Demon Moon

ready, and she gratefully mopped her face with it. She glanced around them; everyone on the other seats and sofas was looking intently at something else.
    “Shit,” she breathed, her cheeks flushing. “Is there any other way I can make a spectacle of myself tonight?”
    “I could push up your skirt and take you here,” he said, shrugging lightly, but the intensity of his gaze when it lowered to her legs belied the casual gesture and tone. She looked, too; she’d turned toward him, and the linen had slid up to expose a few inches of skin above her boots.
    He brushed his fingertips across the sensitive inside of her lower thigh; her body reacted to the touch as if had been a kiss to her mouth, a slow lick through moisture and heat.
    “I could drink from you. Make you scream as you come.”
    “That would do it,” she said, her voice not much higher than a moan. Though she was tempted to adjust it the opposite direction, she tugged her hem down over her knees, smoothed the line of it. If he touched her again, she just might not be able to help herself. “Is that what you threatened Manu with?”
    “My sweet Savitri.” A smile teased his lips. “That was full on ten minutes. Was it terribly torturous?”
    “Not terribly .”
    His gray eyes gleamed with sudden pleasure. “I shall assume that my presence erased all concern for him from your thoughts, stifling your curiosity.”
    “Or I didn’t want confirmation that you’d been eavesdropping again. There are moments of stupidity I’d rather suffer with as few witnesses as possible.”
    “You speak of your shocking admission that you believe in ghouls and goblins?” He caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth, as if to hold back laughter. “Do not fear, sweet. I said it might behoove him to forget you admitted to such, and that if an explanation for his rejection must be given, he should say your beauty and intelligence overwhelmed him. Upon the realization he could never be a match for you, he sacrificed you so you could be with someone you would love. And that he will live in agonies for the rest of his life for cocking up his one opportunity with the woman of his dreams.”
    Her stomach dropped. To hide her dismay, she averted her face and collected her teacup from the table, drank down the last of the lukewarm contents.
    “Are you displeased with me?”
    She pressed her lips together, shook her head. “With myself.” Setting her cup down, she forced herself to look at him, met his questioning gaze. And she admitted it to herself, as much as she did him, “I did it on purpose, knowing what the result would be. And I have no idea how I’ve gotten to such a point that I tell the truth to people that don’t matter to me so that I can fuck up any chance of finding a husband in this community, yet I lie to Nani, who does matter, and whom my confession would have embarrassed the most. And I should be glad that you saved me from myself. But mostly I just want to leave here and spend the night in your bed, and not think about how I’m going to lie to Nani again when I do the complete opposite of what I promised her: stay at your house for a month, instead of meet with suitable men.”
    Though Colin had watched her steadily throughout, his expression unreadable, at the last his brows rose and he said, “I’m eminently suitable. Handsome and rich. A Cambridge graduate, though I confess I was far too interested in feminine studies to accumulate honors. You could claim to be trying me out.”
    Closing her eyes against her laughter, she pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to rid herself of the ache behind her forehead. “I just need to tell her.”
    “Yes.”
    She exhaled, nodded. Looked back up at him. Had she ever thought his eyes were cold? Perhaps a warm, sunlit winter. “What aren’t you telling me? Last night, I announced my intention to go home with you and you almost dragged me out of my chair to your bed. Why are we still here?”
    A wry smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I did not want to frighten you.”
    The shiver that ran up her neck wasn’t at all pleasant, but cold, clammy. “Should we be frightened?”
    His hands enfolded one of hers, brought it down to his upper thigh. A hard, steel length lay beneath the fine wool of his trousers. “Not precisely what I’d like you to touch in that location, but it’s there if you want it.”
    A gun. Either loaded with tranquilizer darts made with hellhound venom, or bullets