by Win Hollows
“I hope not all of us are daft,” a deep voice from beside her spoke.
She froze and then turned toward the sound where a man in a dark costume now stood close to her, leaning with arms crossed against the wall.
Max. Her lungs swelled with giddiness.
“You came.”
He nodded. “I came.”
“You received my note.” She tried not to let her excitement show in her voice.
He chuckled, the low sound sending thrills through her. “No, I just happened to see a lovely goddess at a boring ball and had to make her acquaintance.”
She glared at him through the eye holes of her mask. “Don’t tempt me, Eydris. These arrows are not just ornamental.”
He came closer. “Shhh. Don’t you know we aren’t supposed to know who anyone is at these things?” he admonished, a playful glint in his topaz eyes gleaming from behind his black domino.
Even with half his face covered, he was the most handsome man here, his long legs and trim waist perfectly at home in the costume he wore. Elorie looked him up and down. “And just who are you supposed to be?”
He was dressed all in black, with a simple open-throated shirt and thigh-hugging breeches tucked into black leather boots. The only thing breaking the darkness of the ensemble was a black belt inset with large diamonds all the way around it. “Can’t you guess?” He crossed his arms and leaned toward her. “I’m Orion, Artemis’s lover.”
Pinpricks rose on her arms. “Is that so?”
He smirked. “In some versions, yes, although Artemis was a bit of a tease with her chastity. I’m hoping she won’t prove such difficult sport tonight.”
“I believe Artemis killed Orion, did she not?” Elorie said pointedly.
“Only because she was too far away to know it was him. I don’t plan to let you leave arm’s reach.”
Elorie gulped, her mouth suddenly dry. He gazed steadily down at her, making her feel as if she’d never flirted in her entire life. She had. She had flirted her way in and out of many situations, but none of them had been real. None of them had mattered to her.
But he mattered.
She realized it more than ever as her gaze caressed his sharp jawline and sensuous lips. Everything about him had become like air to her starved lungs, familiar and infinitely dangerous. She cared what he thought of her and no longer wanted to be just a mysterious figment of his alternate life. That, more than anything, threatened her composure. It wasn’t possible for either of them. And yet she wanted it with all her being.
“Why are you still here in England?” Max asked her, changing the subject abruptly. “If you’re not after the Damarek, what is it that’s keeping you here?”
Elorie looked away. He was getting too close, and the worst thing was, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything right here and now. “Why Max, obviously I’m here to seduce you and take the Lance once you find it.”
Max smiled and shook his head slowly. “I thought that at first too, but I don’t think so now. You’ve run scared of me too many times for that to be your goal. And you’ve never once asked me about it. A good operative would have had me in her bed by now, wrapped around her finger, telling her all my secrets.”
The image he painted in her mind caused her chest to constrict. Lying in a bed with Max, letting him leisurely touch her body in all the ways she dreamed about… “Perhaps I’m just waiting for the right moment.”
“Are you?” he asked curiously. “I find your reticence hard to believe as an act. You could have taken me in by now without suspicion. Surely you know I would do anything to have you all to myself. I’d make sure you never wanted to leave my side.”
His declaration made her cheeks glow. “Would you have told me where the Lance is?”
Max threw his head back and laughed. “No.”
Elorie grinned back at him. “Then I still have some work to do.”
He rubbed a knuckle over her necklace where it started downward at the base of her throat. “Ah, you don’t fool me, Ellie. Your mask is gone. There’s no hiding from me now.”
“Your statement is readily disproven,” she retorted, running a fingertip along the top of her mask.
He caught her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing the fingertip of her longest finger.
She watched his lips form into a pucker, his eyes never leaving her face. Fear that he was right—that she didn’t fool him at all—burgeoned into anticipation. He wanted to know her secrets, and perhaps she would let him have a few. “If removing my mask means so much to you,” she said, taking the fingers he had kissed and trailing them down the V collar of his shirt. “Then I’ll help you.”
“Will you now?” His eyes brightened with heat.
Elorie nodded, keeping her gaze on his shirtfront. “For every satisfactory kiss you give me tonight, I will answer one question. Any question you ask.” Her heart thudded loudly as she looked up into his eyes.
He seemed to think about it, and then a slow smile curved his lips. “I think I can manage that.”
“I have no doubt.” There was no reason why he wouldn’t agree to such a game, as he would get what he wanted regardless. But on her part, it was quite reckless. She couldn’t tell him a multitude of things without getting herself into deep trouble. Why she was going down this path was a mystery, for it was bound to end badly. Elorie glanced around the room, noting the ever-increasing frivolity. No one was paying them any attention. There was even a couple in shepherdess and gladiator costumes kissing openly against the opposite wall, oblivious to anything else around them.
“Come with me.” Max grabbed her hand and led her through the swarm of bodies toward the balcony doors. It was a warm night, and they had been left open to provide a breeze to the masses of people occupying the ballroom, as well as a way out to the veranda that overlooked the Marlings’ extensive gardens. He didn’t spare a look for the moonlit flower beds and manicured sculptures as he trailed her along a dark walkway leading off the semi-circle of the balcony.
