A Carnal Agreement (Regency Intrigue Book 1)
Page 12
Katherine’s eyes said she did not believe him for a second. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your companion?”
“I can hardly introduce someone I do not know, and asking your name would render our masks ineffectual. Would it not?”
Shifting her gaze to Cassandra, Katherine studied her closely. “Oh my. I do believe it is you. I thought at first I must be hallucinating, but that hair, you never were able to keep it contained.”
Cassandra barely managed to stop herself from lifting her hand to touch her errant curls. Katherine’s smile deepened. “I wonder what your darling husband will have to say about this?”
Finally, Cassandra found her voice. “I do believe you are mistaken in my identity. I am not married.” Cassandra forced herself to smile.
Katherine’s eyes narrowed. “So you say. Enjoy the party, but don’t get too attached to your dear escort. A woman like you hasn’t a prayer of satisfying him, especially when he remembers how I used to make him beg.”
Katherine slid her hand down Mark’s chest. He grabbed her wrist as she reached his waist. “You presume far too much.”
Katherine only laughed and walked away.
Mark pulled Cassandra in the direction of the refreshment table. “I think we could both use some champagne.”
Cassandra tried to look at him, but he avoided her eyes. The tension in his body told her he was in pain, but if he chose to ignore what happened, she wasn’t going to say anything else about it, at least not in public.
“I’ll wait for you here.” Cassandra wanted a moment to sort through the emotions stirred by Katherine’s appearance.
She expected him to protest. But apparently he was too shaken by his encounter. Instead, he said, “Do not leave this spot,” and walked in the direction of the refreshment table.
As her eyes followed his broad shoulders, a hand closed on the back of her neck. “I could not resist your curls,” a male voice said from behind her. His breath on her neck told her he was too close for comfort.
“I have not given you leave to touch me, sir.” She tried to sound annoyed rather than afraid.
Ignoring her request, he slid his fingers down her neck to caress her shoulder.
She stepped away, forcing him to let go. But he grabbed her hand and attempted to force it against the bulge in his breeches.
“Release me now.” Cassandra struggled to get away. Finally, the man complied and she stumbled, almost bumping into a footman carrying a punch bowl.
The stranger stepped forward until he was only inches away. “Do you like men to force you? Do you wish to pretend you don’t want what we all came for?” The man licked his lips and curved them into a particularly self-assured smile. “I’ll be glad to play any game you wish.”
Cassandra wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of him and his suggestions, but she stopped herself in time. If she and Mark were going to learn anything, they could not alienate the people in this set. She tried to force herself to smile though her stomach churned. “I am afraid I will be quite busy tonight. My companion has requested all my attention. He would not appreciate defiance.”
“I will have to convince him to share.” As he spoke, the man focused on her breasts rather than her face. “I’m generous, you know. I would let him watch.”
“I am afraid you will be disappointed. He’s rather possessive.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Cassandra thought he was going to press the issue, but he bowed and walked off. The air in the room was stale and smoky. She noticed a door leading out into a courtyard. Mark would be highly displeased if she went outside without him, but she feared she would faint if she didn’t get a breath of fresh air.
She stepped out, and the biting wind immediately eased the nausea that had risen higher every second the stranger’s hands had been on her. After a few deep breaths, Cassandra was ready to return to the drawing room. But as she turned toward the door, a man she didn’t recognize entered the courtyard.
“Good evening, Cassandra.”
She almost responded to his use of her name, but she stopped herself in time. “Excuse me?”
“A mutual acquaintance pointed you out as you left the room. I could not resist taking the opportunity to speak to you privately.”
“I’m afraid your acquaintance was mistaken in my identity.”
His lips curled upward, and Cassandra cursed the way his mask kept her from seeing his eyes clearly. “My friend said you might protest. But that matters not. I still wish to have a taste of you.”
He leaned into her, pressing her against the low wall lining the brick patio. His hands gripped her waist and forced her body against his erection.
She took hold of his wrists and tried to push his hands away. “I am sorry, sir. I am already spoken for this evening.”
He glanced around the courtyard. “I see no one about.”
She detected a slight French accent. He was covering it well, but it was there. Icy pins stabbed her neck, and cold beads of sweat trickled down her back.
She tried to keep her voice from shaking. “I asked my companion to fetch me some champagne. He will return shortly.”
“There are plenty of beautiful women inside. He can make do with them.”
Cassandra’s mind raced. If she could return to the house, she stood a better chance of escape. “Perhaps you are right. Why don’t we find a room where we can be alone?”
“I prefer to take you out here. There’s nothing like hearing a woman’s screams floating on the wind.”
Swallowing her fear, she thrust her breasts out and pulled her mouth into a pout. “Please, it’s too cold. Wouldn’t we be more comfortable in one of the bedrooms?”
“I am not interested in your comfort,” he snarled.
She wrenched her hands free and made an effort to push past him. He caught her and pulled her against him so hard the air whooshed from her lungs. He clamped one hand over her mouth and used the other to drag her toward one of the shadowy corners.
“Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you let her go.”
