Now that my lips are against her ear, I can’t wrench myself away. I wrap my arm tighter around Lolita’s waist, feeling her breasts crush against my chest. I can’t let her go. Not ever.
6
Lolita
His mouth against my ear makes a shiver run down my spine. Not a cold shiver, either. A hot, forbidden one. Slowly, Zacarias moves his lips against my earlobe, and then down to my throat. Surrounded by strangers and under the dim, shimmering light of the chandeliers, he kisses the tender spot behind my ear.
I hear myself gasp. I’m reminded of how it felt to be in his arms. It isn’t right that my stepfather makes me feel like the Black Fox did. My eyes drift closed and I whisper, “Please let me go.”
Zacarias’ lips move back to my ear and his hands tighten on me possessively as he breathes, “But we haven’t finished dancing.”
I try desperately to imagine that I’m in my hero’s arms, and that’s why heat is sparkling low in my belly. It’s the Black Fox’s large hand splayed on my back. The Black Fox’s chest that my over-sensitized nipples are rubbing against. The Black Fox who is making me pant and my core quiver with need as his hand dips further down my lower back until his touch is almost indecent.
The waltz ends, and I wrench myself out of Zacarias’ arms. I stare up at him, breathing hard, willing my feet to carry me far, far away from him. He’s gazing down at me with a hollow expression, almost like he’s in pain. I could bear his cruelty because it made me hate him, but seeing that the ache in my chest is mirrored in his eyes makes panic flood through me.
“Mi niñita.” His voice is roughened and low with emotion, and he reaches for my hand. He’s forgotten everyone around us. He’s forgotten he’s my stepfather. That my mother could be watching us at this very moment. He’s a man reaching for the woman he craves, and nothing else matters. For one long, terrible heartbeat, I want to go to him, too.
So I run.
I lift my skirts in both hands and force my way through the crush of bodies. Behind me, Zacarias shouts my name. I duck under a man’s arm and swerve around a woman’s frothy skirt, plunging deeper and deeper into the crowd.
There’s a potted palm on the edge of the dancefloor, and I force myself into the alcove with it, my chest heaving and my heart thundering. A moment of privacy, that’s all I need. As soon as I’ve calmed down, I’m going straight upstairs to my room and locking the door. To hell with the ball. Mama can yell at me in the morning if she wants, but I’m not risking that man coming near me again.
Finally, my breathing slows and I can stand up and look around. There’s no sign of Zacarias among the whirling bodies. Chin up, I step out from between the palm fronds and make my way around the edge of the dancefloor, carefully not meeting anyone’s eyes.
“Señorita. Señorita!”
I walk faster. If they’re talking to me, they can go away and leave me alone. A waiter steps in front of me, a glass of champagne on a tray. There’s a napkin lying next to it.
The man smiles and gives me a little bow. “From a gentleman who didn’t give me his name, with his compliments.”
I glance at it warily. There’s something on the paper napkin, and when I looks closer I see that it’s a sketch of a fox in black ink. My heart races, and I snatch up the napkin and open it, certain that there will be a message within.
Meet me on the mezzanine in ten minutes.
I sob with relief and hurry toward the stairs, leaving the bewildered waiter behind me, the paper napkin crumpled in my fist. There’s a mezzanine above the ballroom, and the music and laughter fades away behind me. It’s cool and quiet up here. There’s a large, dim room full of sofas, tables and bookshelves, and a corridor at the far end. I pick up my skirts and run, determined to search everywhere, hoping that I didn’t conceal myself so long behind the potted palm that he gave up and left.
As I pass an alcove, a hand reaches out and grasps mine. I see the flick of a black cape. A broad brimmed hat. Two dark eyes sparkling behind a mask.
The Black Fox scoops me against his hard body. Then his mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me like he’s as desperate for me as I am for him. I open my lips to him and his tongue caresses mine with the passion of a long lost lover. I moan against his mouth and wrap my arms around his neck. He’s here. He’s here.
He pulls away, panting against my lips, and I cling to the folds of his cape. I need him to obliterate what just happened. As I search his blazing eyes behind his mask, I feel love for him fill me from head to toe. He’s the one I crave.
I press my mouth against his once more. “Thank all the stars in the sky. You’re here.”
The Black Fox braces his hand against the wall behind my head and gazes down at me, his thumb rubbing over my lower lip. What I can see of his face is filled with so much tenderness. “You don’t even know who I am.”
I trace the bristles of his short, black beard with my fingertips. “Yes, I do. All I want is you. I’ve never begged a man for anything in my life, but I need you, Black Fox.”
“My sweet Lolita.” He groans and kisses me again. His hat is knocked to the ground and my fingers tangle in his thick, dark hair. Everyone feels very far away as our mouths crash against each other’s in the dim light.
“Why are you here?” I whisper, sliding my hands up his broad chest. “Are there criminals at the ball?
“No. I’m here protecting someone.”
“Who?”
He brushes his lips over mine. “You.”