Her eyes fluttering open, she raised her face to stare at him. Despite her demi-mask, he could see those lovely eyes were dazed. Her hand rose to touch her lips in wonder, as if feeling the burn there.
She was profoundly shaken, he knew. He felt her trembling as she returned his gaze speechlessly.
Quinn was at a loss for words himself. He couldn’t recall ever feeling such tangible desire.…
The sound of nearby laughter served to break the spell.
Venetia visibly shook herself and pressed her hands against his chest. Reluctantly, Quinn released her and cleared his throat, quelling the urge to adjust his satin breeches in public. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d lost control of his urges so blatantly.
When he heard another nearby sound, this one an admiring male scoff, he realized the cawker was watching with resentment and envy.
“You have all the damnable luck, Traherne,” the young lord mumbled almost soberly. “ ’Tis a pity.”
“Pray take yourself off, Knowlsbridge,” Quinn ordered in dismissal. “You can see we are occupied.”
His voice was husky with passion but held enough authority that the drunken gamester did as he was bid and ambled away, leaving Quinn in sole possession of Venetia.
She was still flustered from his kiss, yet she recovered her tongue readily enough. “I should have expected you to act so outrageously, Lord Traherne.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What was so outrageous?”
“You did not have to kiss me.”
“It seemed the easiest way to prevent that fribble from pulling off your mask. I presumed you would not want to be recognized. Was I wrong?”
“No,” she answered reluctantly. “But I am not your dove.”
“You and I know that, but for his benefit, I needed to stake my claim to you.”
When her mouth curved in frustration, Quinn quizzed her. “I thought you would be grateful to me for saving you.”
“I did not require saving, my lord—”
Her voice had risen noticeably, and she cut off her exclamation upon realizing that they were the object of numerous curious pairs of eyes.
“Shall we take this discussion elsewhere, darling?” he suggested. “Unless you prefer to cause a scene?”
She clearly didn’t like his endearment, yet knew he couldn’t use her name if she was to preserve her anonymity. And she must have comprehended the wisdom of his proposal, for she nodded briefly.
When Quinn gestured toward the staircase at the rear of the gaming hall, however, she hesitated. “Upstairs, do you mean?”
On the floors above, carnal amusement was the prime entertainment.
“The pleasure rooms are the most appropriate choice if I am to command your services for the evening.”
Her lovely mouth fell open, but when he added in explanation, “It will give the appearance of your being my chosen inamorata,” she stifled her protest.
Before she could change her mind, Quinn swept out his hand, indicating for her to precede him. After another long study, she turned toward the stairs, the delicate line of her jaw set in a stubborn grimace.
Hiding a wry smile, he followed Miss Stratham. Anticipation lightened his previously sour mood and eased the physical pain of kissing an irresistible but resistant beauty, leaving him with a sense of unfulfilled promise.
His frustrating evening thus far was becoming more intriguing by the moment.