Disclaimers: See Chapter One
Chapter Three
They stood motionless, lost in each other eyes. She struggled to suppress a shiver as his thumb swept over her fingers, in a gentle caress.
"Laird?" She inquired her voice husky and low, a siren's call to all who heard its dulcet murmur.
"Now that would defeat the purpose of the masquerade," Iain teased, with a deep, rich laugh. "Call me Iain."
"That wouldn't proper," she replied, an eyebrow arching in challenge. "Are you trying to lead me astray within moments of our meeting, sir?"
"Nay, my name spoken from your mesmerizing lips can only be transformed into a word of purity and innocence. What could be more proper and just, than words uttered by one of heaven's earthbound angels?" Iain reasoned smoothly, his hand continuing its maddening caress along her palm.
"You compare me to an angel but for all you know I could be the devil in disguise." She retorted, looking coquettishly at him under half closed lashes.
"Evil has never looked as beautiful and as tempting as you do right now. Your skin gleams like a flawless pearl in the soft candlelight and your auburn hair in a fiery halo about your goddess like face. If you are indeed the devil, you've captured me easily, but I'd be content to remain at your side all eve, waiting on your every desire and need," Iain professed in a soft whisper, audible only to her while he flashed her a dimpled smile, "Perhaps a stroll in the gardens, in order to learn more of each other."
Catherine hesitated, innocent flirting with a masked stranger was often done at these balls but the intimacy of a midnight stroll was dangerous. She was almost engaged to marry, if Patrick learned of this escapade he'd call off the marriage and her family name and honour would be destroyed forever.
"I can't," she stated, backing away from him and pulling her hand from his distracting grasp. Her hands clenched into fists and she hid them within the fabric of her gown.
"You can," he murmured, drawing her back towards him, enjoying the cat and mouse game they were playing. "Are you married?"
"No, but soon to be engaged," she replied, pulling against his soft hold.
"Have the bans been read?" Iain asked, trapping her in his intense, heated look, knowing the answer already.
"Not yet but..."
"Hush, an innocent stroll won't bring about your downfall. I promise to be on my best behaviour," Iain promised, mentally crossing his fingers. He needed to be alone with her, something deeper than vengeance compelled him to seduce her to his side. 'Lust, probably' he thought silently, masking a smirk as he watched her fidget under his stare.
"Thomas can vouch for my word of honour, if that eases your mind." Iain continued, trying to charm her.
Catherine looked at him suspiciously and a frown began to develop at his words. She placed her hands on her waist, and with her movement, allowed a delightful view of her bountiful flesh.
Iain stifled a groan as her creamy mounds rose and teased the fragile lace's edge. Reluctantly, he pulled his gaze to hers and bit back a chuckle. She stood before him, barely reaching his mid chest, but her gaze fiery enough to sear through his clothing and burn his flesh with her ire.
"How do you know Thomas?" She demanded, her eyes narrowed and her voice sharp.
Thomas and Belle had been approaching her position and had overheard her last question. Rushing to her side, Thomas quickly sought to banish her concerns.
"Catherine, we fostered together. I would trust him with my life," Thomas interjected, "He isn't one of the rakes or cads of society. If you choose to go out with him, you'll be as safe at his side as by mine."
Belle let out a snort of disbelief and shook her head, remembering their innocent stroll.
"Keep him a few paces away, Catherine. These lads are quick with their hands and their tongues drip smoothly with well practiced lines." Belle warned, winking at her irate cousin.
"Lady Belle, you wound me with such harsh criticism," Iain said quietly. "Catherine, I promise to be on my best behaviour or perhaps I should I be in fear for my virtue?"
They laughed aloud, their peels of laughter ringing throughout the murmurs of conversation.
"I think that I can resist your magnetism," Catherine replied, exasperated. "Shall we?"
He offered his arm and together they walked onto the balcony. The strains of a string quartet began to filter into the crisp night air. The sounds of a Viennese waltz serenaded them as they slowly walked down the path towards the garden.
The moon shone brightly in the midnight black sky, casting an iridescent glow unto the earth below. Tiny diamond like stars glittered in the distance, twinkling almost in time with the music.
Lit torches marked a clear path into the lush garden. Marble benches padded with violet silk pillows, were framed by sweetly scented roses, lilies and jasmine blossoms. Their delicate scent perfumed the air, tantalizing the senses of the nearby lovers.
As Catherine and Iain walked about, she cast sideways looks at him. His head bent attentively to hers, his eyes demurely gazing upon hers and his arm holding hers as they moved further away from the watchful eyes of the ton. The comfortable silence between them stretched until Catherine broke it.
"Why are you here, Iain?" She asked. "Surely, you had someone else and somewhere else that you'd rather be at."
