The Queen's Nine-Month Scandal. Эбби Грин

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СКАЧАТЬ clutched her glass and said innocuously, ‘It’s so incredibly beautiful here.’

      ‘Yes.’

      She looked up at Sasha but he was looking at her, not the view. Under his mask she could make out the dark intensity of his eyes and that they were gray, like a stormy Atlantic Ocean.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked then.

      Emboldened by the prosecco, the headiness of the protection of anonymity, Analia whispered, ‘Escaping.’

      She could imagine him raising a brow under his mark and he asked inevitably, ‘From what?’

      Analia looked away and gulped. Everything was slightly obscured from under the black lace of her mask. ‘From nothing...and everything.’

      She looked at him and lifted her chin. ‘And you? Why are you here?

      He smiled. ‘Because I was looking for you.’

      The words were only meant as a light flirtation. A platitude. The equivalent of asking, do you come here often? But Analia couldn’t stop herself from imbuing them with a significance they didn’t warrant.

      His smile faded then and he put down his glass of wine onto a nearby table. Analia tensed. He stretched out a hand and ran his finger down one cheek and across the line of her jaw.

      Suddenly he muttered roughly, ‘You’re so beautiful.’

      Analia’s skin tingled deliciously where he touched her. She blushed. No one had ever complimented her like that before. It wouldn’t be appropriate. ‘Thank you,’ she said huskily.

      As if unable to help himself, he moved closer and his hand snaked around to the back of Analia’s neck, under her hair. She felt unbearably sensitized and languorous all at once. Unable to stop him. Not wanting to stop him. Not even when he pulled her close enough so that she could feel the latent strength of his body next to hers.

      His head dipped and her eyes fluttered closed as that wickedly sensuous mouth settled over hers. Tasting, touching, so delicately that she might have imagined it. And yet, it burned like a brand.

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