Heloise jerked her head as Raven tugged on the ribbon.
“Stand still,” he ordered.
She tilted her head the opposite way, evading his fingers.
“Coward,” he said.
She pressed herself back against the cold stone.
“Come on, Hellcat. I already know what you look like.”
That was true. He’d seen her only a few weeks after her accident, when her face had been far worse than it was now. But her pulse beat erratically in her throat and she forced a light laugh to hide her sudden unease.
“You can’t hide all the time,” he whispered.
She cleared her throat as the ribbon loosened. “I know that. Wearing a mask on a daily basis is very impractical. The only people who can get away with it are highwaymen and executioners, and I don’t have the stomach for either.”
The bow came undone. As the mask dropped, she lowered her chin so her hair fell forward over her temple, hiding her scar.
Raven put his finger beneath her chin and forced her face upward. She squeezed her eyes shut. She knew what he would see: a thin, pale line that ran from her hairline down her forehead and into the edge of one eyebrow. It curved at the end like a sickle moon, ending just to the right of her eye.
Heloise forced herself to stand still for his verdict as the silence stretched taut. She felt utterly exposed. People rarely stared at her so intently. They usually averted their gaze out of politeness. Or disgust. But Raven had faced the worst devils in hell and lived to tell the tale. Surely if anyone could stomach her ravaged visage, it would be him?
His cool fingers skimmed her cheek as he brushed a curl back behind her ear.
“I know it shouldn’t bother me,” she breathed, giving in to the overwhelming need to fill the silence. “I never was going to be a great beauty. But honestly, when was the last time you read a fairy tale that started, ‘Once upon a time there lived an ugly princess…’? I mean, it’s perfectly acceptable forheroesto be scarred, at least until they’re transformed into a handsome prince at the end. Their ugliness is usually a punishment for being selfish…” She trailed off, uncomfortably aware she was babbling.
“You think your scar is a punishment?”
She snapped her eyes open, startled by the anger in his tone.
“Of course not. I got it saving Tony’s life. How could I regret it?”
His mask made it impossible to see his expression. Was it pity? Indifference? She exhaled a shaky breath. “Does it bother you?”
His fingers traced the line of her jaw. Heloise fought the treacherous warmth that slid through her, urging her to lean into his touch, to bury her head against his chest.
“No. It doesn’t bother me.”
The warmth of his breath slid across her temple and she suppressed a little shiver of awareness. The heat of his body seeped into her through the layers of clothes. Her heart pumped furiously against her breastbone.
“You were pretty before,” he whispered. “Pretty and perfect.” His thumb brushed her scar in the briefest of caresses. “That’s so boring.Thismakes you interesting.”
He stepped back and Heloise experienced a foolish wave of disappointment. She cleared her throat and gestured at his head. “Your turn.”
He lifted the snarling Anubis mask. Dark hair fell around his shoulders as he placed the mask on the stone slab beside her. She could barely see him in the shadows, but she knew the contours of his face as well as she knew her own, knew the startling effect of those green eyes against suntanned skin, the thick, black lashes that were wasted on a man. In her more fanciful moments she’d called the color of his hair “obsidian,” mainly because it was such a lovely word.
“So now we’re both naked,” he whispered wickedly. He stepped close again and her heart somersaulted as his eyes met hers. “Just admit it. Hellcat.”
“Admit what?” she stammered.
His lazy gaze dropped to her lips. “The reason you came here tonight. You don’t have anything to tell me. You just wanted an adventure. You want me to kiss you.”
She jerked back. “I do not!”
“Afraid you’ll like it?” he taunted softly.
“Hardly,” she scoffed.