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M acie had thought herself daring—at least, far more daring than the socialites and dollar princesses who would content themselves with a life that was little more than an existence. Settling for hearth and home with a man who offered little beyond his name and title was not in the cards. Not if she could help it. In the past, she’d stirred a scandal here and there—some strategic, others, not at all by design. Driving away the nobles who wanted a taste of her father’s money, she’d taken chances with her good name. But now, in a dimly lit garden, she took the biggest risk she’d ever dared.

Standing in the garden courtyard, she smiled even as her pulse raced. As Finn pulled her close, she drank in the heat of his long, lean body. The faint scent of bergamot filled her senses, and she savored the feel of his powerful arms holding her tight. She savored every sensation. Every touch. Every delicious moment.

Oh, dear, this was perhaps the greatest chance she’d ever taken. Ever so much was at stake now.

She pulled in a shallow breath as the reality cascaded over her. If she did not proceed with great care, she would risk more than her reputation. More than her precious good name.

She might very well lose her heart.

The faint illumination of a single gaslight torch accented Finn’s carved features. My, he was handsome man, wasn’t he? But there was more to him than the rugged cut of his jaw. More than the keenly intelligent amber eyes that at that very moment looked into hers. More than the sensuous curve of his mouth.

So very much more.

The passion for life that gleamed in Finn’s eyes drew her in. He wasn’t one to settle for a life that did not suit him. He would not be content with an existence of starched shirts and keeping up appearances. Rather, he was his own man.

For as long as she’d known him, Finn had possessed the ability to drive her to distraction. He’d never flattered her with words he did not mean. Never sought to curry her favor and seize a chance to nab an heiress for his own. Years ago, he’d looked upon her as a girl, his friend’s sister who was simply there.

But now, all that had changed. The expression in those captivating eyes drew her in. No longer was she merely Jon’s sister. In his eyes, she saw the heat and the passion and the truth of his hunger—his hunger for her. And her alone.

The faintest of smiles played on his mouth. “Ah, Macie. I could hold ye all night, here in the moonlight.”

She coiled her arms around his broad back. The sleek muscles beneath his jacket flexed beneath her touch. Reaching up, she looped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his throat.

He lightly framed her face between his hands, gazing down at her as if what he saw was very rare. And so very precious.

“Ah, Macie, ye’re perfection.”

His thumb traced a path over the curve of her mouth, gliding gently over her lower lip. Dipping his head lower, he brushed his mouth over hers. Softly at first, as if merely tasting the flavor of her lips. So tender. Yet sensual. And bold.

She pulled in a low breath as he deepened the caress. Coiling her arms around his neck, she relaxed against him, drinking in the heat of his lean male body.

Holding her with a light touch, he kissed her deeply.

Taking. Giving. Seducing. The caress kindled the intangible heat that flowed between them to a roaring flame.

A low sound like a groan in the back of his throat rippled through her senses, betraying his need. Good heavens, his kiss was oh, so very delicious. Each moment stirred passion and sweetness and an intense joy in her heart.

It all felt so very new. So very right.

His tenderness blended with a desire more intense than she’d dreamed possible. She melted against him, craving the closeness of his body. He was the one she wanted. Body and soul, she wanted this man.

And no other.

Macie felt his body tense, and he eased back, putting a hand’s breadth of space between them. His voice was raw, his breath ragged.

“Macie, we must . . . we must . . . stop.”

“And if I don’t want to?” she teased.

“We must.” He gazed down at her, passion darkening his eyes. “This... this isn’t how it should be, lass. Ye deserve so much more. More than I can give ye.”

“Your kiss is all I want.” Hands around his neck, she tugged him closer. “All I need.”

“Ah, my sweet lass, don’t ye know... how bloody much I want ye.” His gravel-roughened words held an edge of pure need. “But this... this is not the time. Not the place.”

In her heart, she knew he was right. She delighted in his touch. But a few stolen moments could not be enough.

“One more kiss,” she whispered against his lips. “That’s all I ask.”

“Aye.” His sensuous half-smile warmed her heart. “One more. For now.”

