Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You are new,” the handsome masked man mused.
Behind her mask Ophelia smirked, and let him twirl her into the sultry steps of a dance she did not know.
“How would you know?” She coyly asked.
His deep chuckle rumbled in her ear he twirled her again. It did not feel as delicious or as pleasurable as it did when Tristan had touched her, but she allowed it all the same.
“I suppose you are right,” the man mused, moving her along with the rhythm of the music, “However I am sure I would recognize these delectable curves if I had seen them once before.”
Ophelia had to give Tristan that. He knew how to dress a woman to highlight her best attributes, and for Ophelia, those were her curves.
They were not as punctuated as some of the hour-glass shaped women that frequented the club, but they were not small either, and the way the dress wrapped around her showed them off perfectly.
“My curves are not often seen,” she confessed with a flirtatious tone.
“No?” The man mused, his masked face tilting down as he slowly eyed her from feet to forehead. Ophelia felt his grip on her tighten, and she felt a tinge of panic start to rise as he added, “Such a pity.”
“I prefer to see, not be seen,” she replied, trying to keep her carefree tone.
“Oh,” he said with a chuckle, his smile growing wicked, “One of those. I must confess enjoy watching from time to time myself.”
He spun her around again, the suddenness of it making her gasp, and her back was suddenly pressed to his firm chest.
“Though I would much prefer to have you than watch you,” he whispered into her ear.
She then felt his hands smooth down her waist, and immediately, Ophelia knew she’d made a mistake.
Tristan had warned her over and over about how flirtatious the Masquerade’s members could be.
She had even watched them be as such. Yet it was not until that moment that she experienced what such heavy flirting felt like.
It was blunt, even by her standards, and though she knew he did not mean to sound so intimidating, she suddenly felt very intimidated.
“I am afraid that is not an option,” she answered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “In fact this amount of touching is a bit too much for me.”
Ophelia felt a bout of fear move through, worried for what his reaction would be. To her surprise though, he spun her back out of his arms and joined their hands as they came to a stop.
“That is not a problem, dear lady,” he replied, “Thank you for your boundaries. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”
Behind her mask Ophelia’s brows flew up in surprise. That was all it took? Then she remembered Tristan’s rules for the club. How consent was always required. And she realized then, this was exactly how most members must have behaved.
“No,” she answered, offering him a small but sincere smile, “And I thank you for the dance. I am sorry that is all I could offer.”
“No apologies necessary,” her replied, bowing his head, “Let me know if you would like another dance. It would be my pleasure.”
Ophelia curtseyed as he lowered his head to her hand, but before his lips could even brush over her knuckles, he was suddenly pushed away. She gasped, stepping back as Tristan came out of nowhere and twisted the man’s arm behind his back.
“What are you doing?!” She exclaimed.
Tristan threw her a warning look to be quiet and addressed the man she was dancing with.
“Did you touch her without her permission?” Tristan demanded of the man.
The man grunted in pain, but he did not move to fight Tristan’s hold.
“We were just dancing,” he grunted out. “She did not tell me she belonged to anyone.”
Tristan let out a feral growl as his grip on the man tightened.
“That was not my question,” he snarled.
Others were starting to look on at them, but no guards had come to stop the fight yet, and Ophelia did not want them to either.
“Tr- Devil. Let him go,” she demanded. “He was just kissing my knuckles to end the dance. I am the one that approached him. He has done nothing wrong!”
Tristan grabbed Ophelia’s wrist as quickly as he let the man go, hauling her quickly back toward his offie.
Ophelia struggled to keep up with his large steps, and hated how many heads turned toward them as they made their way through the main hall and down the hall.
The moment they were back in his office though she wrenched her wrist out of his grip and peppered her fists into his chest.
“Ophelia, stop it,” he growled, batting her hands away.
“What did you do that for!” She demanded, ignoring his demand. She swiped back at his hands and pushed hard against his chest, enraged.
“He touched you!” Tristan snarled.
“No more than I asked!” She flung back.
Tristan stopped trying to still her fists and wrenched off his mask; revealing a look of pure bewilderment.
“You wanted him to touch you?” He asked.
Ophelia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as he reached out and tugged her mask off before she could stop him. She pressed her lips tightly together, glaring at him.
“Answer my question,” Tristan demanded, looming over her. “Did you want him to touch you?”
No, you idiot! I want you to touch me!
“Why does it matter?” She asked instead, keeping the burning thought to herself. “It is not as if I am yours? You made it clear by your actions this evening that you can barely stand to talk to me anymore.”
Tristan’s lips drew into a feral snarl as his nostril’s flared and his eyes darkened; making him look downright predatory.
“I never said that,” he stated, punctuating the word never.
“No,” she agreed, crossing her arms over her chest, “You have barely said anything!”
“My silence does not give you the right to break my rules!” Tristan snapped, pointing over her shoulder at the door. “You know you do not mingle with my members without me. You know that you are not approach anyone alone.”
“And why is that?” She demanded, then put up a hand to stop him from a tirade.
“I know you say it is for my protection, but I am starting to doubt that. What is the matter, Tristan? Worried someone else might want to speak to me? Touch me? Are you jealous?”
Tristan let out a bitter laugh that ripped through Ophelia’s feelings.
“Jealous? What do I have to be jealous of?” He asked, his tone cruel.
Tears stung at Ophelia’s eyes. Such cruelty had been a staple of their relationship at one time, but she realized right then and there that she had gotten far too comfortable with the more seductive side of Tristan.
Suddenly feeling foolish, she turned her back to him, and began packing up her crate.
“What are you doing?” Tristan demanded, “You are not finished.”
“I believe I am,” she replied, hating that her voice trembled. “No need to pay me for the fourth painting. I understand I am leaving it unfinished.”
Tristan’s hand wrapped around arm, but his grip was gentle as urged her to turn around. Part of her wanted to fight his touch, but the other part, the part that was growing soft and confused about what was happening to her, had her turning to face him.
“Ophelia that was far too unkind for me to say,” he said, his tone unbearably gentle. “Your accusation just caught me off guard.”
When she refused to look at him she felt his fingertips wrap gently around her chin and lift her eyes to his.
“I am not jealous, but I am protective,” he stated with a firm but gentle tone. “While you are under my employ you are mine to protect, and I cannot allow you to be hurt.”
For some reason, his rational explanation hurt more than his quick fire retort. Still, that did not stop the lust that flooded through her as the word mine slipped from his lips and she wondered- what would it like to be his? Truly his.
His caressing touch moved from her chin up to her cheek, sending sparks throughout her entire body. She needed to move. Needed to get away from him before her confusion grew worse.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, stepping closer, his eyes shimmering with regret, “I did not mean to hurt you. You do not deserve such harshness.”
“Tristan,” she breathed, closing her eyes to the arousal overtaking her, “Step. Away.”
“No,” he whispered, drawing close enough for her to feel his warm breath fan across her lips.
“Not until you understand.”
She forced her eyes open, immediately regretting it as she instantly got caught in his gaze.
She didn’t understand. Why he was acting like this?
Why she was reacting this way? She only knew one thing in that moment- she wanted to him.
Forgetting everything else and giving into that sole desire, she rose to her toes, and kissed him.