She moved closer, trying to make out some detail of his face.
“It did leave me wanting.” The way he said it—a long, low rumble in his throat sent a shiver down Minnie’s spine. And not a bad shiver either. One that hit her core and made her breath hitch.
“How unfortunate,” she whispered back. “I thought I was very generous.”
“Mhmm.” His free hand teased the edge of her lacy mask. “I want to know who that lovely creature was dancing on the table.”
Minnie tipped her head up toward the ceiling, praying for some release from his sweet torture. She had been on her way somewhere, she had been thinking of something before his hand grazed her cheekbone. His touch erased it all away. “That would take away the mystery,” she answered, finally bringing her face level as his index finger idly traced the long line of her neck. Maybe she should confess before this game out of hand.
His wool suit brushed against Minnie, inciting another anticipatory shiver. “I still want to know.” His request was far from polite; rather a sweet spoken demand that she needed to ignore.
When she didn’t answer, he dropped his lips to the corner of her mouth and pressed softly, willing her to turn her head. She could not find it within herself to refuse. Her head fell back against the wall as his lips trailed a soft line of kisses along her cheek, all the way to her ear. The move was calculated and perhaps it was an influence of the champagne, but she grew a bit weak in the knees, especially as his fingers drew a burning line over her breasts. His finger dipped below her low neckline, stroking the delicate skin of her sternum with the well-practiced hand of a lover. A soft sigh escaped Minnie as his finger swept beneath her corset and grazed against her nipple in a sweet, fleeting touch.
“I want your mask,” Alex said, placing his hand back by Minnie’s ear.
“No.” It was all she could say without stuttering like a fool. She was still reeling from the man’s lovely touch.
“I can be very persuasive.”
“Try,” she challenged. “Monsieur,” she purred as his hand dropped to cup her breast.
He leaned into her, his lips floating above hers. Heat rolled off him, surrounding her bare skin. “This is a very pretty dress.”
Minnie arched her body under his, inviting him to kiss her, but he resisted.
“And this is a clever disguise,” he continued, his fingers reaching for the ribbon securing the mask to her face.
Minnie snapped her hand up to stop his advance.
“Such delicate gloves.” He dropped his lips to her nose, ignoring her attempts to stop his fingers from untying the black ribbon.
“And these are very ample. Perfection, really.” Alex dipped his lips to the crests of her breasts. His hand gripped hers and pushed it back into the wall as he straightened.
“Try harder,” she dared, staring into his dark eyes. If only she could make out their color...
His mouth flirted with the edges of her painted lips again. Her frustration grew as he withheld his kiss. The way he touched her, with calculated effort, void of feeling but full of temptation, was maddening. She opened her mouth to protest, only as Alex bit her bottom lip, worrying her flesh with his teeth.
Minnie was lost. He kissed with the trained skill of an assassin. One minute she was aware Alex had her pinned against the wall, the next, her body burned with desire as his tongue caressed the underside of her lip.
Minnie pressed against his body, her hand snaking into his silky hair. Oranges, she thought in the back of her head, he smelled of oranges when the rest of the dinner party had drowned themselves in the smell of bay rum and money.
His teeth tugged at her ear, drawing a sigh from her before his lips brushed against her hair. “You owe me forty-five pounds.” It was like stepping out of a warm bath into a snowstorm. “Mrs. Marwick.”
Minnie froze, then moved her knee upward and struck him in the balls.
“Ow! Anne,” Alex laughed, tears in his eyes. He gasped through the pain. “Anne!”
She pushed him away. “You’re despicable!”
“You’re delicious.”
Minnie looked over her shoulder as candlelight washed over his face. He was no boy any longer, and that was the shame of it all. “Leave me alone.” She didn’t slow her steps, even as he quickened his. Escape seemed fruitless. Let him rush after her, the annoying man.
