His Blackmailed Bride. Sandra Marton
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me right now. He…’
‘Hell, he should have been with you all evening.’ His hands moved over her shoulders. ‘I’d have been, if you belonged to me.’
‘I don’t belong to anyone. And he was waiting. I mean, I just didn’t see him right away. I…’
He laughed softly. ‘But you saw me.’ His hands slid from her shoulders, down her arms, and encircled her wrists. ‘And then the crowd closed in and I lost sight of you. Is that when your Romeo found you?’
Paige’s lips felt parched. Carefully, she ran the tip of her tongue over them.
‘Yes. And now I really have to go back to him. I…’
‘The next time I saw you, you were dancing with an older man.’ He lifted her hands between them and held them against his chest. ‘It wasn’t Romeo.’
It was a statement, not a question. Despite herself, Paige smiled. ‘No.’
He nodded. ‘Your father, I thought. Or a favourite uncle.’
‘My father,’ she said. ‘I saw you watching us. I…’
The admission was out before she had time to stop it. Any hope Paige had that it might slip by vanished when she heard the stranger’s softly triumphant laugh.
‘But you said you hadn’t noticed me at all, Juliet.’
‘That’s not my name,’ she said desperately. ‘That’s fantasy…’
His arms slid around her. ‘This is a night of fantasy,’ he whispered. ‘Anything can happen on a night like this.’ Slowly, he drew her closer to him. ‘You can even stay here and dance with me.’
The music drifting from the ballroom had turned slow and dreamlike. Paige put her hands on his chest as he began to move to its faint rhythm.
‘Don’t, please…’ She stood stiffly within his arms, fighting against the desire to melt against him, and then she drew in her breath. A night of fantasy, he’d said, and that was what this was, wasn’t it? Harmless fantasy. The stuff of dreams. Her heart turned over. ‘All right,’ she whispered. ‘Just one dance…’
‘One dance,’ he said easily. ‘And then we’ll do whatever you want.’
We’ll do whatever you want… Was there a threat in the simple words? No, not a threat, Paige told herself as they began to move across the flagstones. His words held something more. An assurance, a conviction that he knew what she wanted, even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself yet.
The stranger could think what he liked. One dance with him—that was all—and then she’d return to Alan’s side. And she’d tell Alan about all this in a week or two, tell him about the bit of foolishness that had taken hold of her on this night three days before their wedding. They would laugh about it, just as they’d laughed about the bachelor party Alan’s groomsmen had planned for tomorrow evening at a club known for its scantily clad barmaids.
‘A rite of passage,’ Alan called it, and that was what tonight was, wasn’t it? This dance with a stranger was just one last taste of freedom, and Alan would smile when she told him about it and…
Who was she kidding? She could never tell Alan. She could never tell anyone. This was insanity. Dangerous insanity. It wasn’t a last fling or an innocent rite of passage…
The man drew her closer. ‘Are your eyes really the colour of spring violets?’
His voice, soft and husky, moved over her like a velvet caress. In the heavy silence of the night, Paige could hear the quick tumble of her heart.
‘Who are you?’ she asked breathlessly.
He laughed softly. ‘You know who I am, Juliet. I’m the man who’s wanted to make love to you all night.’
The admission stole her breath away. She stumbled and he caught her to him, holding her tightly against the hardness of his body.
‘Don’t,’ she whispered, but, even as she said the word, she felt herself melting against him. Her hands spread against his chest; she felt the thudding beat of his heart beneath her palms.
‘Juliet…’
A door slammed behind them. There was a sudden shriek of laughter, and the sound of feet on the gravel path. Paige’s return to reality was swift. Her hands balled into fists and pressed against him.
‘Let me go,’ she said in a desperate whisper. ‘Please…’
His hand caught hers. ‘Come with me,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Are you crazy? My fiancé…’
‘I don’t give a damn about your fiancé. And neither do you. Hell, if he mattered, you wouldn’t be here with me.’
His words sent a chill through her. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. He means everything to me. He…’
‘Then you have nothing to fear by coming with me, do you?’ His fingers wove through hers. ‘Besides, if someone were to find us here, they might come to the wrong conclusion.’
She wanted to tell him that Alan would understand, but it was a hope, not a certainty. The footsteps and the laughter were growing closer. The man sensed her hesitancy and clasped her hand more tightly in his.
‘We’ll finish our dance,’ he said as he drew her after him. ‘Down there, on the beach. And then, if that’s what you want, I’ll return you to your Romeo.’
It was lunacy to follow him along the narrow gravel path that led down the bluff. Paige told herself that, even as she walked alongside him. It was lunacy to kick off her sandals and step into his waiting arms when her feet touched the sand. But it felt wonderful to let herself lean into his embrace and move in rhythm with the music. Moments passed, and she closed her eyes and put her head against his shoulder. When his lips brushed her hair, it seemed so right that she made no objection.
‘Juliet,’ he whispered.
Paige lifted her head slowly. The stranger’s hand moved up her back, to the nape of her neck, and his fingers twined in her hair.
‘Juliet,’ he said again, and, as the moon escaped the pursuing clouds and lit his face, her eyes filled with him, drinking in the features she had only glimpsed until now. His nose was narrow, his mouth hard, the bottom lip full and sensual. His eyes glittered behind the mask. Blue, she thought, while her heart drummed in her chest. Blue, or perhaps green…
As if he were reading her mind, he reached up and slowly pulled the black domino from his face. Her breathing quickened as he cast it aside and gazed at her. His eyes were a piercing aquamarine, the colour of the summer sea, deep-set and thickly lashed.
‘Now it’s your turn,’ he murmured.
Paige trembled as he reached towards her. His fingers closed on the silver mask, and she held her breath as he untied it. Slowly, patiently, he eased it from her, and she knew she had never felt as naked in a man’s arms as she felt at this moment. His eyes moving over her unmasked face were more intimate a caress than any she had ever experienced. God, what was happening to her?
‘I knew your eyes were the colour of violets,’ he said, smiling down at her. His voice thickened. ‘You’re beautiful, Juliet.’
His hand cupped her face. He was going to kiss her, she thought. She had to stop him…
Paige swayed as her lashes fell to her cheeks. What was the sense of pretending? She wanted him to kiss her. She knew it—and the stranger knew it. He’d been making love to her all night, first in the ballroom, then on the terrace, and now—now he was going to kiss her. The kiss would end the fantasy and bring back reality. It would put a stop to all this foolishness. She’d step back and apologise for letting things get out of hand and…
His mouth brushed against hers, the kiss