Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood 2)

Elliot offered an arrogant smile. "Exactly. You've done marvellously up until now. No one will suspect you have any other motive other than enjoying the gossip."

Leo shook his head, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth. "If it were anyone else asking I'd tell them to go to the devil. I'll speak to Lord Sudley, but that's it. If I'm not careful, all the willing ladies will be taken and my evening will be utterly ruined. Then I'll have to spend the night trapped in the corner while the matrons reel off a list of the latest debutantes' accomplishments." He gave a small chuckle. "Do you know they spend hours perfecting getting in and out of a carriage? Apparently, one must alight in a modest and genteel manner if one has any hope of capturing a husband."

Alexander laughed. "Perhaps someone should tell them there are much better things to do in a carriage that boast a much greater success of seeing them quickly wed."

"We are straying from the topic," Elliot interjected, pulling out his watch. "Let us part ways and reconvene on the terrace in thirty minutes. That should give Leo enough time to converse with Lord Sudley."

Alexander groaned as he looked down at Evelyn. "Please tell me I do not need to speak to anyone."

She smiled back at him. "We'll wander around, and you can see if you can hear anything of interest."

With Leo offering a curt nod, the trio walked back into the ballroom, leaving Grace and Elliot alone on the terrace.

Grace stepped closer to him as the air around them sparked to life. "I'm amazed Leo was able to learn so much and in such a short space of time. Although he does have one of those warm, approachable faces that would encourage the most hardened criminal to confess his sins."

Elliot glanced over his shoulder and then ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, the strokes soft and tender. Desire flashed in his eyes or perhaps they simply acted as a mirror to her own.

"Leo can read a person's thoughts. He can sense things others cannot. We all can. It is a symptom of our affliction. He picks up threads of feelings and knows how to respond."

They could all read a person's innermost thoughts? Surely not.

She could feel her heart racing as an obvious question sprung to mind. "Did you … can you read my thoughts?"

Instantly, she tried to clear her mind. To think of nothing was far more difficult than she imagined. She tried to banish all foolish notions of love and of living with him in Yorkshire. But she couldn't shake the bone-deep need for him. She couldn't stop the memories forming, of him buried inside her or the ecstasy she felt when her release pulsed through her.

"Can you?" she repeated trying to keep the panic from her voice.

"Sometimes. When my mind is calm. When your thoughts are more coherent. The more powerful the thought, the easier it is to read."

Judging by the sinful way his gaze wandered over her hair and mouth, she knew he was listening to her now. Terrified her mind would betray her and reveal a deep affection for him, she found her only hope was to focus on her physical need.

I want you, Elliot.

The thought barged past all others in its fight for supremacy, obliterating her fears for Caroline as it struggled for prominence. This infatuation she had for him overpowered all else.

Guilt was a potent emotion, too. Perhaps she should be mingling and dancing instead of fawning over her lover.

"No one will tell you anything," he suddenly said. "You're here tonight to serve as a reminder, as bait for the wagging tongues. Leo will discover Henshaw's address. He is extremely persuasive, and when we leave here, we will go there directly."

Grace stared at him.

"I feel your guilt," he continued by way of an explanation. "But there is no more you can do. I feel your passion, too, Grace. I feel it burning so brightly within you, I can't focus on anything else. My head feels dizzy, filled with the need to sate our desires."

Oh, she wanted him so desperately.

Every step closer to Caroline took her a step further away from him.

Was it wrong of her to act so selfishly?

Was it wrong of her to let others do her bidding so she could relish in the feel of her lover's warm embrace? Never had she put her own needs before the needs of her friends and family.

"Come," he said taking her hand, placing it in the crook of his arm and leading her back into the ballroom. "Perhaps it is the scoundrel in me. Perhaps I am guilty of being selfish and unfeeling. But I need to have you all to myself."

"Where will we go?" She offered no protest. How could she when every fibre of her being was addicted to his taste and his touch? A beautiful madness consumed her. She wanted nothing more than to be carried away to a place where all her wants and desires could come to fruition.

"Any place where we can be alone." There was a sense of urgency in his voice. He needed her, too, and all her worries were blown away like loose leaves in the wind.

As they made their way through the crowd, he led her out through a door to a narrow hallway. There were a few people milling about, and so they stopped, conversed, pretended to admire a painting.