His hand curled around her bare arm, hauling her backward to face him. He pulled at the ends of the ribbon, the mask tumbling to the floor to reveal the shock washing over her face. He held the bottle of champagne in one hand, a smug smile on his perfect, handsome face. “Just to make sure I guessed correctly.” He winked at her. “The dark hair was a distracting touch.”
Her hair was dyed with henna now. She followed all of the beauty trends, especially when companies paid for her likeness to grace their products. The latest had been a rose-scented complexion cream.
“You knew the whole time,” she spat, reaching for his foot to stomp on. Alex was quick as always and avoided her assault.
“It wasn’t the reunion I planned on either,” he said, laughing deeply. He rocked back onto his heels, his eyes sweeping over her body like the stroke of a confident hand. “Don’t act so spoiled. You almost had me fooled. I didn’t recognize you until you performed that clumsy curtsey of yours.”
There wasn’t a thing wrong with her curtsey. She stomped her foot. “You touched...you kissed...oh, I hate you, Alex Marwick!”
“Is that anyway to talk to one’s husband after he paid you such lovely compliments?”
“You’re the devil incarnate!” She swiped the bottle from his hand and threw back her head, gulping an unladylike swig of champagne.
“You’re a hard woman to track down...oh, what is it now?” Alex tapped his fingers over his lips, glee shining in his blue eyes. “Evangeline Dupree?”
That name upon his lips sounded like the harshest truth Minnie ever endured hearing. It was another lie after all. Somehow with him knowing it, her world fell from its axis and felt wrong. She shoved the bottle back in his direction, sending him a frustrated glare. It would be best to hold her tongue.
“Yes, Evangeline has Paris set ablaze. She’s a wicked creature. The siren of every man’s desires who is seductively innocent, coy. She hardly compares to the failed ballerina back in London.” The teasing in his voice faded to bitter mocking.
“Don’t you dare talk to me about respectability.” She yanked her arm free from his hold. “You were close to stripping me naked and taking me on the floor like every other hot-blooded male in Paris.”
“I would have had the good manners to procure a bed first.”
Her hands balled into fists at her side. “You’ve become a disgusting excuse of a man.”
“I’ve spent four years searching for...you owe me an explanation, Minnie Ravensdale.”
Five years. She had not heard anyone utter her true name for five years, and somehow, leave it to Alex to be the first to say it. Minnie slid down the wall in a heap of defeated blue silk.
He waved the champagne bottle in front of her face until she swiped it back and took another long drink. She played with the neck of the bottle until her hands stopped noticeably shaking. “I’m not Minnie,” she swallowed, “Ravensdale.” It would have been believable if only her voice hadn’t trembled.
Alex bent down, searching her face, his eyes full of pity. All she had to hide behind now were a few false names, and he had just robbed her of that escape. He sank down beside her with a sigh. Alex pulled his long legs toward his body and balanced one arm on his knee, prying the bottle of champagne from her hand. After a long drink, he handed it back over with a sheepish smile. “Perhaps we should start over?”
“You were having fun tormenting me, treating me like every other whore at this party. Is that how you’ve been spending your days? No more cheating at cards?”
“A-a whore?” questioned Alex, choking on her accusation. “Is that what you...” His voice trailed
off as his eyebrows reached higher and higher on his forehead, his hand looping in the air.
Minnie took another long drink, almost draining the bottle. The sudden reappearance of Alex in her life would only cause problems. They never could manage to live a normal and respectable existence with the other nearby. Having him find her at this type of party proved that they both had only grown more wicked and wayward during their separation.
“How much?” he asked, wearing a cheeky grin.
“I swear, if you weren’t so tall, I’d pummel you.” If it weren’t for that grin, she might have actually taken a swat, but she didn’t want to ruin it when his smile still made her feel...things.
“How naughty you’ve become.” He held his hand out for the bottle, but Minnie finished off the rest before handing it over, sticking her tongue out once she did. “And you’ve developed quite the thirst for champagne, I see.”
“I’ve developed the taste for a great many things. I’m no longer a child, Alex.”
