Page 66 of Three Weeks with a Princess
From what Lia could tell, those activities seemed more prevalent than enjoying a light repast. She saw one man nestle a plump strawberry in the even plumper décolletage of his companion. The effect was rendered more licentious by the fact that the pair had dressed as a bishop and a nun, although the lady’s religious habit featured an extremely low-cut bodice and skirts that fell open to reveal her garters and stockings. When the bishop leaned over to gobble the strawberry up from between his companion’s breasts, Lia had to swallow a dismayed squeak.
That display, however, was tame compared to the activities of a couple on an adjoining chaise. The gentleman—and she used the term loosely—had a giggling and quite buxom lady who was dressed in the manner of a young schoolgirl perched on his lap. He tugged on her bodice until one of her breasts popped out like a pastry freshly baked from the oven. After pouring his champagne over her chest, he bent to suck her nipple into his mouth with what could only be described as a marked display of enthusiasm.
Mortified, Lia yanked her attention away to stare desperately at the back of the tall gentleman in front of her. Heat flushed through her body and perspiration began to trickle down her spine. Sucking in several deep breaths, she tried to calm herself even as she cursed her naïveté. She’d stumbled into the middle of an orgy and she had only herself to blame.
Barbara had begun a lively chat with a dandyish fellow dressed as a cavalier, so Lia had plenty of time to stew about her decision to attend the masquerade. Although she was well aware that a Cyprians’ ball was likely to involve inappropriate behavior, she hadn’t expected to stumble across outright nudity in the supper room. Surely there must be ways to find a protector that didn’t involve dipping one’s nipples in champagne or getting one’s backside groped by strangers.
When fingers brushed againstherbackside a moment later, she jumped and let out a squawk. She stumbled into the man in front of her, slapping her palms on his broad back to regain her balance. He whipped around and peered down at her, a scowl on his unmasked features. His gaze seemed to snag on her mouth, then slowly traveled down over her figure as horrified recognition dawned in his eyes.
Damn, damn, damn.
Lia’s heart began thudding like a hammer against an anvil and for a dreadful moment she was afraid she might swoon. The blasted man had seen through her disguise.
“Good God,” exclaimed Sebastian Sinclair. “What in hell’s name are you doing here, Miss—”
She slapped a gloved hand to his lips. “Miss Smith. My name is Miss Smith.”
Looking stupefied, he slowly removed her hand from his mouth. Lia briefly thought about dropping to her knees and crawling away into the crowd.
“Everything all right, love?” Barbara asked in a sharp voice. She planted herself by Lia’s side, regarding Sinclair with thinly veiled hostility. He, in turn, studied the actress with obvious disapproval.
“Yes,” Lia said weakly. “I know this gentleman. I think he’s just a little surprised to see me here.”
“Utterly astounded would be a better description,” he growled. “Whyareyou here, Miss Kin—er, Smith? Who are you with?”
She grimaced. “It’s rather complicated to explain.”
“Not that she has to explain herself to the likes of you,” Barbara said.
“And who the bloody hell are you anyway?” Sinclair shot back.
“I’m her friend. And who the bloody hell are you?”
“I’m her friend, too, and a better one than you if it was your idea to bring MissSmithto such an affair as this.”
Barbara propped her fists on her hips. “Now see here,” she said belligerently, “you’ve got no business lecturing me or her. Especially since I don’t have a bloody clue who you are.”
Barbara’s cavalier gallantly but unfortunately decided to intervene. “Sir, I do hope you’re not disturbing these ladies. I shall be quite perturbed if you are.”
Sinclair, who towered over the man by several inches, let out a derisive snort. “How terrifying. I suggest you mind your own damn business before I take you by the collar of that absurd costume and throw you out the nearest window.”
As the cavalier began to bluster, Barbara crowded forward, practically stepping on Sinclair’s toes.
“You listen to me, you sauce box,” she began, waving a finger in his face.
Lia grabbed her arm. “Don’t,” she murmured. “We’re attracting too much notice.”
Sinclair cast a quick glance around and let out a low curse. “You’re right. We can’t talk here. Are you truly without an escort to this damnable affair?”
Barbara started to bristle, but Lia kept a restraining hand on her arm. “We came with another friend and her gentleman, but I believe they’re off dancing.”
“By gentleman, I don’t suppose you mean Sir Dominic, Lord Lendale, or the Duke of Leverton,” he said dryly.
She couldn’t help a laugh. “You must be joking.”
“Right, then you shouldn’t be here. I’m taking you home this instant.”
“No, you are not,” she said, starting to get annoyed. “If you want an explanation, I’m happy to give you one, but that is all.”