Mark. Thank God. When her assailant released her, Cassandra swayed and gripped the wall for support.
“Forgive me,” the odious man said to Mark, “the lady and I were indulging in a bit of fun while you were occupied.”
“I do not believe the lady thought it fun.”
“I assure you she did. I told her how a woman’s struggles excite me.”
“How dare you—” Cassandra cut herself off when Mark looked at her and shook his head.
Her assailant turned to her and laughed as he trailed his fingers down her arm. “It’s all right, darling. He won’t be angry. Everyone comes here with the intention of sharing their partners.”
Mark grabbed the man’s arm and yanked him away from her. “Never touch her again.”
The stranger tried to free himself, but Mark’s grasp held firm. “Unhand me.”
“I will not share this woman with anyone.” Mark shoved the man in the direction of the drawing room doors.
He turned back around and smiled. “Such possessiveness is a liability.” Then he disappeared inside.
“Are you all right?” Mark asked.
Cassandra paid no heed to his question. “His accent. Did you notice? I think he’s French. He knew who I was.”
Mark whisked Cassandra toward the door. “Do not leave the drawing room for any reason. Stay near the refreshment table. If I do not return, my friend Rhys Stanton is here. He is tall with black hair and blue eyes. He is wearing a brocade mask with silver feathers. Trust him and no one else.”
When they reached the door, Mark let go of her hand and disappeared into the crowd. Cassandra made her way to the refreshment table.
Prickles of fear raced up and down her spine. What if Mark never came back? If he caught her assailant, she had no doubt there would be a fight to the death. Mark had the advantage of size, but that did not guarantee his survival.
Tr
ying to keep her mind off the possibility she would never see Mark again, Cassandra contemplated what she knew of her attacker. Was Katherine the mutual acquaintance he referred to? She had known Mark and had seemed certain of Cassandra’s identity as well.
Long minutes passed. She saw neither Mark nor anyone who fit his description of Mr. Stanton. She sipped a glass of champagne and tried to look inconspicuous. A few men approached her, but having far better manners than the other men she’d encountered, they took their leave when she told them she was waiting for someone.
She was close to panic when she finally saw Mark striding toward her. He took her arm and drew her into an empty room, the breakfast room from its appearance. His eyes were wild, as though a fire burned inside him. He pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Did that son of a bitch hurt you?”
“No. Did yo—”
He gave her no chance to finish. “What the hell were you doing out there? I told you to stay where I left you. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, he could have—”
“A man made advances to me inside. I thought I was going to be ill, so I needed fresh air.”
Mark looked back toward the drawing room. “Where is he?”
“It doesn’t matter. Your calling him out won’t help our situation. Unlike the man from the courtyard, he is not a serious threat.”
“I looked everywhere. I couldn’t find him. I’m sorry.” Mark ran his hand through his hair, knocking his mask askew.
With shaky hands, Cassandra righted it for him. “I thought you were never coming back for me. I was afraid you’d been killed.”
He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest as she fought the tears she wanted to shed. “Tell me what happened.”
She explained that the man knew her name and how he attempted to seduce her and then used force.
“I should never have let you out of my sight. I won’t make that mistake again. But how the devil did he know who you were?”
“Possibly from my hair.” She frowned and twirled one of her loose curls. “He said a mutual acquaintance pointed me out. Could it have been Katherine?”
“Katherine’s a cold bitch who thinks of nothing but her own pleasure. Still, I cannot imagine her being involved in kidnapping and murder.”
“Reddington never mentioned her, but that doesn’t tell us anything. He rarely shared the names of his female companions.”
Mark took her arm. “Let’s go back. This time, do not leave my side.”
When they re-entered the drawing room, Langley was announcing the commencement of the evening’s entertainment. “What does he mean?” Cassandra asked in a whisper.
“Men and women will perform in order to inspire the audience to move on to the evening’s true purpose.”
Cassandra stomach flip-flopped. Surely she would not be forced to watch a scene like those her husband had provided for others. “Mark, I don’t know if I can…”
He must have seen the fear on her face, because he pulled her into his arms and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “No one will be harmed. Langley enjoys many exotic pleasures, but he’s an honorable man, unlike your husband. I would never have brought you here if I thought otherwise.”
The guests left the drawing room and entered the ballroom. It no longer looked like a space for dancing. Langley had re-designed it to accommodate his own pursuits. Plush chairs and sofas covered in rich fabrics had been placed along one wall. There were large pillows scattered about on the floor which was covered with thick, soft rugs. Cassandra longed to take off her shoes and let her toes sink into the silky pile. The far ends of the room were sectioned off by thin walls and curtains.
Mark pointed out a man standing to the side of the crowd. “There’s Stanton. We were at Oxford together. His conquests are legendary, but he would never harm a woman. He is one of a handful of men I truly trust. If you will give me permission, I will enlist his aid in our quest.”
Cassandra tried to assess Mark’s friend, but she registered nothing besides his flamboyant clothes and raven black hair before other guests stepped in front of him and obscured her vision.
