Read Online Midnight at the Masquerade by M.M. Brennan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: M.M. Brennan
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whirled and twirled around her, one colorful mask bleeding into the next. He appeared from the crowd like a specter, surprising her as he spun her around. Excitement flickered through her stomach. Had he been looking for her, too?
“Dance with me,” he said, his large, elegant hand outstretched. It wasn’t a question, but a command and she felt compelled to obey.
Krista took his hand lightly and without hesitation, enjoying the wicked amusement that flickered in his soft, expectant eyes. In a show, he kissed her hand, his lips feather soft and deliciously warm on her skin. She smiled and a throaty laugh poured from her with unexpected ease.
He wrapped one arm tenderly around her waist, and holding the other with fingers entwined, they moved together. Keeping their bodies at a careful, almost pious distance, he led with assured grace and poise unbefitting a man of his size. There was nothing uncertain or uncomfortable in his polished, languid movements.
Time slipped away, spiraling slowly around them, and Krista was blissfully unaware of the passing moments. She seemed to float, entranced by the soft melody of the cello and violins. Everyone around them faded into a haze, and her masked partner was the only thing that was real. They swayed slowly long after the last note had died, too enraptured to heed the songs ending.
Krista held on a moment longer, reluctant to release him. Their eyes met, and a certain unspoken awareness passed between them. The air in the room became electric, his undeclared desire almost palpable. Before she had time to consider her feelings, he took her face in his hand and brought his lips crashing down on hers. Krista’s lips soften as the kiss deepened. He tasted forbidden, yet innocently sweet, like whisky and butterscotch. He brought his arm higher up on her waist. Krista shivered beneath his touch as his fingers lightly grazed the swell of her breast.
A flood of bewildering emotions washed over her and she backed away, embarrassment and uncertainty driving her haste. He reached for her but stopped short, seeming unsure of his own feelings. An unexpected silence descended the crowd, and for an unreasonably illogical moment Krista thought everyone was aware of her feelings.
It took Krista a moment to realize the quartet had taken a break and the dancers were departing. Slowly, everyone abandoned the floor and she was left alone with the masked stranger. He handed her a single rose. Then before she could stop him, he melted into the darkness as if he belonged there. Maybe he did. Maybe she belonged there with him.
Jesters carrying trays of champagne and appetizers wound through the crowd. Krista followed the path the stranger had taken only seconds before. She pushed her way through the masquerading throng hoping to catch another glimpse of the mysterious man. She spotted the flutter of his black cape as he raced up the imperial staircase. She hurried after him, gathering her dress in her fists so she didn’t trip over the hem as she climbed the steps.
He turned to her and smiled, waiting for her at the opposite side of the interior balcony and she went to him. They were alone except for a few masqueraders wandering in and out of the open French doors. A warm breeze drifted in through the wide openings, whipping Krista’s hair about her face. He reached out with a gloved hand and brushed the unruly locks from her cheek.
Krista’s breath caught in her throat and her heart pulsed faster. He stepped in closer, closing the gap between them. He ran a gentle hand down her back and before she knew what was happening, he undid her dress. Krista thought she felt his fingers trembled as he pulled the pearl buttons from their moors. Excitement? Nerves? Krista couldn’t be sure. The butterflies had taken flight in her own stomach the moment his fingers caressed her skin.
She didn’t stop him as he pulled the collar of her gown away. The fabric
“Dance with me,” he said, his large, elegant hand outstretched. It wasn’t a question, but a command and she felt compelled to obey.
Krista took his hand lightly and without hesitation, enjoying the wicked amusement that flickered in his soft, expectant eyes. In a show, he kissed her hand, his lips feather soft and deliciously warm on her skin. She smiled and a throaty laugh poured from her with unexpected ease.
He wrapped one arm tenderly around her waist, and holding the other with fingers entwined, they moved together. Keeping their bodies at a careful, almost pious distance, he led with assured grace and poise unbefitting a man of his size. There was nothing uncertain or uncomfortable in his polished, languid movements.
Time slipped away, spiraling slowly around them, and Krista was blissfully unaware of the passing moments. She seemed to float, entranced by the soft melody of the cello and violins. Everyone around them faded into a haze, and her masked partner was the only thing that was real. They swayed slowly long after the last note had died, too enraptured to heed the songs ending.
Krista held on a moment longer, reluctant to release him. Their eyes met, and a certain unspoken awareness passed between them. The air in the room became electric, his undeclared desire almost palpable. Before she had time to consider her feelings, he took her face in his hand and brought his lips crashing down on hers. Krista’s lips soften as the kiss deepened. He tasted forbidden, yet innocently sweet, like whisky and butterscotch. He brought his arm higher up on her waist. Krista shivered beneath his touch as his fingers lightly grazed the swell of her breast.
A flood of bewildering emotions washed over her and she backed away, embarrassment and uncertainty driving her haste. He reached for her but stopped short, seeming unsure of his own feelings. An unexpected silence descended the crowd, and for an unreasonably illogical moment Krista thought everyone was aware of her feelings.
It took Krista a moment to realize the quartet had taken a break and the dancers were departing. Slowly, everyone abandoned the floor and she was left alone with the masked stranger. He handed her a single rose. Then before she could stop him, he melted into the darkness as if he belonged there. Maybe he did. Maybe she belonged there with him.
Jesters carrying trays of champagne and appetizers wound through the crowd. Krista followed the path the stranger had taken only seconds before. She pushed her way through the masquerading throng hoping to catch another glimpse of the mysterious man. She spotted the flutter of his black cape as he raced up the imperial staircase. She hurried after him, gathering her dress in her fists so she didn’t trip over the hem as she climbed the steps.
He turned to her and smiled, waiting for her at the opposite side of the interior balcony and she went to him. They were alone except for a few masqueraders wandering in and out of the open French doors. A warm breeze drifted in through the wide openings, whipping Krista’s hair about her face. He reached out with a gloved hand and brushed the unruly locks from her cheek.
Krista’s breath caught in her throat and her heart pulsed faster. He stepped in closer, closing the gap between them. He ran a gentle hand down her back and before she knew what was happening, he undid her dress. Krista thought she felt his fingers trembled as he pulled the pearl buttons from their moors. Excitement? Nerves? Krista couldn’t be sure. The butterflies had taken flight in her own stomach the moment his fingers caressed her skin.
She didn’t stop him as he pulled the collar of her gown away. The fabric
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