Page 56 of Her Beast

Or maybe that was the effect of his evening blacks. He’d looked impressive in his day suit, but there was no denying that a tailcoat was the perfect cut for such a magnificent physique. His shoulders filled the doorway so completely that he looked like a second, more impressive, door. His long, powerful legs were encased in narrow trousers that made him seem seven feet tall.

Even wearing three-inch evening heels Julia had to look up.

Although he was dressed in the most elegant evening garments she’d ever seen on a man, he did not look entirely civilized. That had to be the effect of the black leather mask. Julia knew he was wearing it to hide his scars but that was the least of what it managed to do.

His undamaged face was undeniably handsome, but the other side—the cold, featureless void—somehow enhanced his appeal. At least for her. Her attraction to such a dangerous man appalled her; she was no better than a moth courting a flame.

“Good evening, Miss Harlow.” His mouth pulled up on the right side, forming a slight smile as he gestured to the paper lanterns. “Do you like it?”

“It is magical.” She hesitated and added, “Thank you.”

“I can’t claim responsibility. It was my secretary’s idea to make the garden both festive and easily navigable.”

“He did a splendid job.”

“I shall pass along your appreciation. You look exquisite,” he said, his pale gaze moving over her in a way that quickened her breathing. “That dress might have been designed with you in mind.”

Julia had received compliments all her life, but his words—accompanied by such an intense assessing look from his flame-blue eye—rendered her speechless.

She had dithered about whether to wear one of the dozens of new gowns in her dressing room or the one she’d arrived in.

While it had been difficult to resist the brand-new clothing, for tonight, at least, she had needed the strength she drew from her own garments. Besides, the Worth gown was exquisite, the sort of garment that would make any woman look astounding.

“Thank you,” she said.

He offered his arm. “May I escort you into dinner?”

Julia laid her gloved hand on his forearm and they walked the short distance in silence to the dining room, which was magnificent illuminated by the massive chandelier.

Mr. Barton waved away the footman and seated her himself.

“Wine?” he asked.

“Please.”

Once he’d taken his seat he nodded at the footman. “You may begin serving, Charles.”

After the servant left Julia forced herself to say, “Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me, Mr. Barton.”

“The honor is all mine. I would have asked you sooner but didn’t think you wanted my company.”

“I’m sor—”

“That wasn’t my way of asking for another apology, Miss Harlow. You are already forgiven.”

“Thank you. Did you suffer much damage?”

“Very little.”

“I am relieved to hear it.”

A not entirely comfortable silence inserted itself, and he seemed disinclined to do anything but sip his wine.

“Do you live here?” she blurted.

“I do.”

“But I never see anyone else—not even in the delightful greenhouse.”

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