And then, he claimed her lips. Teasing. Caressing. Tempting her with what was yet to come. Leaving her ever so slightly weak in the knees.

She closed her eyes and drank in every sensation as if it were a true delicacy. Ah, how utterly sweet life would be in this man’s arms.

Tonight is only the beginning. Finn’s rough-edged words whispered in her thoughts.

Indeed. This night, these delectable kisses might well be worth the risk. If only her heart was not so very tender. And she were not still a wee bit wary.

He was the one who’d made her yearn to toss away the shields she’d erected for so very long.

Macie smiled to herself. How very unexpected.

*

Finn had been a cheeky lad scarcely out of short pants when he’d stolen his first kiss. Since that mischievous peck on the lips, he’d believed he knew what it was to kiss a woman. Knew how to kiss her well and leave her breathless. A kiss had seemed a fleeting pleasure, a sensual caress that had no meaning beyond the moment.

But since he’d taken Macie up on her challenge, everything had changed. From the first moment he’d taken the time to look upon her as a woman—not a lass, not the sister of his friend—Finn had known he’d discovered something rare. Something precious.

And now, he’d tasted true pleasure, found in a simple caress.

Now, as he drank in the feel of her in his arms, he held his desire in check. Her eyes were wide with a look that betrayed the innocence she tried to hide. Her chest rose and fell with each shallow inhalation, and she gazed up at him with a look of true trust. Her lips parted, ever so slightly. Pure bloody temptation.

Drawing the pad of his thumb along the curve of her bottom lip, he pulled in a low breath. How he wanted to savor the taste of her lips. That, and so much more.

He wanted her in his arms. And in his bed.

By thunder, he wanted Macie more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

But this was not the bloody time. Nor the bloody place. Only a single door separated them from costumed revelers, musicians, servers, and their esteemed hostess. He had to rein in his instincts before anyone came upon their rendezvous.

Her eyes narrowed, silently questioning. “Is someone coming?” she asked.

“It’s possible,” he said.

“I find the prospect rather exciting.” She gave him a fetching little grin. “How very unexpected.”

“We need to get back to the ball.”

One delicate brow arched. “Before the gossipy hens begin to cluck?”

“If I have my guess, they’ve already begun.”

She shrugged. “Let them say what they will. I’m not afraid of them.”

“Ye do like to tempt fate, now don’t ye, Macie?”

She pulled in a breath, then met his question with one of her own. “Why did you stop? Tempting fate, that is?”

“I didn’t,” he said. “Every moment I’m with ye is taking a chance.”

Her mouth quirked at one corner. “You don’t want to risk my precious good name ?”

“No, lass. I can’t chance losing what little is left of my control.” He threaded a silky tendril of her hair around his finger and tucked it behind her ear.

“Is that so?” Her smile was coy and lovely and tempting enough to drive him to madness.

“With every beat of my heart, I want ye more.”

Gently, she pressed her hand to his chest, her warmth penetrating the linen of his shirt. Bloody hell, was she bent on driving him mad?

“Your heart is strong, Finn. And true.” She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him again, the caress soft and delicate and sensual. “As is mine.”

A familiar voice cut into the quiet moment. Blast it, was that Nell? Taking a step back, he met Macie’s slight, sudden frown. So, she’d heard it, too.

“She’s signaling me. Just as we’d agreed.” Macie’s voice held a quiet tone of resignation as she quickly eased out the crumples in her skirts with the heels of her hands.

Without another word, Finn smoothed Macie’s wayward curls into place. At least, as well as he could. There was nothing to be done about the rosy flush on her cheeks, he thought, smiling to himself.

“Let’s go.” He caught her hand in his. “Before the queen’s guard itself comes searching for ye.”

“That would be best,” she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself.

He opened the door and scanned the corridor. No one in sight. He motioned to Macie to follow him.

They’d made it to the end of the corridor before Nell encountered them. “Oh, thank heaven,” she said breathlessly. “I was hoping to warn you.”

“Warn me?” Macie’s forehead furrowed.

“That dolt of a baron is carrying tales that you were accosted... by Finn.”