Elorie had no idea where they were going, but it didn’t really matter. Anywhere with Max was fine with her. It reminded her of when he had led them through the woods, laughing like children as they went to some secret place where only they existed. Lamp posts barely gave off enough light to see by as they tripped along. The walkway slanted downward to meet the ground, at which point Max veered them off to the right. A door to an outbuilding of some sort opened at his touch.
They entered the darkened structure, both looking carefully at their surroundings before venturing further inside. It was the carriage house, three different carriages parked side by side, all with the Marling crest emblazoned on their doors. One was a light cabriolet, one a landau, and the other a coach, all used for different occasions and purposes. On either side of the main parking area were horses’ stalls, the headers between them lit with hanging lanterns to create a warm light that reached most of the space in which they stood. There were six stalls total, only enough to house the show horses for travel within London.
“Hullo there,” Max said, leading her over to approach a curious horse who had come up to the door of the stall closest to them. The dappled gray and white stallion wasn’t a fashionable solid color, but its patterned coat was uniquely beautiful, which she was sure was why the Marlings had chosen the beast.
Max stroked the horse’s nose with hushed words, and it nickered in appreciation, blinking its liquid gray eyes slowly.
Coming along its other side, Elorie ran her hand down his glossy neck, scratching the nape of his mane. The way Max gently touched the horse while speaking softly made the hairs on her own neck raise. She wanted him to touch her and whisper sweet things meant for her ears alone. After a moment, Max moved to her side of the animal and touched the side of her waist. Without saying anything, he turned her toward him and advanced closer.
Her breath hitched, and she was suddenly nervous at the clear intent in his eyes. She stepped back, but he ca
me right along with her until her quiver bumped against the stall’s wooden door. With nowhere to go, she put her hands on his chest as he came up against her, the long lines of his body pushing into hers. His gaze dropped to her lips, and Elorie’s stomach tightened in anticipation.
Before he could drop his head toward hers, the horse chose that moment to protest the abandonment of attention paid to him, swinging his head to collide with Max’s. His black satin mask was knocked askew amid the horse’s indignant blowing nostrils.
Elorie let out a giggle as Max tried and failed to dodge the horse’s hair ruffling.
Max shushed the horse and put a soothing hand to its muzzle.
“There now, you’re still king of the stable,” Max assured him quietly, fanning his fingers over the whorl of white on his forehead. “But right now, I need to pay the lady my compliments. Surely you can let a fellow have a moment alone with one as pretty as she?”
His words seemed to mollify the horse, for it quieted its breathing and held still for his touch.
“It’s good to know how I rate against a horse,” Elorie quipped.
Max smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming against his tanned skin in the lamplight. He held out his hand to her, and she took it. Leading her past the dappled gray’s door, he found an unoccupied stall and closed both upper and lower doors behind them.
It was quite dark in the hay-filled stall, enclosed as it was from outside light except for the barest sliver that came from where the doors hinges met the wall near the lamp sconce outside. As soon as he’d made sure the door wouldn’t open of its own volition, he turned to her and pulled her close.
“Now where were we?” he murmured.
“I think you were about to kiss me,” she replied, shivering as he took her arms and placed them around his neck. The smells of hay, horse, and tack polish faded as she breathed in his scent of wooded spice.
Putting his hands back on her waist, he hummed low in his throat. “I think you’re right.” He lowered his head to meet her lips with his, gently nibbling and rubbing until she let him into her mouth with a sigh.
Chapter Twelve
She’s going to be my undoing, Max thought as her sigh filled his mouth. The way she hid her tongue from him only to reach out with it and tentatively flick at his own made him forget anything else on God’s green earth. Her kisses were unexpectedly amateur, as if she was learning what she liked as she went. Perhaps she had played so many roles that she had never taken what she wanted for herself, always catering to the needs of her marks.
Tasting of the sweet peaches and cloves commonly used in ratafia, Max delved deeper, exploring the shape of her mouth and tongue. She responded with graceless enthusiasm, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck as he paced the kiss. He felt her press closer into him, the breaths between them mingling faster.
Max pulled back, setting her away from himself. Even in the darkness, he could see Elorie’s face was flushed and her chest heaved with her lungs’ efforts. When he had gotten his own breathing under control, he said, “So?”
“S-so what?”
“Was it satisfactory?”
She blinked, and then a smile worked its way across her swollen lips. “I suppose so.”
He nodded once, trying to keep from smiling back at her. “Good. I believe I’m owed an answer then.”
She crossed her arms in front of herself, but it only served to push her ample breasts up like a feast before him. “Yes, you’ve earned it. What is your question?”
Momentarily distracted by the sight of her plump bosom straining against her dress, he paused. She really was a goddess, Artemis incarnate with her deadly arrows and luscious beauty. The thought that she was here, letting him kiss her and coax her secrets out, was humbling.
