Behind the Courtesan's Mask. Marguerite Kaye

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СКАЧАТЬ saying, astonished at her ability to dissemble, wondering if this was what Annalisa would do, instinctively feeling as if it was. Across from her, Troy uncrossed his legs. He had good legs. Too many men were either too fat or too thin to wear these knitted pantaloons, but not this man.

      “Fifteen hundred.”

      “I’m still not interested,” Constance replied, quite intoxicated now with her game, too taken up with it to notice the very real excitement quivering through her body. He really was incredibly well-built, this man who desired her to the tune of fifteen hundred guineas—an astronomical sum. He was not much older than herself, maybe early thirties. His skin would be smooth, not wrinkled like Granville’s. His muscles would feel hard against her skin.

      “Two thousand, then. And I know you are interested.”

      Low in her belly, a flicker of fire licked its way into her blood. As her gaze clashed with his, she encountered something there that made her shiver with recognition. His eyes were dark pools. His hair would be like silk to touch. His mouth, that sensuous curve of it, it would be like kissing an angel. Or a devil. Wicked. The fire in her belly licked its sinuous way down. If anyone could show her what true pleasure meant, it would be this man, she was certain of it.

      Not that she intended to allow him to do any such thing! But there was no harm in imagining, any more than there was any harm in teasing him a little further. Constance shook her head. “Paltry,” she said in her best not-interested negotiating voice, the one which she had last used to such good effect when taking her chickens to market.

      Troy got to his feet. In one sense, it didn’t matter how much he offered, for he had no intention of paying up. The idea was to entice her into agreeing, nothing more, suffice to make her see she had been found out, that her vows of fidelity to the poor love-struck boy were worthless.

      He would not actually go through with it. Absolutely not. Every fiber of his being should be repelled at the idea of touching her. Of kissing her. Of sheathing himself in her. She sold her body for money. She was haggling with him over the exact amount right at this moment.

      And yet, as he ran his fingers down the tender skin of her forearm, his erection strengthened. And La Perla shivered. She wanted him.

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