“Oh, that lying sot,” Macie said between her teeth.

“You need to return to the ballroom,” Nell went on. “Lady Fenwick has dispatched the fellow who watches over the security of the house to look for you.”

He resisted the urge to utter an epithet. “That bloke is not going to be content until he’s had an encounter with my fists.”

“That will not help matters. You’ll need a suitable explanation for where you’d gone.” Nell’s gaze swept over Macie. She smiled. “Beyond what one might assume.”

“You mean beyond what is obvious,” Macie said with a sly little grin.

“I suppose I do.” Nell motioned to them to follow her along a different hallway that led to the back of the ballroom. “Jason showed me this route.”

“Jason?” Macie asked as they hurried down the corridor.

“One of the musicians. He’s the violinist... I think.”

“Thank goodness you’ve spent the evening getting to know everyone,” Macie said.

Nell’s dark curls bobbed as she shook her head. “Not everyone. I could give a fig about those pinched-face debutantes. So, do you know what you’re going tell them?”

“If the question arises, I’ll simply speak the truth. At least, the first part of it.”

They entered the ballroom through a door behind the musicians’ stands. Shadowed as it was, it was possible that few noticed or cared about their obviously covert reappearance.

Within moments, Finn felt a penetrating gaze directed his way. Bloody hell . Lady Fenwick stood on a balcony, appearing to survey the crowd through opera glasses. Lady Drayton stood to her right, her pinched features growing even more tight as she stared down at him.

“Yer favorite hostess has spotted us,” he said to Macie.

“It would have to be her, wouldn’t it?” Macie sighed in resignation.

“Oh, dear,” Nell said. “On the bright side, perhaps she’ll cool her attempts to make a match.”

“Not likely,” Macie said. “A little tarnish on my name won’t dull the shine on my father’s shillings.”

Suddenly, an ox of a man who wore an ill-fitting suit rather than a costume stepped into their path. He stared down at Macie. “You’re Miss Mason, are you not?”

“I am.” She affected a prim tone. “Might I ask what concern it is of yours?”

He didn’t answer her, but shifted his attention to Nell. “And who might you be?”

“My name is Miss Blake. This gentleman is our escort, Mr. Caldwell. Might I ask why you are inquiring?”

“Lady Fenwick asked me to look into an incident.” He glared at Finn as if he’d absconded with the queen’s jewels. “There was a report that Miss Mason had been maltreated by a guest.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Macie said. “Unless you are referring to the drunken boor who spoke to us in the rudest manner.”

“I am not.” He eyed Finn with a look of clear distrust. “As a matter of fact, your escort fits the description of the man who’d been observed accosting you.”

“Do not make accusations ye cannot back up.” Finn controlled his voice, infusing a steady calm into his words.

The bodyguard kept his eyes on Finn. “My job is to determine what happened to Miss Mason while she was nowhere to be found. A rather peculiar situation, I’d say.”

Macie hiked her chin. “I’ll ask you not to speak of me as if I am not standing directly before you. I can speak for myself.”

The bodyguard nodded. “I will be direct, Miss Mason. Do you have reason to fear this man?”

“How utterly absurd,” she replied.

As the hulking bloke continued to eye him with suspicion, Finn squared his shoulders. Bugger it, he’d rather not have to use his fists tonight, much less against a man who stood half a head taller. But if matters took an ugly turn, he’d be ready. Bloody shame he had not carried his walking stick that night. If Lady Fenwick’s bodyguard raised a hand in violence, the silver gargoyle would make quite a point.

With Lady Drayton following close at her heels, Lady Fenwick marched up to them. Intrigue brimmed in her narrow-eyed gaze.

“Oh, Miss Mason, you gave us a bit of a worry,” Lady Fenwick said, keeping her voice low.

“A bit of worry, is it?” Macie’s eyes sparkled with a touch of defiance. “I am at a loss as to what has caused your concern. It would seem that someone has stirred intrigue where none exists.”

Lady Drayton flashed a thin-lipped glare. “The viscount was quite clear about what he’d witnessed.”