He gave a disappointed look at the empty bottle before tossing it to the side. The sound of glass hitting the wall was the only sound between them for several minutes. “I’m well aware of that.” His voice developed a sudden somberness. “I know you’re lying.”
How silly of Minnie to forget Alex’s ability to have two conversations at once. One moment he was grilling her about her life at present, the next, about her past.
“No,” she shot back. It was important to keep her life separated. It wasn’t possible to be both Minnie Ravensdale and Evangeline Dupree. Where Anne Gibbons fit in, she had no idea.
“You’re mad because I know who you really are.” He faced her. “You’re furious because I’ve found you.”
Her hand wrapped around her middle as she focused on breathing. Everything was growing cold and there was an odd flutter inside her that refused to quiet. “Some twenty minutes ago you had your hand down my dress!”
“You let me put my hand down your dress.”
“I didn’t know it was you, Alex Liar.
“That makes a difference? I’ll pay for your time—”
Minnie reached over and slapped him across the face.
“I deserved that,” he said, his voice somber as he rubbed his cheek.
“Without question, you bastard.” She rose as quickly as the gown would allow and started down the hall once more, feeling as if she would be ill. Everything was wrong when Alex acted like the rest of the men in her life. He had meant something to her once. But the Alex standing before her now wasn’t a friend. Nor was he an enemy. He was a great deal more than one could box into a neat label. He’d always been good at spilling over all the corners of her life. He wasn’t a rogue, wasn’t a bastard—most of the time—certainly not a cad like most of the patrons who pawed after her at the dance hall. He was Alex, thoroughly and wholly consuming in his own way, a master of none yet the owner of her heart.
“Why do you keep lying to me?”
“If you don’t leave me alone,” she threatened, spinning around to find his tall body close to hers. She took a nervous swallow. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll tell Monsieur Peprin. He’ll have you thrown out.”
His eyes narrowed. “Ah, so Monsieur Peprin is your savior now? Does he let you dance for him? Are you finally a ballerina?”
Minnie could lose herself in those questions. She took a deep breath instead. “I’m not Minnie Ravensdale.”
“Funny, I had two persuasive gentlemen find me who were quite certain you were Minnie Ravensdale. They were none too pleased to learn that I was your husband.”
A laugh began low in her throat, a deep sound that slowly bubbled into a gleeful cackle. So, her uncle and Isaac had found Alex? Ha!
“That’s funny to you, is it?”
“Very much.” She didn’t want to think of her family. She missed them all dearly, especially Grace who continued to write. But even those letters had dwindled in the passing years. With the back of her glove, she wiped away the hysterical tears and turned to be on her way. “Leave me alone, Alex.”
“You won’t say any more?”
“No,” she shouted over her shoulder. She was close to the balcony now. All Minnie needed was some fresh air. Once outside, she could get her head on straight and return to the party and continue to entertain as agreed upon. She wouldn’t ruin this opportunity.
But Alex was thick as ever and followed. With the stomp of his foot on her train, Minnie toppled backward into his arms. “I wasn’t done with my questions, Minerva.”
She stilled in his arms, hanging upside down as if they were in the middle of a tango and he was catching his lover. His hair was no longer that horrid blond, but a warm gold. It fell from its careful sweep and hung by his blue eyes. She liked being there in his arms. The fine wool of his tailored coat was warm on her bare skin.
At some point during all of this, he had switched from French to English. The lyrical lilt returned, breaking through a practiced polish. Try as he might, Alex could not erase his past, though it looked like he was trying.
“It’s Minnie,” she whispered, studying the man Alex had transformed into since their separation. “Only Minnie.”
His thumb swiped the skin under her eyes, his brow pinched as he wiped away the kohl. He stopped short of her lips, igniting the ghosting memory of when he had kissed her those years ago. Two penniless and starving children, seeking each other’s comfort. And that sweet, gentle kiss that had warmed them both.
“Nice to meet you, Minnie Ravensdale.”
