Excerpt of Ravishing In Red by Madeline Hunter

Oh, goodness. Oh, heavens.

This day was definitely not unfolding the way she had
pictured.

She had not expected the Domino to be a gentleman.

She had certainly not expected a tall, handsome, young
gentleman with such a winning smile.

She was not sure what she had anticipated instead. She only
knew that it was not this.

He seemed not at all concerned by her presence instead of
her father’s, or by her declaration of having a pistol.

His manner remained amiable while he warmed himself in
front of the fire. He kept flashing those brief, stunning
smiles of reassurance.

They did not reassure her at all. Instead he struck her as
very dangerous.

That could be due to the way the fire’s light turned him
into a collection of hard angles, or the way his eyes
appeared much more intense and alert than his demeanor
required.

It could be the result of his wealth, evidenced in the cut
and make of that dark gray riding coat he had removed, and
the quality of the high boots and snug doeskin that encased
his legs. Even his dark hair was expensive, with the short,
wispy, flyaway cut that damp and wind enhanced rather than
ruined.

His appearance was the least of it, however. She could not
ignore the way the atmosphere in the room had altered with
his arrival, as if he gave off tiny, invisible lightning
bolts of power.

“Sir, I think that we should get on with the purpose of
this meeting.”

“With the weather, there is no hurry. Neither one of us is
going anywhere soon.”

She wished that she had not allowed him to come so close.
He stood no more than six feet away and towered above her.
She could not ignore his size, or the way he made her feel
small and vulnerable and at a bigger disadvantage than was
fair.

“I would still like to finish this in good time.”

One of those smiles half-formed, a private one that
reflected some thought in his head. “Who are you?” he
asked.

“Does it matter?”

“It may matter a great deal. For all I know, you thought I
wanted to meet a different Kelmsleigh, and you will leave
here with facts that you should not have. That could cause
an innocent, unsuspecting man grief.”

“I should say that is unlikely.” Her voice sounded sharp to
her own ears. He spoke as if his information would not be
good news. “However, since you fear making revelations to a
disinterested party, I will identify the Kelmsleigh who
interests me. He was employed by the Board of Ordnance. I
am hoping that your information relates to his position
there.”

His smile proved less amiable this time. A tad predatory,
if truth be told. It could be the harsh light, of course,
but— To her dismay, he stepped toward her with his
attention fixed on her face.

“I insist that you stay where you are.” She hated the way
her demand came out a fearful bleat.

He continued toward her.

She jumped to her feet. The shawl fell to the ground.

She did not aim the pistol but she gripped it soundly. “Do
not come any closer. I do know how to fire this.”

He halted an arm’s span away. Close enough that she could
see that his eyes were dark. Very dark. Close enough that
if she did fire, she could not miss. He ignored the pistol
and instead studied her face.

“Who are you?” he asked again.

“You call yourself something as silly as the Domino, and
you demand that I reveal my name? My identity is no more
important than yours.”

“What is your part in all of this? Are you an accomplice? A
lover? Perhaps you are a relative of one of the soldiers
who died? I would not want this meeting to start a
vendetta.”

His gaze all but skewered her and his scrutiny unsettled
her in the oddest way. For all his suspicions he kept
flashing that vague, appealing smile that offered . . .
friendship and . . . excitement and . . . things that she
should not even be thinking about at this moment. He had
the kind of face that made women silly, and it annoyed her
that she was proving more susceptible than this situation
should ever allow.

She raised the pistol just enough, so it did not point down
but instead out from her hip. He glanced at the weapon,
then his gaze was all for her face again. Only now he
looked like a man who had been challenged but knew he would
win the contest.

“What information do you have?” she demanded.

“How much money do you have?”

“Enough.”

“How much do you think is enough?”

“I am not so stupid as to bargain against myself. Name your
price.”

“And if you don’t have it?” He nodded to the pistol.

“Do you think to force me to reveal everything, no matter
what?”

Suddenly he was even closer. His body stood an inch from
the pistol’s barrel, and only a few more from her. She
looked up at him in surprise.

Her breath caught. He appeared very dangerous now, in ways
that had nothing to do with pistols. His gaze and smile
were intended to charm and seduce and he had released
something invisible to that end as well.

She doubted any woman would be immune to this man.

It was as if his masculinity spoke to her primitive self
and her mind had no say in the conversation.

She physically reacted even while she clung to a mental
shield. Wicked little arrows of stimulation shot around her
body. She valiantly fought to thwart his effect, but those
arrows just flashed along their exciting paths, ignoring
her ladylike dismay.

“It would be better if you put that gun down,” he said
quietly. “We met to be allies, not adversaries. Friends,
not enemies.”

He spoke the word friends in a velvet voice. She grasped
the pistol more firmly.

“Give the gun to me.” He spoke gently, but in a firm
command. His eyes reflected confidence that he would have
his way on this matter, or on any other that he chose. In
desperate rebellion, she cocked the hammer.