Finn could no longer hold his tongue. “Considering the manner in which the gangly fop spoke to Miss Mason, he should count himself fortunate—”

“Miss Mason, there ye are.” A familiar voice cut into his words. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her—the Dragon had finally decided to make her appearance. As usual, her timing was perfect.

Wearing a gown of shiny red silk and an elaborate bejeweled crown, Mrs. Elsie Johnstone—the aunt Logan had dubbed the Dragon in their youth—strode up to them with the commanding manner of the queen she portrayed.

Mrs. Johnstone sent Macie a speaking glance. “My dear, it would seem I lost track of ye after lingering in the garden.”

Though she had no idea of the Red Queen’s identity, Macie played along. “Oh, my, we should have waited. But I longed for a sip of something cold and bubbly.”

“Mrs. Johnstone, what a pleasant surprise.” Lady Fenwick’s smile was as sincere as her tone. “I’d feared you would not be able to join us this evening.”

“I would not have missed this for the world.” Mrs. Johnstone said. “I arrived a bit late and quickly found myself dashing off to the garden to take in the brilliant night sky. The Comet Sagittarian was quite spectacular.”

“Indeed,” Macie agreed, throwing Nell a wink.

“I do not believe I shall ever forget the sight,” Nell added.

“I do wish you had let me know of this event.” Lady Fenwick’s disappointment sounded genuine. “Is it possible I might still observe it?”

Lady Drayton frowned. “I don’t recall my son mentioning anything about a comet.”

“Sadly, it was a fleeting phenomenon.” Mrs. Johnstone paid Lady Drayton’s comment no heed. “I looked for you, but I believe you were entertaining some very important noble or other at the moment we decided to go to the garden.”

“Pity,” Lady Fenwick said. “Next time, please do keep me informed. I am counting on you, my friend.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Johnstone smiled. “We were fortunate that Mr. Caldwell was free at the moment to escort us.”

“So, the mystery is solved,” Lady Fenwick said brightly. Dismissing the bodyguard, she expressed her intention to cross the boorish viscount from her guest list, invited Mrs. Johnstone to tea, and hurried off with a still-frowning Lady Drayton to mingle with her guests.

Waiting until the ladies were out of earshot, Mrs. Johnstone took charge of the introductions in typical fashion.

“Miss Mason, it is my pleasure to meet ye. I am Mrs. Elsie Johnstone. Logan MacLain is my nephew.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Please, do call me Macie.”

“Macie, is it?” Mrs. Johnstone’s gaze seemed to settle on Macie’s tousled hair and slightly swollen mouth. The quirk of her brows told Finn the woman had already pieced together what they’d been up to during the time Macie had supposedly been observing the night sky.

“Since I was a girl,” Macie replied.

A thin smile played on Mrs. Johnston’s features. “I suppose Mary Catherine is a bit of a mouthful.”

“Quite so,” Macie said, then proceeded to introduce Nell.

“That was quick thinking, Mrs. Johnstone,” Finn said. “Well-timed, as always.”

“Indeed, it was,” Macie agreed. “You solved what might have been an exceedingly awkward situation.”

“There was no comet tonight, was there?” Nell said. “I suspect Harold... Lord Drayton, that is... would’ve mentioned it.”

“Ye’re correct, Miss Blake. I simply made it up.”

Nell flashed a brief grin. “The name did sound highly scientific.”

“Did it now?” Mrs. Johnstone cocked a brow. “On the day I was born, the sun was in the constellation Sagittarius. It seemed a fitting name for a comet. Hardly a stroke of brilliance.”

“You were entirely convincing,” Macie said.

“She’s a clever one, she is,” Finn said. “And she knows it.”

Mrs. Johnstone reached up to adjust her crown atop her chestnut and silver hair. “One would have to be clever to tidy up the fixes Logan and ye have gotten into over the years.” She sent him a speaking glance. “Between the two of ye, I’ve become an expert.”

Finn smiled. “Ye’ll get no argument from me.”

“If that is not a rare event, I don’t know what is.” Mrs. Johnstone smiled. “Ye’ve never been one to back down from a fight. In the days ahead, I suspect that quality will serve ye well.”