Looking away from her to clear his thoughts, Max scuffed the toe of his boot into the littering of hay at his feet as he formulated what he wanted to know. When he felt able to speak, he asked, “How did you come to work for the Hand of Charlemagne? You’re aware I’ve known who you work for.”
He saw her breathing stop as she likely processed the information, but then she shrugged and took the leather quiver from her back to set it on the ground against the wall. She paced a few steps back and forth in the narrow stall. “I thought it would be an adventure. As a girl, my mother told me grand stories of France’s glory, and I thought I could be a part of something more than myself. It was an escape from … from what I thought was a constricting life. I didn’t want to be just another girl who grew up and wed a man who would put me on a shelf once he tired of me.”
Max listened carefully. She was good at saying a lot of words without giving away anything of value. “Thank you. But I did not ask why you worked for them. I asked how you came to work for them.”
That brought her up short, and she swallowed. “I went to the organization’s leader and told him that I knew secrets about the British Government that he could never learn otherwise.”
Not knowing how he felt about her revelation, Max gave a nod. If she had indeed given France secrets about the English, it could have resulted in the deaths of his countrymen. It wasn’t as if this knowledge about her surprised him. He had known this entire time they were at cross purposes, but it troubled him more now than before. “And did you? Know secrets worth induction into their ranks?”
She shook her head, smiling, and hope rose in him before she said, “That’s another question you haven’t earned.”
Frustration rose in him. Would she never trust him with anything simply because he had never before betrayed her?
But then, that wasn’t true, was it? He had betrayed her, thwarted her, stole from her, and put her in danger many times over the years. She had no reason at all to trust him and every reason to protect herself from him. Yet it seemed as if the balance had shifted between them these last weeks. Did it all count for nothing? Would she ever let her guard down, or was this all a game to her? Perhaps she’d been telling the truth when she said she was planning to take the Damarek after all.
Then why would she fake her death? It would be his next question as soon as he kissed her senseless.
He came forward and took her face in his hands, kissing her savagely. It wasn’t a slow kiss of exploration this time, but a release of anger for making him beg for scraps of her without caring how crazy she drove him. Hooking his foot around the back of her ankle, he knocked her feet out from under her.
While she gasped in surprise at having to rely on the strength of his arms to keep her from falling, he laid her slowly back down onto the pile of clean hay that rose in the corner of the stall. She clung to him, her nails making divots in his biceps as he carefully angled her down. The hay rustled under the weight of their bodies as they sank into it, and Max took her mouth again. He shifted his body atop hers so he didn’t crush her, but nudged her thighs apart with his knee while he kept her distracted with the spearing of his tongue. Warm air enveloped them with the scent of earthy, dry hay, creating a pocket of intimacy wherein only the two of them existed.
Max took his hand from under her back and moved it to her breast, gauging the weight of it in his palm. The material of her dress was much thinner than a regular gown would have been, so the full roundness of her form pressed into his hand in sweetly plump curves.
He sucked in a breath, wanting to devour her and make her pay for what she did to him at the same time. His yearning for her was without limits, and he knew that all she needed was the right motivation to obliterate her own walls she had erected against him. Moving his mouth from her lips to just underneath her jaw, he pressed kisses to her delicate skin until he’d reached her earlobe. When he took it in his mouth to tickle it with his tongue, she moaned. Smiling at the sweet spot he’d found on her, he continued to explore her ear as she began to arch and writhe beneath him. The erection that had formed at her soft sounds of pleasure throbbed with demand.
“You like that, do you?” Max whispered in her ear.
&
nbsp; She sighed and let out a strangled, “Maybe.”
“I can do all sorts of things you’d like,” he told her, kneading her heavy globe in his hand as he licked the rim of her ear.
She shoved her breast upward, further into his hand.
Chuckling at her blatant requests for more, he backed away and took his hand from her. His eyes were becoming accustomed to the shadowed interior of the stall, and he could see her gleaming eyes clearly now. Looking down at her lips swollen from his kisses, Max grinned. “That should get me at least another two questions, don’t you think?”
Her eyes flashed, and she growled. “Fine.”
Hay crackled as he adjusted his weight so that his face hovered just to the side of hers. “Why did you fake your death?”
Her body stiffened, and her arms dropped from around his shoulders. Searching his eyes, she asked, “How did you know about that?”
He shrugged. “I have my sources, as I’m sure you do.”
Elorie forcefully flicked back a lock of hair from her face. Her lips were pressed into a puckered line, and she didn’t answer.
“Come now.” Max nudged her shoulder with his own. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
This earned him a wry twist of her mouth. “Are they?”
Max didn’t say anything but looked her straight in her eyes that were darkened to pools of jade in the dimness. If she didn’t believe him, none of this mattered because she would just lie to him without him ever knowing otherwise. There was nothing he could do to convince her now. She just had to trust him.
