Free The Sins of Viscount Sutherland by Samantha James

surely live here,” Penelope breathed.
    That same thought occupied Claire’s mind.
    There were two massive wings on either side of the mansion’s front entrance. Several servants were there to help them from the coach and unload Claire’s trunk. The duke himself came to welcome her in the foyer, where two wide staircases swept toward each wing.
    After being shown to her room, Claire took a brief nap, then watched as several more coaches rolled in. She joined the duke and some of the other guests for afternoon tea in the garden. Oh, but Clive did indeed possess a roguish charm. His reputation was almost as bad as Gray’s.
    There was no sign of Gray.
    The opening festivity was a masquerade ball. Claire stood on the side of the dance floor, enjoying some of the costumes. Everyone wore masks, including her. She spied an ancient Roman soldier—judging from the rakish tilt of his head, it was Lord Davies. Another chose the costume of a medieval jester.
    There was still no sign of Gray.
    She had chosen to dress as a Gypsy. Her costume was bright and colorful. Her blouse had puffed sleeves and was off the shoulder, tucked into a long, flowing skirt of bright purple. Tied around her narrow waist was a sash of yellow. She’d left her hair long and loose, caught back by a ribbon, her head covered by a patterned scarf.
    Across the room, the musicians began to play, lively, vivacious tunes. Claire caught the mood, clapping and stomping in time to the music. Someone brought her a glass of champagne, then another. A pirate caught her around the waist and swung her around.
    She laughed and whirled along with him. Another man claimed her as partner. She pleaded aching feet. “I see you’ve a liking for champagne,” someone said. “Would you like another?”
    She gave a reckless laugh. “Please!”
    “I obey your every wish, Madame Gypsy.” The next moment she was holding a glass. “Drink it and come dance with me.”
    Feeling reckless, Claire drained it. Her new partner swept her onto the floor. She was still laughing as they spun away.
    His hand was warm around her waist. He held her close. Claire registered the plane of hard chest and long, muscled legs. The scent of him drifted to her nose. Caught up in carefree exhilaration, she flung back her head. She loved the way she felt small against his masculine strength.
    Her head was spinning. The champagne, she knew. She was used to country dances at neighborhood gatherings and not those of the ballroom. But now she felt as if she’d been caught in some strange Gypsy spell. Her feet left the ground as they whirled around. She tipped back her head, the arch of her throat long and white.
    She had yet to identify her partner. She didn’t care. Surrounded by the trill of laughter and voices, she liked being able to forget all else.
    “Every man here is jealous of me,” he whispered.
    The thought was exhilarating—and he was indeed the recipient of other envious glances. He spun her away from the dance floor and out onto the verandah. He didn’t stop until they stood beneath an arching trellis of fragrant, climbing vine.
    Perhaps there were other couples hiding away in the alcoves of the garden. But it seemed as if it was only the two of them in the world.
    Her partner stared down at her. A thousand tiny lights seemed to glitter in those ice-blue eyes. Her heart stood still—
    It was Gray.
    Her every sense had known it . . . and come alive. He held her around the waist. The span of his palm was almost possessive, fingers splayed wide around her back. It was as if she burned.
    “You fascinate me.”
    Her breath left her lungs in a rush.
    “You enchant me. I want to spirit you away.”
    His eyes were glittering. She glimpsed in them a need that was both thrilling and frightening.
    His voice seemed swathed in silk. Sensation swamped her. Her skin felt like it was burning. She realized then that opportunity was upon her. It would begin in earnest. Here. Now. She had wanted to