Minnie closed her eyes, for if she didn’t, she would kiss the prying man, and that would lead to more kisses, and perhaps bare skin and the regrets that came with the intimate meeting of naked flesh. So instead of kissing Alex, she nodded.
Chapter 10
Now that Alex had found her, even if accidentally, he could not stay away from Minnie. So, the fact that she now resided in the wealthy part of Paris alone should have troubled him. It seemed Minnie had somehow landed herself as the mistress of the one man who had the power to either make or crush Alex.
It should have stopped him, but he didn’t even pause as he knocked on her door.
The butler looked rather flummoxed, but ushered him into the sitting room. Alex was about to sit on a jade brocade settee, his eyes focused on the jaguar pelt on the floor by the fireplace, when he heard a thunder of footfalls down the main staircase. He turned, bracing his arm casually on the back of a winged-back chair in pink velvet. Everything in the room was gilded, a collection of bright colors and exotic collections. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had a parrot—as she once had—who would be flying around the giant palm ferns scattered across the sitting room.
Minnie entered with a swoosh of skirts, looking rather elegant in her morning dress. Her eyes lit up as she stopped short in the doorway and clasped her hands together. He wished she would have rushed forward with the hug she was fighting back. At least she seemed to have forgotten her anger from the other night. He didn’t blame her. He hadn’t been much like himself.
“Alex.” Her large hazel eyes were bright and eager, even if her body was poised.
He didn’t straighten as he answered, “Hello, Minnie.”
“Miss Dupree,” she corrected, crossing her arms.
So that was how it was to be between them? “Je suis désolé.” He straightened and pulled his suit in order. “Hello, Miss Dupree.”
Her lips settled into a straight line. “Why are you here, Alex?”
“Mr. Marwick,” he corrected.
One side of her mouth kicked up for a moment before it settled back into a straight line. She tapped her foot. “Well?”
“I came to ask if you would like to accompany me to the opera this evening.”
“I see.”
He scratched his brow, his frustration mounting. She had appeared happy when she entered, but she wasn’t allowing him to see that fact.
“I cannot accept.”
“Why not?” he shot
back.
“You didn’t dispatch a written invitation. Every gentleman knows he must ask with a written invitation.” She stuck her nose in the air, happy to have bested him.
He nodded then strode out into the hall calling for the footman to bring him paper and pen. Minnie remained in the doorway, silent as he scrawled a note on top of the gilded mahogany table in the entranceway. “Here,” he said, waving the note in front of her face.
Minnie raised an eyebrow, her face blank as she read the note, then promptly handed it back. When she met his stare, he thought he saw a light of appreciation or wonder in her eyes. He had learned a great deal since she left him behind.
“I still cannot accept.”
“For Christ’s sake, Min!”
She bit back a smile, her eyes wide again. “Miss Dupree.”
Alex crushed the note in his hand. “Then why not, Miss Dupree?”
“It’s rude to question why. I told you that I cannot accept. That’s my answer. Any other gentleman would take it in stride, and leave.”
“But it’s not a good answer.”
“It is perfectly acceptable. You should have sent this note three days ago, as proper gentlemen do. That would have been adequate notice.”
He shook his head, his hand raking through his hair as a frustrated laugh escaped his lips. “Proper,” he spoke aloud, as if saying it would make them both proper. Of all people, she should know he was far from a gentleman. A borrowed suit and some fancy manners shouldn’t trick her into believing otherwise.
“I’m attending with Monsieur Peprin. In his box. He’s my…”
“Owner,” Alex added bitterly. He’d heard of Peprin’s fascination with the ever coy but virginal Evangeline Dupree. It was an impossible balance of character to appear innocent when he knew Minnie would do anything for her chance at being onstage. She’d landed at the Moulin Rouge, but he guessed she wished to be a star at the Folies Bergère. Even in Paris, she was just as hungry for success as Alex was for making a name for himself.
“He’s my patron. He bought me this apartment, my clothes, he supports my dancing career. I might even begin acting lessons so I can become an actress.”
A Proper Scandal Page 11