He turned and looked at her in surprise, "I'm where I wish to be. I'm enjoying the evening with the most beautiful woman at the ball. Why wouldn't I want to be here?" He murmured.
The silence resumed and she watched him thoughtfully.
"Perhaps you need a few reasons as to why I am so eager to be at your side," Iain offered, grinning at her expression. "Your rosy lips tempt a man to claim them until they open underneath theirs. Your breath makes a man hunger for gasps of pleasure to be uttered from those petal soft lips. But it is your eyes," he purred, feeling her body stiffen against him.
"Your eyes tell a man of your hunger for more. Those blue eyes speak of a deep desire, begging for the right man to come along to capture and then release it, unleashing it from its confining tether."
"You shouldn't speak to me with such familiarity," Catherine spat, stopping abruptly and jerking her arm from his. The peaceful moment had been shattered by his taunting words and Catherine seethed in anger at his smirking visage. "Only my fiancé has that right."
'Patrick, your dear deceitful, murderous fiancé.' Her remark reminded him of the reason for his presence. 'She's only a pawn in your game.' He chastised himself, his voice echoed tauntingly in his mind as he tried to convince himself. He forced himself to go on with his plan.
"But does your body hunger for his touch? Does your heartbeat quicken at the thought of him?" Iain mocked challengingly, "Do you even realize how you looked when you gazed upon me this eve? I felt your glance across the crowded ballroom. You flushed under my ardent stare, you shone with unfulfilled desire and your breathing deepened to match mine. You were demanding that I take you in front of all of society."
"Thomas was wrong. You are a rake and a pig. I was foolish to come here with you," Catherine retorted, her voice rising with each word. She turned from him and began to walk away from his presence and his outlandish accusations. After a few steps, she turned back and called out icily," I pray that your family isn't aware that you are without a shred of honour and decency."
She stalked towards the balcony when arms wrapped snugly around her waist and she was pulled flush against a tense, muscular chest. Each agitated breath she took, rubbed her body against the firm arm and a slow ache teased her senses.
"Careful lass. A man without honour would have already stolen a few kisses and have been well on his way to taking more." Iain threatened with a growl, hold fast to her wriggling body. "You've been asking for me to take your body all evening."
"You are deluded, no doubt brought on by your pigheadedness," Catherine retorted, tugging at the iron hard arm about her. As her struggle didn't result in her release, she dug her sharp nails into his flesh.
"The dainty cat has claws," Iain remarked, enjoying her frantic movements as she fought to escape his embrace.
"Let me go you, barbarian," she demanded, kicking his ankle.
He grimaced and spun her to face him, "Cease, or pay the consequences, Catherine."
"Let go," she demanded slowly, her voice brittle and cold but glaring heatedly at him.
"Nay, I like you exactly where you are. Keep struggling," he urged her, laughing at her anger-flushed face.
The sharp sound of flesh on flesh echoed through out the air. Catherine stood, her hand covering her mouth in shock. Her hand tingled from the blow and the sharp imprint stood out from Iain' cheek. She had never struck another being and remorse rolled over her seconds after the blow had been delivered. She looked at Iain and cringed at the fury directed her way.
"That was a mistake, Catherine," he responded coldly before capturing her lips in a punishing, and bruising kiss.
His tongue pried her lips apart and swept in to mate with hers, demanding a response from her. He drew forth the battle between them, strategizing a retreat and advance into her moist mouth. Unwilling to accept anything, except her willing surrender to his touch.
Catherine's knees weakened and she clung desperately to his board shoulders. He overwhelmed her senses with each dip, caress and movement of his lips against hers. She moaned as his tongue teased the edges of her lips before darting within again and conquering her. Desire flared and she slowly began to feel light headed. Rage erupted within her. There was no tenderness, only a need to dominate and subdue. She tore away, gasping for air as she struggled to draw air into her parched lungs. Her glittering blue eyes met his smug ones.
She smiled up at him and gripped tightly onto his forearms. Inwardly pleased as he looked at her suspiciously. With a satisfied snicker, she kneed him in the groin and watched as he collapsed at her feet. No longer the proud smug male but a gasping babe clutching at his damaged assets.
A surprised gasp and a heartfelt groan sounded behind her. She turned swiftly and saw Thomas and Belle surprised faces.
"What happened?" Thomas demanded, cringing in sympathy at Iain' ball like figure.
"As you can see, Thomas. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Belle, please join me in the ballroom," she replied coolly, arching a brow at their stunned expression. She looked down at the curled figure at her feet and nudged it with a dainty slipper. "My Lord, I pray you enjoy the rest of the evening.
Without a backward glance, Catherine walked away from the prone body lying on the floor.