As she watched, the gentleman drew down the woman’s bodice and lightly stroked her breast. At his touch, the woman arched her back and gasped.
Ria bent her head and took a hasty sip of wine. She was shocked by what she had seen but even more shocked by her body’s reactions. She fanned herself as her nipples hardened and breath quickened.
Taking a deep breath, she surveyed the room, trying to avoid looking at the couple while curiosity and innocence warred within her.
Innocence lost.
Unable to help herself, she looked back at the lovers. The gentleman was now lavishing attention on the woman’s other breast. As Ria watched, the lady reached down and ran her fingers up and down over the bulge in the front of his trousers. He groaned, murmured something to her, then lifted her skirts and slipped his hand between her legs. Both the woman and Ria caught their breath.
Blushing, Ria turned away, furiously fanning herself.
Concerned the temptation to keep looking would be too much, she moved away from the protection of the statue. Just as she did so, a gentleman, his domino open to show his orange brocade waistcoat, tottered toward her. Even from a few feet away, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Ria adroitly sidestepped him, skirted around the statue, and moved along the side of the room. But Orange Brocade did not give up. From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn, stumble over his long black cloak, then follow her.
Just as she went past an antechamber, a long, black-clad arm reached out and gently gripped her wrist. Ria gasped as she was swiftly pulled into the small room.
For a moment surprise held her motionless, but then she turned to look at the gentleman who held her in his grip. He was dressed all in black—black domino, black mask, and black waistcoat. Before she could take in anything more, Orange Brocade staggered into the antechamber.
Black Domino said nothing. He merely released her wrist, moved in front of her, and stared at her follower.
Orange Brocade peered at him, his bloodshot eyes clashing with his waistcoat. He paled, then abruptly turned and left, seeming rather more sober than before.
Surprised at this quick exit, Ria gave her rescuer a thorough scrutiny.
He was taller than her. His thick hair was a glossy black. Through the holes in his black silk mask, she could see his eyes were the dark green of the forest. He had an olive complexion and a strong jaw. An
d she knew that under the mask he had a face that was all angles and planes that together made an elegant whole.
She’d found him.
Ria resisted the urge to laugh as a heady mix of elation and relief swept over her, though it was soon slightly tempered by a dash of trepidation.
She looked at him again, but nothing she saw could account for Brocade’s hasty departure. The man before her did not appear overly dangerous—an important consideration in view of her mission and his role. Brocade’s reaction and his air of assurance made her pause—but only for a moment.
Remembering how the other women had used their fans, she flicked hers open and languidly waved it near her décolletage.
As her rescuer continued to look at her without saying anything, she broke the silence, her voice huskier and deeper than usual due to the champagne and herbs. “Thank you for your assistance.”
He inclined his head graciously. “You looked like you did not welcome his attentions, and he is known to be persistent.”
She nodded, “Yes, he didn’t look like the sort to be discouraged easily. I fear he has been freely partaking of the wine.”
“Most of the guests have. That’s to be expected by this hour. It’s unwise to be at this sort of affair alone and certainly once it grows late. Most people have coupled up by now.”
At the implicit reprimand, she closed her fan with a snap and stiffly responded, “Thank you for your advice.”
Reluctantly feeling the need to come up with some explanation, she added, “It is my first time.”
“Your first time? Was that why you were hiding behind the statue?”
She frowned. He had seen her? Was he the reason she had felt she was being watched?
When she nodded, he smiled. “Then, my Lady Persephone, allow me to be your protector and tutor. I would be delighted to initiate you into the delights of the earl’s bacchanal.”
Without waiting for a response, he took her arm and led her from the antechamber. Any doubts about what lay ahead flew from Ria’s mind when he touched the bare skin of her arm. Underneath her skin, sparks began to dance. She meekly went with him, distracted by the feelings generated by his touch.
As they entered the ballroom, the musicians struck up a waltz. Her protector placed his hand in the center of her back and pulled her toward him. She inhaled sharply as the sparks traveled up her arm and down her back.
Putting her hand on his shoulder, she was surprised to feel hard muscle. Obviously there was more to him than his well-cut clothes and casual elegance conveyed.