“Two clicks. You do know how to use it.” He scowled.

No longer a “friend,” he appeared hard and angry. “You are
being foolish. At least point it away from me. It might go
off accidentally now.”

“I will use it if I must. Do not test my resolve on that.”

“It is not resolve that I sense in you right now.”

“Then your senses fail you.”

“Where women are concerned, my senses never fail me. Not
this sense at least.”

He alluded to those stupid arrows and her breathless fear
and the shocking stimulation. He knew. Worse, he had
actually broached the matter out loud.

He studied her, weighing something. His gaze both lured and
frightened her.

That smile again, intended to put her at ease and to
flatter without words. “I dare not confide what I have
unless I know your role in this. You are an unexpected
player.”

“If you are paid, what do you care who hears your story?”

“I doubt you have enough money to buy, even if I were
selling.”

She worried that he was correct. Everything about him spoke
of the very highest quality. A golden chain arced on his
tastefully embroidered waistcoat, no doubt attached to a
golden watch. The ten pounds and gold locket hiding in her
reticule would not impress such a man.

She may have come all this way, risked molestation and
ruin, only to fail because the Domino’s demands were too
expensive.

He watched her as if he heard the calculations in her
head. “How badly do you want this information? You are so
pretty that I may give it to you in exchange for a kiss.”

“A kiss! I am beginning to think that you are a charlatan
if you would accept such little payment.”

“You value your kisses so poorly?”

“The value of any kiss is fleeting, no matter what its
worth.”

“What a sad moral. Also an untrue one, I hope. The poets
say there are some kisses that can sustain a person’s soul
forever.”

“The poets are idiots.” This conversation had taken a most
peculiar turn.

“I fear you are correct, but I hope not. Hence my offer. My
soul tells me that you may be the one woman whose kiss will
be of eternal value.”

What ridiculous nonsense. They both knew he was flattering
to his own ends, and a kiss was not even the goal. His
expression admitted the game even while he shamelessly
played it.

She should put him in his place and let him know that she
was not some silly woman who swooned and gasped just
because a handsome man with stunning eyes and a seductive
smile flirted.

Except, despite her mental scolds, she did feel a little
light-headed and giddy, if truth be told. She was close to
gasping. The flattery made her blood hum and sparkle.

“I must find out if you are that woman, of course,” he
said. “Since you do not want to trade, I am forced to
steal.” His head angled and dipped. His lips brushed hers.

Shock paralyzed her. A thousand flutters beat in her chest.
The thrilling little arrows multiplied and aimed through
her entire body. Roger had kissed her a few times, and
while the kisses had been very nice, the effect had been
nothing like this. But then Roger had not been a stranger
and the kisses had not been scandalous, dangerous, and
deliciously forbidden.

His lips did not just rest on hers. They subtly teased and
moved and pressed. A wicked little nip made her heart flip
and rise.

A new touch distracted her. Astonished her. A new softness,
moist and devilish. Good heavens, the tip of his tongue was
tickling the sensitive underside of her lower lip, evoking
shivers that cascaded down her body.

Within her daze she felt him gently grasp her wrist. He
moved her arm aside so the pistol aimed at the wall to her
right.

The weapon no longer separated them or protected her.

His grasp controlled her and the weapon, but this kiss
interested her much more than the voice of caution in her
mind that gave one panicked protest.

He moved closer. Her heart rose to her throat.

His right hand slowly moved around her neck with a stunning
caress of physical connection. Careful, but controlling.
Warm, but not entirely soft. The sensation of his skin on
hers, and the slight roughness of his touch, mesmerized
her. His hand evoked wonderful chills, until it cupped her
nape. He kissed her again.

Harder this time. More demanding. More aggressive.

He toyed with her vulnerability and asserted a dominance
that, heaven help her, she did not begin to know how to
resist. She no longer even noticed that she was being
wicked to permit this, or note that she had inexplicably
become stupid. A chaos of pleasurable sensations obscured
such sensible thoughts.

His left hand moved and covered hers over the pistol grip.
With caressing, careful fingers, he seduced the weapon from
her hold.

Her suddenly empty hand caused one thread of sense to
reassert itself.

What was she doing?

She opened her eyes, literally and metaphorically. What she
saw jolted her out of her daze.

The door stood open. And they were not alone. Another man
stood behind the Domino.

Her seducer stopped the kiss. Frowning, he followed the
direction of her distraction and glanced over his shoulder.
Alarm crashed through him.

“What the—?”

The intruder saw the pistol and rushed forward. The Domino
pivoted and thrust her out of the way. She fell with a
thump back in the chair.

A turmoil of movement blurred in front of her. The new man
threw himself against the Domino, sending them both onto
the floor. Another hand grasped at the gun while they
tumbled and grappled in a heap.

A loud crack snapped through the chamber. Then the intruder
was up and running, and the dark threshold swallowed him.