As if he felt me watching him, he glanced over at me, stopping my heart with that smile and those dimples, with the way his smile faded into something hungrier. Slowly, he licked his bottom lip, his eyes moving from my face down to the bodice of my gold silk dress, where the tops of my corseted breasts rose into round swells. He shifted in his seat, not bothering to hide the fact that he was adjusting himself.
Hugh noticed and cleared his throat, his hand moving from the back of my chair to my shoulder. I wanted to shrug him off, I wanted to continue staring at Silas, but I didn’t dare. There was too much at stake. I glanced down at my lap, where my hands rested, trying to focus on the contrast between my skin and the gleaming silk. On the still-unfamiliar diamond ring on my left hand.
But Silas didn’t look away from me; I could feel the heat of his stare even across the table. “Castor,” he said, “didn’t you say there would be dancing?”
“Of course,” the Baron said. “After dessert.”
“Good,” Silas said, and that was it, but I still kept my head down all throughout the meal, answering Hugh in monosyllables and ignoring everyone else. I knew that if I spoke too much or looked up, my face and voice would betray the heat nestled inside my chest. The raw longing. Because the last time we were together here at the Baron’s…
Greed becomes you, Mary Margaret…
I decide what’s fair right now, do you hear me?
So tight.
So fucking tight.
I coughed, my face burning, my whole body hot and clenching at the memory of him fucking me, as if a red-hot chain had been wound around my cunt and then wrapped around my chest.
“Are you okay?” Hugh asked, an eyebrow raised, and I nodded, sliding my chair back.
“Just a little overheated,” I murmured. “Excuse me.” And I hurried out of the room, taking care not to glimpse Silas’s face as I did.
Molly fairly ran from the room in a rustle of silk and elaborately curled hair, and after she left, I found Hugh looking at me—staring me down. I gave him a small shrug, as if to say I was over here the whole time, I had nothing to do with it, even though we both knew the last part wasn’t entirely true. Whatever Molly had been thinking over there, her cheeks growing pink and her breathing growing fast, I would have bet the entire Coke estate that it had to do with me.
And Hugh knew it.
I flashed him my widest, happiest grin. He looked away, his jaw clenched tight.
That’s right, I thought. Be jealous. Because you’ll never truly have her, even if you manipulate her into marrying you.
Supper concluded without further incident, and we moved into the ballroom, where drinks were already circulating and music was playing. I danced with Ivy first, sweeping her away from Julian with a laugh and spinning her into the lively waltz the band had struck up.
Ivy’s hand was firm and warm around the back of my neck and her dark eyes were friendly, if a little feral.
“The last time you had your hand on my neck like this, buttercup, I do believe my face was between your legs,” I commented.
“I don’t remember hearing any complaining at the time,” she remarked dryly.
I grinned. “No, you didn’t. I was quite happy to be there. I don’t suppose there’s any chance that you and Julian would like an encore performance?” I meant it in jest…mostly. I wanted to stay dedicated to Molly, but even the most dedicated man couldn’t refuse his best friend, right?
She laughed dismissively, but a telling blush bloomed on her cheeks. “I thought perhaps you would be spending the night with Molly.”
My grin faltered. “I believe she’s taking her engagement to Hugh rather seriously.”
Ivy looked at me with a concerned expression. “And how are you feeling about that?”
Terrible. Shitty. Like my life is over.
“I have everything well in hand,” I said instead, twirling her so fast that her skirts billowed out around her legs. “I have a plan.” I didn’t mention that it was a terrible plan which essentially had no hope of working, because Julian would probably tell her that himself at some point, and also because Molly walked into the ballroom just then, and my world shrank down to a vision of gold and scarlet, silk and hair, and nothing else could exist.
“Go to her,” Ivy whispered in my ear. “Before Hugh does.”
It wasn’t very gallant to end my dance with Ivy early, but it was unthinkable not to go to Molly, and so I led Ivy off the floor as graciously as I could, and since Hugh was occupied in a dance with another woman, I strode over to Molly and took her hand without asking, tugging her onto the floor.
“Silas,” she said, her eyes darting around, looking for Hugh. “We can’t—”
“Even the strictest etiquettes allow for an engaged woman to dance, Molly, and this is hardly a house of etiquette. And besides, how can Hugh complain about us dancing while we are both in plain sight of him? We could hardly get away with anything with him so close.” I cinched an arm around her waist, pulling her body flush against mine while I leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Although, I’d like to try.”
“Silas…” her voice wavered, and there was that flush of red on her chest, like she was burning up from the inside. Blood went straight to my groin as I fantasized about pressing my body against her flaming skin, as I remembered how hot her ass was, hot and tighter than the tightest fist.
We moved to the music, stepping easily around each other, moving in perfect time to the music. Molly was a fantastic dancer and I liked to think I was not so bad myself, and I could feel the eyes of the room following us as we moved. I knew we must cut a captivating picture—Molly and her gleaming gold skirts and her red curls piled high and spilling over one shoulder, me and my perfectly tailored tuxedo and my wide hands guiding Molly expertly through the steps.
Molly wouldn’t look at me, however, keeping her face turned to the side, exposing the delicate line of her jaw to me. I wanted to bite it.
“Silas,” she said as we danced. “Hugh has…he is…he’s threatened to take the company away from me.”
I kept perfect, easy rhythm and I didn’t let my face betray the sudden flare of fury I felt, but I let my voice carry my displeasure with this revelation. “Explain. Please.”
And she did—telling me about the contract, about Hugh’s ultimatum, his demand that her fidelity start now. It explained so much about her behavior tonight, so much more timid and passive than I was used to from her, and it also explained why Hugh seemed to be so singularly possessive at dinner.
“You can’t be thinking of signing this contract, Molly,” I told her. We spun and came back to center, my hand finding the small of her waist again. I heroically resisted the urge to play with the laces and buttons there.
“What choice do I have?” she asked impatiently. “If I refuse, I get nothing.”
“Legally, you would technically get nothing either way. What if you marry Hugh and he reneges on his verbal agreement with you to allow you access to the company? What if you end up with nothing and married to him?”