“Enough,” he growled, his voice a warning.
Another course came, interrupting the conversation. The first meat dish. What startled him was how red-faced and shocked Portia looked. Their eyes met. She looked . . . so unhappy, so disappointed.
It couldn’t be because she cared about him.
No—he’d broken her heart once and she’d told him it was now too late.
The guests attacked their food. Sin lifted his wineglass to his lips. He was supposed to study the guests, but he kept staring at Viscount Sandhurst. Sandhurst was drooling over Portia. Sin glared at the lad over his wineglass. Glowering.
The lad was kissing Portia’s hand again. She was looking impressed by his attentions.
Sin tossed back his wine. He had cost Portia more than he’d expected. He had assumed, when he’d broken the engagement, that she would meet another man and marry.
He’d never dreamed she wouldn’t.
Guilt sat on him. Hard.
How did he make amends for taking ten years of her life?
First, he could find out who kidnapped her.
Across the table, he noticed Sax’s gaze falling on Portia. On her full, natural pink lips. On her rounded bosom and the obvious slender grace of her figure. His friend’s brow rose in appreciation.
He’d been surprised to find Sax here. In truth, he didn’t know why his initial reaction had been shock—Sax enjoyed bacchanalias as well as he did. They had only a chance for brief conversation. He had mentioned the notes, the absent host. Sax had also received the note. And Sax was in agreement—something was off about this party. They had a missing host and the kidnapping of Portia.
Right now, he didn’t like the way Sax was studying Portia. The mask covered most of her face, revealing only the soft curve of her jaw and delicate chin, and her full, generous pink lips.
He caught Sax’s eyes. Across the table, he mouthed, “Mine.”
Instead of looking challenged, Sax just grinned.
He could trust Sax not to reveal the truth about Portia’s identity. And not to try to seduce her away. His warning hadn’t been necessary. Or had it?
After all, when he and Portia had seen Sax with Georgiana, Lady Linley, he’d heard Portia’s sharp intake of breath. She was staring at Sax. Just because she’d never seen a man fucking? Or because she liked the way Sax looked while he did it?
The man was damned handsome with white-blond hair, but long, dark lashes. At his orgies, women always swooned over Sax. It was irritating.
Now, he felt a sharp slam in his gut. What if Portia looked at Sax and wanted him? What if she wanted Sandhurst?
His plan had been to portray her as his mistress to the guests—with all the exclusivity that came with such a title—but she wasn’t his mistress. She was free. And, in that mask and gown, she was stunning.
Jealousy hit him harder than guilt.
The butler appeared. “Port will be brought in for the gentlemen. Sherry and coffee are available for the ladies in the west drawing room.”
An untouched dessert sat in front of him. The lone footman was moving from female to female, drawing back her heavy chair.
Sadie cooed, winked, and waggled her fingers at him. Ignoring her, Sin got up and went to Portia, who was heading for the door.
He stood in front of her. Through the holes of her mask he could see her huge gray eyes. “Where are you going?”
“For sherry and coffee with the women. As I’m supposed to do.”
“I don’t like you leaving my sight.”
“I shall be with all the women.”
“Women can be more dangerous than men, Portia.”
“Well, I shall take care of myself.”
Pulling away from his hand, which he’d settled on her arm, Portia followed the women. Sin wanted to go after her, but he realized this time alone with the men, before their brains focused on rutting, would be profitable. A time to question them.
At that moment, Sadie ran back into the room. Sin tensed, expected she would do something bold and daft, like jump on him. Instead she went to Sandhurst, who was still seated, and whispered in his ear, ensuring her tits pressed against him.
Sadie’s bosom just about swallowed up the lad’s head. Sadie left; then, blushing and swallowing hard, Sandhurst stuttered. “Have to excuse myself for a moment—have to go—something to do—”
“Know exactly who you’re going to do,” Rutledge sneered. “Though Sadie needs more than a boy just out of short pants. That girl can fuck until your head’s ready to pop off. Doubt you have it in you to keep up with her.”
Sandhurst gulped. But he headed out of the room anyway.
Sin went back to his chair, leaned back in it. Angry. Irritated. He used to love a good orgy. Now, he just wanted to get Portia out of here, take her home—