Page 37 of Forgery, Love, and Other Lies
“I did.” Her voice was deep and breathless. “What do you think? Is it too large? I wanted to hide as much of my face as possible.”
The diamond-studded domino curved elegantly beneath each dark-yellow brow and molded to the hills of her high cheekbones. Her nose—cute, pert—stood out, as did her lips—pink, kissable. But with the silk gown and mask, with her hair more elaborate and smooth, she looked an entirely different woman from the usually disheveled miss dressed in wools and velvets and impish grins. She was right. No one but he would recognize her.
Maybe this was allowable, then. Maybe he could have this night to give in to infatuation, boil it up hot so that it evaporated entirely. A good thing, in the end. Anyone who looked on them might recognize him, but they’d see him with a mysterious woman on his arm, a woman fit for his own professional mystique—beautiful, valuable. They would not know that her value went deeper than beauty, though, deeper than the diamonds on her mask. As with most things, Zander saw the true value. She was no rusted button or broken locket, no discarded piece of glass, but it was her imperfections that drew him, those things others would dismiss her for.
Yes, allow the infatuation control tonight, ride the emotion and connection like a horse running from all the demons of hell, then dismount when exhaustion brought them both limping into the dawn.
He lifted his head to reassure himself his conclusions were sound, that no one looked at them—at her—with recognition in their eyes.Hell. At least three sets of eyes did peer at them. But not with recognition. No. These men’s gazes gobbled up Fiona’s frame with ravenous hunger. With intention.
Zander tightened his hold on her once more. Infatuations were not so possessive. But that’s what roared through him—the wordmineon a wave of anger at anyone who might touch her tonight. He could not guess where such possessiveness would lead him.
“Are you well, my lord?” Fiona asked, squeezing his hand.
He found a grin beneath the boiling need and tossed it at her. Charming as could be, easy, as if nothing inside him had shifted tragically toward who knew what. “I’m quite well, considering the circumstances. How did you discover the time and place?”
Her turn to grin, but not a charming ruse, a real smile that lit her eyes and put a bounce in her step.
“Whatever it is, you think you’re quite clever, don’t you?” His grin turned true, too.
“I do.”
“So do I.”
She beamed brighter than the candles.
And he stumbled over his next words, finding it difficult to utter the simple statement. “Tell me… I mean how did you…” He huffed, tried again. “Tell me how you did it, then. Find out the location of the auction.”
“I’ve a shady contact. A boy named Thomas. I give him various items he desires, and he does various tasks for me.”
“Such as…?” Did he even want to know? Yes because it was bound to be amusing, bound to make him want to hug her tighter.
“Such as follow marquess’s brothers about London and report back when they’ve returned from their travels.”
For a red second, he didn’t understand. What marquess? What brother? May he rot in hell! Then it clicked, and the hot jealousy rolled away like a violent wave receding back into the ocean.
“You had the boy follow me about?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Yes. My apologies, but you were not being entirely helpful at the time. I would, in fact, do it again if necessary.”
“Minx. Well, how did this Thomas discover details I did not wish you to have?”
“High-handed, that’s what you are. You’ve no right to keep details from me. You’re not my father or brother or husband. And even then… I do not think I would marry a man who would keep secrets from me.”
His gut clenched, but he found himself nodding. “Clever woman. You know your worth.”
She ducked her head, hid her face. Shame, that. He’d hoped the compliment would turn her into a star once more so he could look on it again.
“Tom asked about,” she mumbled toward their feet. “Discovered Currington was hosting the event at his own home.”
He groaned. “I should never have given you Currington’s name.”
Her head popped up, and she peered at him. “Why did you?”
“I wanted to give yousomething. I felt bad, if you can believe it, keeping you in the dark when you only wanted to be a participant in it all. When you have a right to be involved.”
Her lips parted on an almost imperceptible inhale. Sharp and tiny, he would not have noticed it had they not been so close. Then she shook it off, whatever it was that had caused that gasp.
“Well, guilt does not quite make up for the trouble you caused poor Tom. I’ve promised him a new pair of shoes for the ones he wore out running all about London.”
