Read Online An Offer from a Gentleman with 2nd Epilogue by Julia Quinn - Free Book Online Page B

on her glove, loosening it at the fingers the same way she had done. But then, rather than pulling it off, he brought his lips to the edge of the long glove, all the way above her elbow, and kissed the sensitive skin on the inside of her arm. “Also softer than silk,” he murmured.
    Sophie used her free hand to grip his shoulder, no longer confident of her ability to stand.
    He tugged at the glove, allowing it to slide off her arm with agonizing slowness, his lips following its progress until they reached the inside of her elbow. Barely breaking the kiss, he looked up and said, “You don’t mind if I stay here for a bit.”
    Helplessly, Sophie shook her head.
    His tongue darted out and traced the bend of her arm.
    â€œOh, my,” she moaned.
    â€œI thought you might like that,” he said, his words hot against her skin.
    She nodded. Or rather, she meant to nod. She wasn’t sure if she actually did.
    His lips continued their trail, sliding sensuously down her forearm until they reached the inside of her wrist. They remained there for a moment before finally coming to rest in the absolute center of her palm.
    â€œWho are you?” he asked, lifting his head but not letting go of her hand.
    She shook her head.
    â€œI have to know.”
    â€œI can’t say.” And then, when she saw that he would not take no for an answer, she lied and added, “Yet.”
    He took one of her fingers and rubbed it gently against his lips. “I want to see you tomorrow,” he said softly. “I want to call on you and see where you live.”
    She said nothing, just held herself steady, trying not to cry.
    â€œI want to meet your parents and pet your damned dog,” he continued, somewhat unsteadily. “Do you understand what I mean?”
    Music and conversation still drifted up from below, but the only sound on the terrace was the harsh rasp of their breath.
    â€œI want—” His voice dropped to a whisper, and his eyes looked vaguely surprised, as if he couldn’t quite believe the truth of his own words. “I want your future. I want every little piece of you.”
    â€œDon’t say anything more,” she begged him. “ Please . Not another word.”
    â€œThen tell me your name. Tell me how to find you tomorrow.”
    â€œI—” But then she heard a strange sound, exotic and ringing. “What is that?”
    â€œA gong,” he replied. “To signal the unmasking.”
    Panic rose within her. “What?”
    â€œIt must be midnight.”
    â€œMidnight?” she gasped.
    He nodded. “Time to remove your mask.”
    One of Sophie’s hands flew up to her temple, pressing the mask harshly against her skin, as if she could somehow glue it onto her face through sheer force of will.
    â€œAre you all right?” Benedict asked.
    â€œI have to go,” she blurted out, and then, with no further warning, she hitched up her skirts and ran from the terrace.
    â€œWait!” she heard him call out, felt the rush of air as his arm swiped forward in a futile attempt to grab her dress.
    But Sophie was fast, and perhaps more importantly, she was in a state of utter panic, and she tore down the stairs as if the fires of hell were nipping at her heels.
    She plunged into the ballroom, knowing that Benedict would prove a determined pursuer, and she’d have the best chance of losing him in a large crowd. All she had to do was make it across the room, and then she could exit via the sidedoor and scoot around the outside of the house to her waiting carriage.
    The revelers were still removing their masks, and the party was loud with raucous laughter. Sophie pushed and jostled, anything to beat her way to the other side of the room. She threw one desperate glance over her shoulder. Benedict had entered the ballroom, his face intense as he scanned the crowd. He didn’t seem to have seen her yet, but she knew that he would; her