Mistress Read Free Page B

man.
    Masters was definitely not the sort who would tolerate humiliation of any kind.
    Iphiginia reminded herself that she had been in other precarious situations. Her recent year abroad during which she and her cousin Amelia had toured the ruins of Italy had not been without incident. There had been that rather nasty confrontation with a street thief in Rome and another equally dangerous encounter with a bandit on the journey to Pompeii.
    Still, Iphiginia was only too well aware that she hadnever dealt with a man whose reputation was of the legendary proportions that characterized the earl’s.
    The trick was to stay calm and in control, Iphiginia thought. She was dealing with a potentially dangerous adversary, but she knew from her research that Masters was a highly intelligent man. With any luck, he would choose to approach the coming confrontation in a rational, cool-headed manner.
    From what she had learned about him, she was almost certain he would not allow his emotions to govern his actions during the next few minutes.
    Almost certain
.
    Iphiginia saw Herbert’s brow furrow with uneasiness as he watched the crowd. She heard a sharp, distinct crack. She glanced down and saw that she had accidentally snapped the delicate spokes of her fan.
    At that moment the knot of people directly in front of her unraveled. A woman’s nervous laugh rang out and then was cut off abruptly. Men edged out of the way. Even Herbert stepped back a pace or two.
    Iphiginia suddenly found herself standing quite alone in the middle of the crowded ballroom.
    Marcus, Earl of Masters, came to a halt directly in front of Iphiginia. Because she had been looking down at her broken fan, the first thing she noticed about him was his hands.
    He was the only man in the room not wearing gloves.
    In a world where soft, elegant, graceful hands were much admired in a man, Marcus had the hands of a seasoned warrior. Large and powerful, they were the hands of a man who had made his own way in the world.
    Iphiginia suddenly recalled that he had come into his tide a mere five years earlier. It had been a bankrupt inheritance. He had not been born into wealth and power. He had created those attributes for himself.
    Iphiginia tore her gaze away from the riveting sight of his muscular hands and looked up quickly. Marcus possessed a face that could have been etched on an ancientgold coin. Strong, relentless and bold to the point of being harsh, it was the face of an ancient conqueror.
    He watched her with amber eyes that glittered with a fierce intelligence. His hair was very dark, almost black. There was a flash of silver in the curving swath that was brushed back from his high forehead.
    Iphiginia met his brilliant eyes. A shock of deep awareness and recognition flashed through her. Something that had been smoldering deep inside her for weeks suddenly leaped into full flame.
    This was the man she had fallen in love with, never dreaming that she might one day meet him. He was exactly as she had imagined.
    Iphiginia knew that the crowd was waiting breathlessly for her reaction.
    “My lord,” Iphiginia whispered so sofdy that only he could hear. “I am so very glad to see that you are alive.”
    With a heartfelt prayer that she was correct in her assumption that the earl’s curiosity would govern his reaction, she closed her eyes and sank gracefully into a mock swoon.
    Marcus caught her before she reached the floor. “Very clever, Mrs. Bright,” he muttered for her ears alone. “I wondered how you would extricate yourself from this tangle.”
    Iphiginia did not dare to open her eyes. She felt herself swept up high against Marcus’s chest. His arms were strong and firm. She felt oddly secure and safe in his grasp. The scent of him aroused a curious sensation within her. She was startled by the unexpected, deeply sensual pleasure she felt.
    She had never known anything quite like the feelings that were thrumming through her at this moment. She raised her lashes