Page 101 of Red Masquerade

“Iwish it,” he said behind me. “But I’ve grown selfish. I’m not sure I’m ready to share you yet.”

I looked over my shoulder. “Yet?”

His eyes darkened. “Ever.”

We changed into our nightclothes—him in only a loose pair of pants, and I into a longer nightgown that reached my knees, thicker than my usual fare, to stave off the chill evening wind. We both donned our robes, but before we left, he sat me down on a cushion in the closet.

“Wait,” he commanded. He rifled through a drawer before producing a thick pair of knit stockings. He knelt before me.

Without words, he lifted my ankle, setting it upon his thigh, and gingerly pulled the stocking over my foot, up my calf. He sent zings of pleasure up my legs with every brush of his fingers. And he knew, judging by the look he gave me.

“We can’t have you freezing,” he said, voice low, gaze catching on the creamy skin of my legs.

“No,” I agreed, holding my breath as he tied the stocking, then switching feet.

He handled me with such care, those strong and brutal fingers barely touching my skin, yet deftly warming me up all the same. They were luxurious stockings—everything in the closet was new, never worn, made of the most expensive fabrics, from the most famous tailors and dressmakers—and I knew it was just one drop in the hat of his attempt to seduce me again.

I did not think Wright would ever spoil me the way Vince did, the way Vince was trying to make up for lost time.

When he finished, he leaned forward, his lips pressing a kiss to my knee. He never broke his stare. I couldn’t help biting my lip as I grinned at him.

He stood and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

“I’m not going to have to climb the side of the house, am I?” I asked once we were in the hall, remembering how he’d climbed the side of my family’s house, showing up at just the right time. Right when I needed him most.

Like he knew exactly what was going on between Lucas and me that evening.

“We’re not animals,” he laughed. “We’ll take the elevator.”

“You have anelevator?”

“Of course,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing. He pulled me down the main hall, away from his quarters, and toward the massive library. Our steps against the polished marble were dampened by our slippers.

He held my hand, our fingers interlocked, but the fit was strange, the way it is when you only just hold someone’s hand for the first time. But he seemed not to notice and turned a corner down a more narrow hall. At the end, a set of double doors.

“I had it built into the house,” he explained. “The architects recommended installing another in the foyer, if I was going to have so many guests, but I was quite partial to the elegance of the grand staircase. Clunky machinery would only make it ugly.”

But when we stepped inside, I couldn’t hear a whir or any clanking from the engine running the elevator. There was no operator, and there were only three solid walls, as extravagant as the ones in the hall, and an iron gate for the fourth.

“Does anyone use this?”

“It’s mostly for us.” He looked upward, like he could see us rising toward the sky. “Though we do have a smaller crowd of guests on occasion.”

“The… blood parties.”

His eyes flashed so quickly I must have imagined it. He nodded. “Yes.”

The elevator stopped, the doorsdinging open a moment later. He pulled me into the small space outside the elevator doors, not much more than a landing to step out onto, and another less ornamented door to the outside.

“And?” I pushed.

But in moments, we were on the concrete roof, the deep blue of the evening sky spread over us like a blanket. The stars shone through the haze from the city lights in the distance. I could see the tip-tops of some of the skyscrapers, blinking red and white amongst the clouds. The roof didn’t extend across the whole house, just amongst this one wing of the manor. There were walls at the height of my hip that created a barrier from falling, though low enough to look over.

The wind grabbed at my hair, twirling it around my head. I was thankful he had the foresight to bundle me up, because the breeze this high bit through my clothes.

I came to a stop at the wall, the stone rough beneath my fingers. Other parts of the roof, from above, appeared lackluster. It was like a whole new place, the glamor having worn off, to see it at this angle. The grounds sprawled out below us, seemingly on for miles, up to the Sound, the driveway a thin gray snake, the gardens a child’s sandbox.

There were views in the city you couldn’t see anywhere else that stole your breath.