Page 8 of Twice Upon a Midnight
She tilted her head and unknowingly gave him a tantalizing view of her slender neck. “I walk in beauty like the night, remember?”
“Well, she walks in the night anyway.” He paused to level a challenge. Every inch of him hoped she would rise to the bait. “You’ll have to remove your mask for me to be certain if it’s beauty or not.”Please—please remove that mask and let me see you…
She wanted to; he could tell from the way the tip of her tongue darted out nervously to sweep across her upper lip. Instead, she volleyed back, “You first.”
Damn.Whoever this gel was, if she knew his brother, he’d be in trouble. They looked too much alike to hide their connection, and Spenser was having too much fun now in her company to risk chasing her away. So he changed the conversation. “Are you enjoying the ball, Cinderella?”
“Areyou, Prince Charming?”
He grinned.I am now.“What’s not to enjoy?”
She arched a brow and cheekily answered, “Men who step on your feet while dancing because they’re too busy looking down your bodice to pay attention to where they’re going?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he answered, deadpan. “I never wear my bodices that low.”
She laughed at his teasing. The soft sound wrapped around him like a velvet ribbon, drawing them together. Good lord, she was lovely.
Then her smile faded, and he felt the loss of it like the sun slipping behind a cloud on a summer’s afternoon. “You said beauty.” She bit her bottom lip. “Did you truly mean it?”
He dared to push away from the wall and close the small distance between them, then slowly reached behind her head to untie her mask. She didn’t stop him. Her only movement was a soft intake of air as he slipped the mask away and revealed her face.
Spenser stared down at her, his heart stuttering.
“Yes,” he finally answered, hearing an unfamiliar huskiness in his voice. “Very beautiful.”
“Do you really think so?” she whispered.
“Why would you doubt that?”
“Because…well…” She paused and searched what she could see of his face behind his mask. “You don’t recognize me? You don’t know who I am?” She swallowed, and Spenser longed to put his mouth on her throat to feel the soft undulation beneath his lips.
Instead, he satisfied himself by staring at her mouth. “Should I?”
“I suppose…not.”
She’d just lied to him, he knew. But if she wanted to keep her identity secret, that was perfectly fine with him.For now.
“And yours?” Her hand trembled as she reached toward his mask—
He moved his head away, just out of her reach. “Mine is definitelynotbeautiful.”
“Doubtful.” She repeated her earlier words, “You’re more attractive than half the men in attendance tonight.”
“A dubious honor.” He joined in the repetition, then shrugged. “We’re all in masks.”
She gently shook her head, her eyes not leaving his. “Appearance isn’t what makes a man attractive. It’s his intellect, his wit, his character.”
He nodded back toward the house. “His lands, his fortune, his titles.”
She lifted her chin. “Not to me.”
“Then you are a very unusual woman to be at a party like this.”
She let out a long sigh and murmured, “You have no idea.”
“Why are you here, then?”
She slid him a look. “Why areyou?”
