Lord Beast (10 page)

“I’ll be back shortly. I want to
have a word with him about
Desdemona Fitzgerald!
” Vicky snarled, hitched
up her skirts, and made towards Gabriel with purposeful intent.

Dani stifled a chuckle into her
lemonade

“May I have this dance?”

Her spine stiffened at the sound.
It was him
! A smile on her face, she spun around and it wavered. Well,
she couldn’t be sure exactly. She’d never seen him before and this man was
wearing one of those masks that covered every inch of his face except for his
mouth and chin. He was tall with dark hair that was cut short. Rhys’s hair, she
recalled, remembering the night a lock had slipped forward and curled from the
shadows of his hood, had been long. His eyes were… gold. Well, no, that
couldn’t be quite right. A light brown, perhaps, or liquid amber. They were
quite spectacular. She’d never seen such a colour before. Other than that, the
only features she could discern were the strength of his jaw, the broadness of
his shoulders, the corded muscles in his legs… Oh, drat. She couldn’t be sure
if he was Rhys. If he was, he’d surely tell her, wouldn’t he?

“Uh… I think Mr… um… the Pirate
has already asked-”

Swiftly, and without hesitation,
the man turned to where the Pirate stood chatting amiably to a Fool, he said,
“Would you mind terribly if I steal away this treasure for a waltz?”

A look of comical display crossed
over the Pirate’s handsome face but Dani could hardly protest. She found him to
be a self-absorbed twit.

“Er…”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” the
other man returned suavely before turning back to her, gently grabbing her arm
and leading her to the dance floor where the first strings of a waltz were beginning
to resound from the orchestra.

Almost effortlessly, he pulled
her into his arms and began to lead her around in a series of twirls and steps.
So confident and sure and graceful was he that the exertion hardly extended to
her back at all. The only other dance she had that evening was an obligatory
one with Gabriel and that hadn’t been too pleasant. She frowned up at him
quizzically, wishing he would reveal himself to her. But if he wasn’t about to,
then she would have to broach the subject.

“Do I know you?” she asked
suddenly.

The corners of his mouth twitched
as if he were hiding a smile. “I don’t believe you do.”

“Are you sure?” she blurted, then
blushed, then hurriedly amended, “You remind me of someone I know.”

“Is he devilishly handsome with a
winning smile?” For effect, he grinned, and Dani felt her legs turn to jelly.

The man could kill with a smile
like that- wide, suave, decisively gorgeous, engraved into swarthy cheeks and
exposing two straight lines of white teeth. They were perfect, those teeth,
except for those two canines that looked rather pointy.

“I wouldn’t know,” she murmured
resignedly. If this man was indeed Rhys, he’d tell her. There was no reason to
hide his identity from her here. “What is your name?”

“Now, now. You’re getting ahead
of yourself. Aren’t we supposed to enjoy the anonymity of each other’s company
at events like these?” he teased, smiling down at her and those golden eyes
glinted with admiration.

“What should I call you then?”

“Impertinent wench,” he muttered.
“I suppose you could call me James.”

“I don’t know any James’s.”

“And we’ve already come to the
conclusion that you don’t know me, so it is rather fitting.”

“Is that your real name?”

He laughed. “What’s your name,
then? It is only fair that you impart with it as I have mine.”

Dani hesitated for a moment,
gnawing on the implications of such an endeavour. It was unlikely that she’d
partake in any of the more risqué fraternisations of the more adventurous side
of the ton, therefore giving her name to this stranger could hardly cause her
any long-standing repercussions. Shrugging mentally, she decided to tell him.
“Danielle Carmichael.”

For a moment, he looked
surprised- as if he couldn’t quite believe that she’d willingly give him her
real name. Then he grinned again and her stomach fluttered crazily. “James
Sutton.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She smiled up at him.

“Trust me,” he murmured huskily,
“the pleasure is mostly mine.”

“Are you ever in London, Mr
Sutton?”

“No.” He glanced away for a
moment. “I reside in the country. I prefer it here.”

“I do as well,” she admitted.

“Isn’t it every girl’s dream to
do the Season?”

She gave him a dry look. “It
grows tedious for a wallflower,” Dani told him. “You can only try to resemble
the draping for so many years of your life.”

He snorted. “How old are you?” he
nearly demanded.

“That’s very rude, you know,” she
admonished lightly, “but I’m three and twenty.”

“Oh, well, then there’s certainly
no hope left for you.”

She gasped as his boldness. He
was teasing her with a familiarity that confused and… well, delighted her.
There were very few people who could be so comfortable in her presence. “You’re
quite insufferable,” she remarked with a crooked smile, “but very correct. I’m
firmly on the shelf. In fact, I’m glued there. Quite impossible to pry me off.”

His smile was warm. “I think with
enough force, someone could get you off.”

“I doubt it somehow.”

Their dance came to an end. She
curtsied. He bowed. He took her arm and led her away, winding slowly through
the crowd.

“You have little faith in your
own abilities,” he stated.

“It’s not a matter of faith, sir,
but rather that of fact. I would have been in London every year since I was
sixteen had my mother not died this year. As it is I’ll be missing the Season
this year. Next year I am four and twenty. By all accounts, I’m already a
hopeless spinster.”

“You are far from hopeless, Miss
Carmichael.”

“Are you offering for me then, Mr
Sutton?” She glanced around as they were suddenly engrossed in darkness. So
enamoured had she become with her escort that she hadn’t paid much attention to
where he was leading her-outside apparently, onto the dimly lit terrace that
was also isolated from the rest of the ball. She stopped dead. “Where are you
taking me?”

