other circumstance. For once, she did what she wanted—gave in to
the desire to touch someone, to let him touch her in return. Deprived of this luxury for so long, Arista soaked up the feeling like a sponge.
She kissed Grae back with every ounce of longing in her body. It was him, the promise in his eyes when he looked at her, that was causing this reckless abandonment. This stranger’s touch
was igniting something wild inside her, something she could neither deny nor control. She wanted the kiss to go on and on forever.
He could be her way out.
Arista jerked away from the man and backed up, never taking her eyes off his face. His closeness made it hard to breathe. She pressed her hand against her chest to slow her frantic heartbeat. He
looked bewildered and slightly off-kilter.
Her lips still burned from his touch and she scrubbed a gloved fist over them. She had again been on the verge of asking him to take her away with him. And maybe he
would
take her with
him.
But would he if he knew who she was?
He did not know Lady A or her nefarious reputation yet. He did not fear or loathe her on sight. This was cruel. As if some bigger power was dangling a beautiful silver key just over her head,
promising freedom from her tarnished cage, if she only dared to reach for it. But Arista knew what would happen if she did: retribution, swift and deadly. Bones would find out, and he would do
worse than kill her.
“Please, tell me your name.” His voice sounded hoarse and it cracked with emotion. He already knew she would run from him again.
Arista choked on the reply. She wanted to tell him, but how could she? She was nobody. She had no past, no future. Nothing to offer anyone. She had no right to ask him to risk anything to help
her escape.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He moved as if to reach for her. Arista turned and ran blindly into an opening between the tall hedges. He shouted behind her, and her street instincts kicked in. She ran down a short path to
where the maze broke off into two directions. She didn’t think, just chose one and then another as the path split again and again.
The maze grew darker as she made her way deeper into it. There were only a few lanterns placed sparingly, with just enough light to illuminate a specific pathway. Probably the one leading the
way out. Arista chose the opposite way and the trail soon opened into a round garden. A single lantern sat atop a stone column. Most likely, she was at the center of the maze. She listened behind
her, searched for signs of pursuit, but heard nothing louder than the whisper of her own skirt.
Only then, when she was finally alone, did she exhale. She stood, gasping for air. All the carefully constructed walls that allowed her to live, to exist in this godforsaken life, started to
crumble. Twice now, she’d run from her very own glimpse of freedom.
It had been years since she’d really believed her life could change. Hope had given way to despair. No one would save her. No one cared about her at all.
Damn that highwayman to hell. Damn his touch that lit a spark of hope inside her again. She didn’t want to feel anything. Numbness was safe. It was the only thing that got her through the
horror of each day. Arista sank onto a stone bench and clenched her hands together in her lap.
Forget him. Forget tonight.
“A nice evening for a stroll, is it not?” Arista bolted upright. She had not heard anyone approach. The shadowy figure of a man stood next to an ivory-colored statue. The red tip of
a cheroot cigar glowed in the low light. Not the highwayman. There had been no smell of tobacco on him either time they’d met.
Arista was entirely too rattled and exposed to have any further conversations tonight. Bones be damned. Lady A could not properly do her job in this state.
“Pardon me for interrupting. I’ll leave you to yourself,” Arista said. She started to back away, when the man stepped into a small pool of light. He wore a
the desire to touch someone, to let him touch her in return. Deprived of this luxury for so long, Arista soaked up the feeling like a sponge.
She kissed Grae back with every ounce of longing in her body. It was him, the promise in his eyes when he looked at her, that was causing this reckless abandonment. This stranger’s touch
was igniting something wild inside her, something she could neither deny nor control. She wanted the kiss to go on and on forever.
He could be her way out.
Arista jerked away from the man and backed up, never taking her eyes off his face. His closeness made it hard to breathe. She pressed her hand against her chest to slow her frantic heartbeat. He
looked bewildered and slightly off-kilter.
Her lips still burned from his touch and she scrubbed a gloved fist over them. She had again been on the verge of asking him to take her away with him. And maybe he
would
take her with
him.
But would he if he knew who she was?
He did not know Lady A or her nefarious reputation yet. He did not fear or loathe her on sight. This was cruel. As if some bigger power was dangling a beautiful silver key just over her head,
promising freedom from her tarnished cage, if she only dared to reach for it. But Arista knew what would happen if she did: retribution, swift and deadly. Bones would find out, and he would do
worse than kill her.
“Please, tell me your name.” His voice sounded hoarse and it cracked with emotion. He already knew she would run from him again.
Arista choked on the reply. She wanted to tell him, but how could she? She was nobody. She had no past, no future. Nothing to offer anyone. She had no right to ask him to risk anything to help
her escape.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He moved as if to reach for her. Arista turned and ran blindly into an opening between the tall hedges. He shouted behind her, and her street instincts kicked in. She ran down a short path to
where the maze broke off into two directions. She didn’t think, just chose one and then another as the path split again and again.
The maze grew darker as she made her way deeper into it. There were only a few lanterns placed sparingly, with just enough light to illuminate a specific pathway. Probably the one leading the
way out. Arista chose the opposite way and the trail soon opened into a round garden. A single lantern sat atop a stone column. Most likely, she was at the center of the maze. She listened behind
her, searched for signs of pursuit, but heard nothing louder than the whisper of her own skirt.
Only then, when she was finally alone, did she exhale. She stood, gasping for air. All the carefully constructed walls that allowed her to live, to exist in this godforsaken life, started to
crumble. Twice now, she’d run from her very own glimpse of freedom.
It had been years since she’d really believed her life could change. Hope had given way to despair. No one would save her. No one cared about her at all.
Damn that highwayman to hell. Damn his touch that lit a spark of hope inside her again. She didn’t want to feel anything. Numbness was safe. It was the only thing that got her through the
horror of each day. Arista sank onto a stone bench and clenched her hands together in her lap.
Forget him. Forget tonight.
“A nice evening for a stroll, is it not?” Arista bolted upright. She had not heard anyone approach. The shadowy figure of a man stood next to an ivory-colored statue. The red tip of
a cheroot cigar glowed in the low light. Not the highwayman. There had been no smell of tobacco on him either time they’d met.
Arista was entirely too rattled and exposed to have any further conversations tonight. Bones be damned. Lady A could not properly do her job in this state.
“Pardon me for interrupting. I’ll leave you to yourself,” Arista said. She started to back away, when the man stepped into a small pool of light. He wore a
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