Could she let Mark share her secret with someone she didn’t know? “How much will you tell him?”
“Only that Reddington is dead and you are being pursued. I will stress the need for secrecy.”
“You truly trust him?”
Mark nodded. “He’s the one friend who tried to warn me about Katherine. I treated him abominably when he did, but he was right, more than right.”
Cassandra hated the pain she saw on Mark’s face. “Tell him what you must.”
They took a place along the wall with the rest of the guests. Cassandra turned her attention back to the center of the room. A masked woman entered through a side door and approached the satin-covered mattress that lay on a low platform. She wore a white, feathered mask, a matching corset and a diaphanous skirt that swirled around her hips and legs, concealing nothing. Several of the men whistled and cheered.
A man, also masked but dressed all in black joined the woman on the platform. He carried several long pieces of thin rope and something that looked like a riding crop with long tassels dangling from the end. After setting his implements on a low table, he instructed the woman to remove what little clothing she had on.
Slowly, while swaying her hips, she began unlacing her corset. As she revealed the dusky brown tips of her nipples, the crowd applauded. Cassandra’s heartbeat accelerated. Despite her discomfort with the scenario, wetness pooled between her legs.
When the woman was completely naked, the man gestured for her to lie down. She did so, stretching her arms over her head and spreading her legs, giving the audience a clear view of her sex. The man knelt by her head and threaded one of the long strips of velvet through a ring embedded in the platform. Cassandra had not noticed it before, but now she saw that rings lined the edge of the mattress.
He took hold of the woman’s wrists and tied one of the ropes around it. The woman arched her back and wiggled her hips sinuously while making a low purring sound. Cassandra didn’t breathe as she watched the man tie the woman’s other arm and her ankles. When he finished his work, the woman laid spread out like a sacrifice.
The naked woman struggled a bit, testing her bonds. Her eyes were wide and her breathing rapid, but Cassandra sensed she wasn’t truly frightened. On the contrary, she looked thoroughly aroused. Her hips moved up and down restlessly like Cassandra’s did when she was so ready for Mark it hurt.
Cassandra meant to search the crowd for the man who had attacked her, but she could not stop watching what was happening on the platform. The man picked up the tasseled crop and brought it down across the woman’s open thighs. The woman jerked and moaned but made no serious protest. Instead she raised her hips toward her tormenter, silently begging for more.
Then the man shifted his focus to slap at the woman’s breasts, catching the tassels on her hard nipples. Cassandra gasped. The woman whimpered, but she continued to smile at the man.
Warm heat flooded Cassandra’s body. Her arousal embarrassed her, but she couldn’t prevent her response to the erotic scene unfolding before her.
***
Mark looked down at Cassandra and hardened instantly. Her eyes were wide, her face was flushed. Her breasts rose and fell quickly, all evidence of her intense arousal. Damn, he wanted to haul her off to one of the private alcoves and sink into her wet heat.
He forced himself to look away from her and scan the faces of everyone in the audience, but the man who had accosted Cassandra was not there. Katherine looked back at Mark as she stood between two men, both of whom freely ran their hands over her body. He looked away from her and noticed several men watching Cassandra, taking in her obvious enjoyment of the performance. He thought it likely their interest lay only in her sexual charms. Nevertheless, he would ask Stanton their names later.
He turned his attention back to the platform where the man worked his way across the woman’s
belly, slapping the crop across her skin. Several men and a few women continued to cheer and make suggestions.
The woman’s body was striped with light red lines, but the man had clearly done no real damage. She struggled against her bonds, but she also arched toward the lash every time it came down. Mark was quite certain the only thing she wanted more than the brush of the crop was her lover’s cock.
He had been afraid the entertainers would disgust Cassandra. He should have known better. A woman as passionate as she could hardly watch such a scene without receiving some stimulation, even if she told herself she should not.
He looked at Cassandra again. Her lips were slightly parted, and her hands clutched at the fabric of her dress. He could not resist taunting her. “If we were alone, I would take you right now. You’re wet and ready for me, aren’t you?”
She gasped and turned to him. He hadn’t intended to touch her where others could watch, but the fire he saw in her eyes did him in. He captured her lips and his hands cupped her breasts. Cassandra made no attempt to pull away, instead she melted into him. He kissed her far longer and more passionately than he should. By the time he pulled away, he was so hard he feared his cock would burst through his pants.
They turned back to the platform as the man undid his pants and positioned himself to enter the woman. She lifted her hips to him and pulled at her bonds. Mark couldn’t help but watch. Cassandra leaned into him and rubbed her bottom against his erection. He placed his hands on her hips and forced her to be still.
“Not here,” he whispered in her ear.
She gasped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
He took her arm. “We need some place private.”
The man and woman on the platform shouted their release as Mark drew Cassandra along. Plenty of the guests did not mind an audience for their coupling, but several couples and small groups headed toward the curtained alcoves at one end of the room.
***
Cassandra was mortified by the feelings the woman’s restraint had stirred. If Mark hadn’t stopped her from touching him, she might have exposed herself in the middle of the room. What is wrong with me?