“Fresh air?” He shrugged nonchalantly.
“You’re safe with me, Miss Carmichael.”

“I don’t think I should believe
you,” she told him quietly.

“Probably not.”

His eyes met hers and something
sweet and tangible touched her heart. Here was a man, one of the first in all
her life, making her feel more of a wanted and cherished woman than she had
ever felt before. If she couldn’t trust that, then she was worthy of her
self-inflicted spinsterhood. Oh, she would probably regret her next actions,
but something was provoking her to be rebellious and insurgent. It could be the
rejection of the one man she was coming to admire, or the fact that her
prospects of making a good match dwindled as each year passed, she didn’t know.
But she sighed and continued to walk towards the gardens with the one man who
appeared to want her.

And it felt good.

Rhys changed his mind about
kissing her.

It was her sudden acquiescence to
his compromising her reputation that probably did it. Whatever the reason, he
knew he could not bring himself to do so. If he kissed her, he wanted to kiss
her as Rhys Ashcroft, not James Sutton. He was he realised, an utter fool.

“I thought we were going into the
garden, Mr Sutton,” Danielle enquired when he slowed down his steps
substantially.

“Maybe you were right,” he told her
gruffly. “Maybe you’re not safe with me.”

She gave him an adorably puzzled
look. “But you said that I was-”

“I know what I said,” he
interrupted almost savagely. Cursing silently, he ran his hand through his hair
in frustration. It
was
utterly imbecilic coming here. How could he
explain to her that he didn’t want to kiss her because the thought of her
kissing another man- even if it were
he
- left a bitter, unpleasant taste
in his mouth? Oh, the notion even sounded idiotic to him in his own mind. He
was mad for thinking it. He wanted her- but not as James Sutton. It had to be
Rhys Ashcroft who claimed her in the most fundamental of ways. Sod it, what did
he even care? It wasn’t like he even cared for the girl… much…

Anger, frustration, desire all
warred within, fighting to gain control. It was astounding how little of it he
actually had over his own body and suddenly he
needed
to prove that he
didn’t care about Danielle Carmichael in the way his actions were proving to
him that he did.

Growling incoherently, he yanked
her against him and crushed his mouth down on hers.

She resisted like a woman
possessed. A muffled shriek vibrated against his lips as she squirmed violently
in his arms, thrashing against him with all the force in her small body.

Abruptly, he released her and she
stumbled backwards a step, her palm landing resoundingly against his cheek.

“You said I was safe with you!”
she seethed, her blues eyes flashing with a vehemence that astounded him. God,
she was beautiful when she was furious.

“I lied,” he snapped succinctly.
“You practically threw yourself at me.”

Her fury convalesced into
affronted rage. “I did no such thing!”

“You were perfectly willing a
moment ago to enter a secluded garden alone with me,” he ground out.

“Only because you told me-”

“Never trust a man, especially
when he endeavours to lead you into isolated gardens at a party.”

She glared at him silently a
moment. “You had no right,” she hissed. “I would never consent.”

“You were on your way to giving
it,” he growled, recalling the way in which she had willingly complied with his
gentle coaxing into the garden. “How else is a man to read a woman who allows a
stranger to accompany them into a quiet garden?”

Her eyes widened and filled with
horror. “I didn’t know,” she murmured desperately, “I would never-”

He snorted derisively. “We both
know that that would have taken all but a couple of minutes and then you would
have been ruined.”

Back was the effrontery and
outrage, an utterly bewitching combination. “I would never have consorted with
you because I… feel
strongly
for another!”

His heart stopped beating
altogether. “Why are you out here alone with me then?” he asked raggedly.

She shrugged, making a vague
gesture with her wrist. “You were here. He is not.”

“Not very loyal, are you?”

She blinked at him. “Why are you
defending a man you know nothing about?” she snapped angrily. “If you must
know, he does not return the sentiment. I enjoyed your attention, Mr Sutton,
but I was hardly going to act inappropriately on it. I had no idea such illicit
thoughts existed in your mind.”

“Illicit thoughts exist in every
man’s mind should he chance to glance upon you, Miss Carmichael.”

She snorted and crossed her arms
over her breasts, a stance that was decidedly offish. “Don’t be absurd. No man
has ever attempted to force himself on me before.”

Deciding it best to let this
subject drop, Rhys let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll
escort you back inside,” he told her gruffly. “Let me make amends for my
behaviour.”

Her eyes were wide and
thoughtful, a little bit sad too, as she studied him. “I think I’d like a few
moments alone, Mr Sutton, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He bowed and
reluctantly turned away from her. Loathe as he was to leave her to her
solitude, he couldn’t very well trust himself to be alone
with
her for a
moment longer. Like her, he too needed isolation, to mull over these new
feelings and decide the best course of action to take. For so long he had been
so sure of his way of life, his means of survival, and now… well… Danielle had
changed all that.

As soon as he re-entered the
hall, his mind brooding with these thoughts, Gabriel cornered him and dragged
him off to a small alcove that was separate from the rest of the masquerade.

“Are your intentions honourable?”
he demanded.

“What the hell are you talking
about?”

Gabriel studied him intently
through his mask. “Rhys,” he began warningly, “Dani isn’t like your normal-”

“Oh, for God’s sake-”

“You’ve compromised her already,
haven’t you?” Gabriel accused, almost threateningly.

Slightly taken aback by this,
Rhys cocked an arrogant brow and considered taunting him briefly. This was a
side of Gabriel he had never been made aware of. In the past, they had both
adopted a devil-may-care attitude, especially when it came to the women they
consorted with. The worse sort of rakes, they had paid little heed to the
reputations they demolished.