it, and pointed to the door.
It was not even necessary to begin the count. All it took was a threat of exposure to send the crowd scurrying like rats. The stampede flowed around him, out the door. At the rear of the throng was the scantily clad virgin.
His arm came down to prevent her egress. ‘And where do you think you are going?’
‘You said...’
‘I said they should leave. You have no permission to do so. You came here to sell yourself to the highest bidder. Now you are mine, bought and paid for. You will not leave from this place until I am done with you.’ He grabbed the swaying tail of gold cord that dangled between her perfect breasts and led her back into the room.
* * *
She had come searching for a demon. Instead, she had found the devil himself.
Someone in the crowd had called him an owner. It would explain why Ben had vanished along with the rest of the men. Clearly, he was more afraid of losing his position than what might happen to her if she was caught here.
‘No.’ She tugged back against the tightening cord, stripping it from her wrists and throat. This was not as it was to have gone at all. Her plan had been working. Though he had worn a cape and mask, it had been obvious that Sir Nash had been the high bidder. His lisping voice was unmistakable. And then, this stranger had appeared and ruined everything.
It had been foolish of her to assume that anyone would protect her, should the plan go awry. Despite his promises, her supposed protector had not prevented a sale to someone else. Instead, Ben had given her a helpless shrug, recorded the transaction, and allowed the devil his due.
‘No?’ Beneath the half mask he wore, the club owner gave her a smile that was more of a leer. ‘What makes you think you can refuse? Surely you knew what sort of club Vitium et Virtus was when you joined us.’
‘Is that where I am?’ There had been no name on the black-lacquered entrance door. Nor had she expected there to be rules in a place that was so clearly lawless.
‘You are not a member, then.’ He folded his arms across his impressively broad chest. Though there appeared to be a masquerade in progress, he was not wearing fancy dress. But neither had he bothered with formality. He wore no coat, waistcoat or cravat. His shirt was open, displaying fine muscles and a smattering of hair.
She snapped her eyes upwards, away from the bare skin directly in front of her. She had never seen so much of a man’s body before, but she did not want this stranger to take her interest as something more than academic curiosity. ‘If I am violating your by-laws by coming here, you had best turn me out immediately, as you threatened to do with the others.’
‘When I am ready, not before.’ There was something in his tone that implied her release would be a long time coming.
The prospect was terrifying. But something else as well. Perhaps it was the musk of sin in the air that was going to her head, but the fear she should be feeling was supplanted by an emotion that was unidentifiable and vaguely pleasant. He was tugging on her belt again, pulling her farther into the room. ‘Where are you taking me?’ She struggled for a moment, before realising that the flimsy belt was the only thing separating her from the loss of her gown.
‘Into the light, where I can get a decent look at you.’ Then he laughed. ‘Not that there is much I haven’t seen, pretty one. Your dress is all but transparent.’
She’d thought it scandalous when she’d admired herself in her bedroom mirror. But if the plan had worked, she’d have been wrapped in a cloak and on her way home by now and not under the prurient scrutiny of this stranger. ‘A gentleman would not have looked.’
He laughed again, his gaze travelling over her body like a lover’s caress. ‘When did I claim that I was a gentleman? And why do you object to my wanting a closer look at what I purchased? If you had been bought by any other man in this room, you would have more to fear than admiration. Did you think your ravisher would close his eyes as he took you? Or were you expecting a magical rescue from some man who paid good money to do whatever he liked with you?’
He said it with such obvious scorn that she did not want to admit her plan had been something very close to that. Although the man standing before her had made no move to assault her, she doubted she would escape the evening with her reputation intact. Even if he turned her out without further questioning, she might be forced to find her way home without help. The thought of knocking on her own front door in the flimsy costume she was wearing made her feel even more naked than she had before. She gave a hurried tug on the neckline of her gown, trying to regain some scrap of modesty, only to feel it rip in her hands to reveal even more of her body.
‘Hell’s teeth,’ he muttered. For a moment, the air of menace he’d been projecting failed him and he seemed almost as confused as she felt by their current circumstances. He pulled the mask from his face and patted at his chest as if searching for a handkerchief in the coat he was not wearing that might wipe the nervous sweat from his brow.
‘You!’ Who else could it have been? The man had an unerring ability to appear, as if by magic, any time she did something remotely improper. But at least Frederick Challenger had been willing to snub her when he’d seen her in public. Now that they were alone, he could not seem to take his eyes of her. She ripped the mask from her own face. ‘The least you could do is look me in the eyes, Mr Challenger.’
‘Miss... Knight?’ Did the hesitation in his words mean that he was shocked by her presence here? Or had he actually forgotten her name?
‘You admit you know me, then,’ she said, triumphant. ‘How unlike your behaviour at the ball the other night, where you looked right through me as though I did not exist.’
His leer had become a sarcastic smile. ‘Does it really bother you so much when someone does not acknowledge you? Are you one of those young ladies so taken with your own allure that you cannot imagine a man capable of resisting you? Did you come here tonight just to gain my attention?’
How quickly his tune had changed, now that he knew her identity. When the masks were on, he had shown no signs of resisting her. In fact, she had been worried that the handsome stranger would insist that she follow through on the terms of the auction and that she might have no choice but to submit to some notorious rake.
The truth was both disappointing and annoying. ‘I do not give a fig, Mr Challenger, whether men are caught by my allure, nor did I come here to teach you some sort of lesson. The fact that you would suggest such a thing tells me all I need to know about you. You are obsessed with your own importance.’
‘As are you by demanding my attention,’ he countered.
‘It is a different thing entirely,’ she argued. ‘A lack of interest in another person does not normally translate into public rudeness. You make time to speak to every other lady in the room. But when I sought to be introduced, you walked away without a word.’
‘Because I do not wish to encourage your behaviour, Miss Knight.’
‘My behaviour?’
‘Every time I see you, you are doing something outside the bounds of propriety. Dancing too close to your partners...’
‘Not by choice,’ she said, thinking of Sir Nash.
‘Arguing with your mother...’
‘She
