The Queen's Nine-Month Scandal. Эбби Грин

of the party’s guests, if he wasn’t careful.

      Disobeying the clamour of his blood, Daniel pulled back with extreme reluctance. He could see her eyes open underneath the lace of her mask but couldn’t make out their color. They were dark.

      Her mouth was pink and moist, slightly swollen even from that brief touch, and his body throbbed to wonder how those lips would look if he had kissed her as he’d wanted to.

      Someone laughed nearby, a high unattractive sound, and a cooler breeze wafted in from the water. Daniel could see her blink beneath the mask, as if waking up. She swallowed and looked into the room. Whatever she saw there made her go pale, when seconds before she’d been flushed. Their bodies were still so close that he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts against him. If she were to move ever so slightly, she would feel just how much he wanted her.

      She looked back at him and he frowned. Suddenly she looked hunted. She stepped back and immediately his body protested at the lack of contact. Daniel didn’t like the tendril of panic in his gut that she was about to flee. No.

      He put a hand around her slender arm. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

      Analia felt as if she had. The ghost of her future. That woman’s laugh had brought her back to reality with a bump. It lurked in the wings like a malevolent force, ready to break this spell. If it was discovered that she’d left—a sense of urgency infused her blood and panic gripped her making her clammy.

      As if sensing her turmoil Sasha asked, ‘What is it?’

      Analia willed down her panic, but what had she been thinking? ‘I should—I need to go. I shouldn’t be here.’