Page 66 of A Duchess to Unravel
“And pray tell, what are these rules?” she asked, then yanked at his hair.
The small pain sent a shot of pleasure through Alistair’s body, and he grunted as he dragged her closer, and pinned his hands tight to her buttocks, happy the tense moment was over. He was rewarded with a gasp and even under her mask, he could see a flush take over her face.
“You are not in search of release at tonight’s Masquerade,” he told her, trailing his fingertips up her spine. “That is something I will provide. Therefore, you will not be seeking out any further attention from anyone else. You will stay by my side. Follow my orders, and you will not dance or flirt with anyone else.”
Theo pulled away from his grasp and removed the mask, her disappointment evident on her face.
“Why are we even going if I am to act the same as I must act everywhere else?” She asked. “These rules are no different then the ones I must always follow.”
Alistair’s brow rose.
“Youwantattention from someone else?” He asked, his tone calm.
Inside though, he felt a well of jealousy slam against his chest. Their marriage might be of convenience but still, he did not like the idea of her going to anyone else to meet her needs. The realization startled him, and he took a step back, working to put his new feelings into check.
Theo nibbled her bottom lip as she considered his words, then shook her head.
“Not necessarily,” she replied, “I just enjoyed going because there were no restraints. Now I have many. The freedom of it is gone.”
Alistair’s jealousy cooled at her answer, but he was not going to change his mind about his rules. Even if the danger was gone, sent away to the Americas, Alistair still wanted to protect her. He crooked his finger under her chin, urging her gently to look at him.
“Try it my way tonight, little kitten,” he urged, then caressed his bottom lip over hers. Not a full kiss, just enough for her to lean toward him for more.
“If you truly do not like it, we can discuss a change. For tonight though, my rulesarelaw. And it will bear you no good fortune to disobey them.”
The impish smirk that graced Theo’s face alarmed him, but she rose to her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips.
“Very well, Your Grace,” she replied, making him shiver with power as she called him that. “I shall try your rules. This time.”
She moved away from him then, humming something as she sat down at her vanity and began to comb her long hair.
“Why do I not believe you?” He murmured, watching her with growing curiosity.
She looked up at him through the mirror, mischief sparkling in her eyes.
“I do not know, Your Grace,” her tone far too innocent to be genuine. “I guess you will have to trust me to obey you.”
Alistair groaned, caught somewhere between wanting to shake her and lick her into submission. A knock on the door stopped him from doing either and he went to answer it.
“Pardon, Your Grace,” the servant said, holding out a large box. He felt nothing when she called him that. Whenanyoneelse called him that. Yet when those words came from Theo’s lips ….
“This just arrived. I thought I should bring it to you straight away,” the servant finished.
He took it, mumbled a curt thanks, and brought it to Theo.
“Here is your dress,” he said, his tone more terse than he intended as he sat it on her bed. “Be ready in two hours. Not a second longer.”
She turned from the mirror to look at him, that same impish grin on her face as she batted her lashes.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she replied sweetly.
It taunted him to no end, and Alistair left without a goodbye. As he shut the door, he heard the lilting of Theo’s laugh, and it flooded his heart with warmth.
The masked members of the Devil’s Masquerade all seemed to turn toward Theo and Alistair as they walked in. Whispers stilled. Gasps inhaled. Theo felt a tingle of pride move along her skin as she stood by Alistair’s side. She’d received attention at the Masquerade before, but not like this. Not with such … reverence.
The gown Alistair had made for her fit like a dream along her figure. It was held up by an off-the-shoulder design that hugged her silhouette then flared at her ankles into a small train. The black silk with hints of blue, purple and green felt delicious against her naked skin, cool and soft.
It matched Alistair’s suit perfectly. His black-on-black ensemble was highlighted by dark purple cravat, dark blue cufflinks, and a single teardrop emerald attached to his lapel. His mask, carved of the same wood as hers, depicted not fairies, but a satyr on either side, and true to his alter ego, a horn was present near both ears, curving upward. He looked … perfect.
