Page 28 of To Catch an Earl

The noise from outside decreased to a dull hum, and she registered, dimly, that they were in some kind of secondary hallway, illuminated at regular intervals by a series of glowing wall sconces. He stepped up close, his huge chest inches from her own, his shins pressing against the front of her skirts.

Irritation mingled with shock. She was masked; he couldn’t know who she was. Did he make a habit of abducting female strangers in this manner? Was this how he conducted all his interactions with women? He just pulled them into dimly lit corners whenever he felt the need to—

She tugged her elbow from his grip and went on the attack, even as her heart thundered in her ears. “Lord Melton, you seem to have made a—”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“You have me confused with someone else, sir.”

He sent her mask a scathing look. “Do you think I’mcompletelyblind?”

Emmy made one last-ditch effort. “My name is—”

“Emmeline d’Anvers,” he supplied smoothly, and Emmy stilled in shock at the unexpected perfection of his French accent. From his lips, her name sounded liquid, seductive. As if he’d said it a thousand times before. Only Camille and her father had ever used that version. Luc and Sally used the clipped, Anglicized style—Emmy Danvers.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll ask you again. How did you get in?”

Emmy looked him in the eye. “Your friend Mowbray sent my brother tickets.”

His jaw tensed, and she thought she heard him mutter a curse. His gaze flicked down to her mouth—about theonly part of her face he could see beneath her mask—then back up.

“You shouldn’t have come. This is no place for a lady. It could be dangerous.”

Emmy almost laughed aloud. Oh, yes, dangerous. The danger wasn’t out there, though, in the card room. It was right here in front of her. Six foot two of bristling, infuriated male.

“You’ll be ruined if someone from thetonrecognizes you.”

She managed an offhand shrug. “My reputation, or lack of it, is not your concern.”

An inch of white cuff flashed as he braced his hands on the wall on either side of her head. He leaned forward, crowding her with his height, and a thrill of something that wasn’t quite fear flashed through her. It had been a mistake to come here, to taunt him. But she’d never felt so alive. Being near him elicited the same nerve-wracking rush as participating in a heist.

“You’re in my club, Miss Danvers. That makes you my concern.”

Emmy pressed herself back against the wallpaper in a vain attempt to create some space between them. The air seemed thick, throbbing with tension. They were almost nose to nose. The light from the nearest sconce outlined the harsh line of his jaw, the bulge of his shoulder. She caught a hint of brandy on his breath, and it warmed her, curled her stomach.

His eyes narrowed. “You are the most aggravating woman I have ever had the misfortune to encounter.”

“And you are the most irritating man.”

She forced herself to hold his gaze. She understood this game; to close her eyes would be to admit defeat, and she refused to flinch first. She kept her eyes on his as he brought his hand to her cheek and spread his fingersalong her jaw, just daring her to move. His hand was so large, he touched both earlobes at the same time.

She shivered.

“Do you find this irritating, Miss Danvers?” he murmured. His thumb stroked her chin, then slid to the corner of her lips.

She found that she was breathing hard, little pants against his skin. Her stomach swooped as he slid the pad of his thumb to the center of her lips and snagged her lower lip, folding it down. His eyes darkened.

In a sudden move, he yanked the ribbon that held her mask. It fell to the floor, and Emmy felt instantly exposed. The tiny piece of cloth had given her more confidence than she’d realized, the illusion of safety.

“Better,” he murmured. “I see you, Emmy Danvers.”

Was that a threat? A warning?

“Considering you’re half blind, that’s quite ironic,” she managed on a shaky exhale.

His eyes were slate blue behind a tangle of dark lashes. Emmy regarded him with suspicion as he slid his hand around to the nape of her neck.

His lips touched hers with a static jolt that made her gasp. He pulled back, just a fraction, as if gauging her reaction, and then closed his eyes. He seemed to be waging an internal battle with himself. Emmy held her breath.

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