All The Ways To Ruin A Rogue(53)

            “Hello,” she finally returned, her voice a shaky whisper.

            “Ah, she speaks. I knew it.”

            She inhaled thinly. Did he not recognize her, then? Perhaps he simply toyed with her. If she continued to treat him with aloofness, he would go away and she could somehow escape this night without being utterly ruined. At least she hoped so.

            He plucked her hand up and placed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Panic jolted her at his touch.

            “You know what else I know?”

            She shook her head fiercely, processing the sensation of his mouth on her skin. A warm little flutter sifted through her. It wasn’t unpleasant precisely.

            “I know ye . . . my lady . . .”

            He looked up, his moss green eyes holding her gaze in a knowing manner that made her stomach knot.

            “You must be mistaken,” she whispered.

            A slow smile curved his lips as he lowered his head to kiss the inside of her wrist again, this time lingering and letting his teeth scrape the sensitive flesh there.

            She sucked in a sharp breath. “You are too bold, sir.” She attempted to tug her hand free, but he held fast.

            He lifted his head, gazing at her as if he could see her face clearly . . . as though a domino was not covering half of it. His stare moved, roaming over her in her gown. She flushed, aware more than ever that it was a size too small and the bodice indecently low-cut. It might be pink, but it was not demure by any stretch of the imagination. Suddenly, she wished she was somewhere else. Wearing something else.

            He leaned in closer. “Is this place not for the bold? Lady Aurelia?”

            All hope died. She gulped at the very deliberate use of her name. There was no doubt now. He knew it was she beneath the mask.

            “I had hoped we would grow better acquainted.” His voice whispered for her ears alone. “I simply did not imagine it happening here. What a curious little minx you’ve turned out to be.”

            She considered insisting he was mistaken, that she was not who he thought, but that would be pointless. He could rip off her domino if need be. Or he could follow her home. There were any number of ways to verify her identity. “How did you know it was me?”

            “Not many English girls have yer coloring . . . or impressive . . .” His voice faded, but she could guess his meaning.

            The heat was back, flooding fire to her face. “You’re too bold, sir.”

            “Am I? I would not think anything too bold for a girl who frequents Sodom.”

            She clashed eyes with him. “Rest assured, this is not customary for me.”

            He nodded. “I surmised as much. I would have remembered ye here.”

            “So you often frequent this establishment, then,” she shot back. She supposed she should mind if a suitor spent so much of his free time at Sodom. If she cared for that suitor even a fraction, she should care.

            She gazed at the Scotsman looming over her with fresh eyes. He was certainly handsome . . . and yet she didn’t feel anything for him. Blast! It would be exceedingly convenient if she did.

            “It’s all professional, I assure ye. I like to keep an eye on the competition.”

            She shrugged. “It is none of my business.”

            “No? Well, I confess I’m surprised to find ye here tonight, Aurelia. What else might I learn of ye?” He trailed a fingertip against her collarbone.