’t trembling with nerves inside, “let’s.”