‘It’s your first time?’ he asked.
Her mouth opened in a small wordless gasp.
‘At the palace,’ he clarified, wryly amused while keenly aware of the fullness of her glittered lips. ‘It can be overwhelming the first time.’
Fascinatingly a telltale colour ran up her neck and face, visible despite the artful swirls of powder dusting almost every inch of her exposed skin. She was blushing at the most innocuous of statements.
Well, almost innocuous.
His smile deepened as he imagined her response if he were to utter something a great deal more inappropriate. Her body captured his attention, and he couldn’t resist stealing a glance lower.
Heat speared again, tightening his muscles. He dragged his gaze up and realised she’d caught his slip. Unabashed he smiled again, letting her know in that time-worn way of his interest. She met his open gaze, not stepping back. But still she said nothing.
Alone. Definitely unattached. And almost certainly on the inexperienced side.
Damon hadn’t chased a woman in a long while. Offers from more than willing bedmates meant he was more hunted than hunter. He avoided their attempts to snare him for longer, bored with justifying his refusal to commit to a relationship. He had too much of what women wanted—money and power. And yes, physical stamina and experience. Women enjoyed those things too.
But the possibilities here were tempting—when she reacted so tantalisingly with so little provocation? Those too-blue eyes and that too-sombre pout were beguiling.
He’d barely expected to stay ten minutes, let alone find someone who’d rouse his playful side. But now his obligation to Kassie had been met, he had the urge to amuse himself.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked.
Her pupils dilated as if she was surprised but, again, she said nothing.
‘I think I’ll call you “Blue”,’ he said leisurely.
Her chin lifted fractionally. ‘Because of my hair?’
He had to stop his jaw from dropping at the sound of her husky tones. That sultriness was at complete odds with her innocent demeanour. She was as raspy as a kitten’s tongue. The prospect of making her purr tightened his interest.
‘Because of the longing in your eyes.’ And because of the pout of her pretty mouth.
‘What do you think I’m longing for?’
Now there was a question. One he chose not to answer, knowing his silence would speak for itself. He just looked at her—feeling the awareness between them snap.
‘What should I call you?’ she asked after a beat.
He lifted his eyebrows. ‘You don’t know who I am?’
Her lips parted as she shook her head. ‘Should I?’
He studied her for a moment—there had been no flash of recognition in her eyes when he’d first spoken to her, and there was none now. How...refreshing. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m no one of importance. No prince, that’s for sure.’
Something flickered in her eyes then, but it was gone before he could pick it up.
‘I’m visiting Palisades for a few days,’ he drawled. ‘And I’m single.’
Her lips parted. ‘Why do I need to know that?’
That sultry voice pulled, setting off a small ache deep in his bones. He didn’t much like aches. He preferred action.
‘No reason.’ He shrugged carelessly, but smiled.
Her lips twitched, then almost curved. Satisfaction seeped into his gut, followed hard by something far hotter. Pleasure. It pressed him closer.
‘Why are you all alone in here?’ He offered her the second glass of champagne.
She accepted it but took such a small sip he wasn’t sure that the liquid even hit her lips. A careful woman. Intriguing.
‘Are you hiding?’ he queried.
She licked her lips and glanced down at her dress before tugging at the strap that was straining to hold her curves.
Definitely nervous.
‘You look beautiful,’ he added. ‘You don’t need to worry about that.’
That wave of colour swept her cheeks again but she lifted her head. There was an assuredness in her gaze now that surprised him. ‘I’m not worried about that.’
Oh? So she held a touch more confidence than had first appeared. Another shot of satisfaction rushed. His fingers itched with the urge to tug the wig from her head and find out what colour her hair really was. While this façade was beautiful, it was a fantasy he wanted to pierce so he could see the real treasure beneath.
‘Then why aren’t you out there?’ he asked.
‘Why aren’t you?’ Alert, she watched for his response.
‘Sometimes attendance at these things is necessary rather than desired.’
‘These “things”?’ she mocked his tone.
‘It depends who’s here.’
‘No doubt you desire these “things” more when there are plenty of pretty women.’ She was breathless beneath that rasp.
But he knew she was enjoying this slight spar and parry. He’d play along.
‘Naturally.’ Damon coolly watched her over the rim of his glass as he sipped his drink, deliberately hiding his delight. ‘I am merely a man, after all.’ He shrugged helplessly.
Her gaze narrowed on him, twin sparks shooting from that impossible blue. ‘You mean you’re a boy who likes playing with toys. A doll here, a doll there...’
‘Of course,’ he followed her smoothly. ‘Toying with dolls can be quite an amusing pastime. As can collecting them.’
‘I’ll bet.’
He leaned forward, deliberately intruding into intimate space to whisper conspiratorially, ‘I never break my toys though,’ he promised. ‘I take very good care when I’m playing.’
‘Oh?’ Her gaze lanced straight through his veneer, striking at a weak spot he didn’t know he had. ‘If you say it, it must be true.’
Appreciating her little flash of spirit, he was instantly determined to take very great care...to torture her delightfully.
‘And you?’ he asked, though he already suspected the answer. ‘Do you often attend nights like this?’ Did she play with toys of her own?
She shrugged her shoulders in an echo of his.
He
