Page 5 of The Truth About Myths
Who had dimples like that? A hazard, they were. One could get lost inside them. She bet many did. The humane thing to do would be to send an expedition. Women must be trapped there, dazzled. They were lured within and vanished without a trace.
Lowering the book, he aimed his gaze at her, raking her from the hem of her gown to the braids crowning her head. His demeanor changed from solicitous to speculative. It didn't take telepathy to see the wheels turning in his head. He found a lady alone carrying erotic tales. What would he do next? Assume she was fair game?
He gave her no alternative but to use her expression number seven, the one she’d been grooming to repel rakes. Lifting her chin as high as it would go, which was a lot given her flexible neck muscles, she looked down at him. Well, she pretended to look down at him, his lofty height making it deuced uncomfortable.
He tilted his head to the side, unaffected by her efforts. "Have I died? Are you here to take me to my heavenly abode? If so, lead the way, lady knight."
Isabel's chin dropped to her chest, and she stifled a groan. Why in Athena's name had she not removed the breastplate? "I played charades. The armor was part of my costume."
"I see… What were you? Penthesilea, the Amazon queen?"
"Joan of Arc," she said, hoping the martyr would cloak her in respectability.
"Saintly Joan carrying Sappho's poems… Interesting." He shrugged and leaned back over the garden wall. "Should we play a charade for your real name?"
He had not recognized her, even though her life-sized portrait crowned the gallery not a hundred paces from here. But the light was dim, and she wasn't wearing her tiara. Perfect. She would just retrieve the book and leave.
Isabel sucked in a breath, but before she could speak, he placed his finger atop her lips. "Don't tell me. Are you one of the princess' Vestal Virgins?"
Beneath his touch, her face flushed. Did they call her court The Princess’ Vestal Virgins? "How dare—"
"Did you leave Olympus on a night of revelry? I can't say I blame you. And if you ask nicely, I might be of help. Gardenia's performance was quite entertaining, but I’ll make an exception for a lady in need."
This was getting out of hand. She gritted her teeth. "Your Excellency—"
"Call me Henrique. I don't stand on formalities." He shrugged his broad shoulders, flaunting protocol with the same ease he flaunted his… his taunting male grins, and expertly cut male clothes, his male squinting eyes, and his gravelly, absurdly low male voice.
"Pity. I do." Isabel presented her hand, palm poised up. "I require the book. Now."
He seemed taken aback by her curt reply but then gazed at the cover. "Is it everything the critics claim?" Frowning, he flicked through the pages until one caught his interest. A devilish smile lit his face. “Come to me and loosen me from blunt agony. Labor and fill my heart with fire."
The words brushed against her, the breastplate no protection against such intimacy.
He closed the book. "I can see the appeal."
"It's not mine," Isabel blurted and cringed. Why explain herself to this man?
He studied her. "It isn't yours, but you want it back?"
Isabel raised her brows. "At least your observation skills are better than your literary taste."
He chuckled, and the sound lifted pinpricks on her skin. "Thank you. I'm proud of my senses. Especially touch."
Isabel crossed her arms above her chest. "Careful. Words enlighten the spirit, while the senses can lead you astray."
He came closer. "I've been allowing the senses to lead me astray for a long time now, but I would gladly give you the reins."
Was this the sort of banter that enthralled other ladies? "You should return to the opera singer, Your Excellency. Your company is quite tedious."
"Ouch." A rakish grin lit up his swarthy face. "The princess is doing us a favor by keeping you locked away. Your tongue can crumple a male's pride."
Isabel ground her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. She didn't imprison her ladies. She protected them from males like him! "If your pride can crumble so easily, then it was not much to begin with, was it?"
His chin dipped low, and he lifted his dashing eyebrows. "Do you blame the moonlight? Or is my presence enough to ignite such passion?"
"I don't allow passion to rule me."
"I know passion when I see it. Right now, it is staring at me with flaming green eyes."
