Free Lord Beast by Ashlyn Montgomery Page B

to coax into the garden.
    But Society had other ideas.
    As soon as he entered the
ballroom, he was accosted by people- particularly those of the female variety.
Rhys had forgotten just how persistent the opposite sex could be. Thankfully,
the silly chits didn’t recognise him, nor did some of the older matrons who
were around when he did the circuits five years prior.
    Most, if not all, of the ton were
present this evening, dressed in their finest costumes. The hall was heated
with hundreds of bodies and candles, dancing and conversing alternately. Rhys
eyed the large French doors that opened onto the terraces and out into the
large, candlelit gardens.
    “Good God, I would have thought
the devil himself wouldn’t have been able to drag you out of that castle,” a
familiar voice said from behind him.
    Rhys turned around and reluctantly
grinned. “Sinclair,” he returned. “Are you a pumpkin?”
    The man had grace enough to look
ashamed. His bright orange attire clashed glaringly with his overall arrogance
and his sudden sheepish smile caught Rhys off-guard. “Uh… I believe so,” he
explained gruffly. “The wife, you see…”
    “ Wife? ”
    Gabriel gave him a strange look.
“I’m sure you were sent an invite to the nuptials,” he said tautly. “If you
didn’t receive it-”
    Rhys shrugged quickly. He’d told
Grayson years ago to dispose of invitations the ton might send him. Honestly,
he didn’t need to see correspondence he had no particular interest in… anymore.
“I’m sure I received it,” he assured. “Your sister, was it?”
    Rhys chuckled at the dark look
Gabriel threw him. “Not by blood.”
    “You were saying why you’re here
as a vegetable?”
    “She’s… er… a bit on the
possessive side and doesn’t really approve of my sordid past, so she dresses me
up in horrendous outfits to stay some of the more amorous ladies.”
    “Clever girl.”
    Gabriel cocked his brow dryly.
“You haven’t mentioned what you’re doing here.”
    “Ah. I’m not here.”
    Sinclair narrowed his eyes. “Just
what does that mean?”
    “James Sutton is.”
    “Are you being deliberately
obtuse?”
    “No. I don’t want word to get out
that I’m here.”
    “Ah. I see.”
    “Good.” Pointedly, he scanned the
crowd for any glimpse of a curvy brunette with a soft, inner smile. “You
wouldn’t happen to know a Miss Danielle Carmichael, would you?”
    It’s a good thing Rhys had his
face turned towards the crowd as the expression of shocked amusement on his
friend’s face would have probably planted the seed to punch him. “Danielle?”
Gabriel repeated, rather dumbly Rhys thought. “She’s my wife’s best friend.
They’re by the punch bowl, I believe.”
    Rhys swivelled his gaze to the
general direction of the aforementioned table and his eyes riveted to the woman
he knew was Danielle. She was breath-taking in a gown of black and silver that
clung to her ripe figure in silken ribbons. Silver, gossamer wings were sown to
the back of the gown and her chocolate curls were left to trail between them to
her waist. The ensemble had a swooping neckline and left much of her shoulders
bare and Rhys wasn’t too shocked to note an unpleasant tang of jealousy invade
his body as he spotted several admirers about her.
    God, he hadn’t really expected
her to have none. She had just enough attributes to draw some attention to
herself although she certainly couldn’t be classified among the glamorous women
Rhys had previously associated with. Danielle had her own unique charm that set
her apart, that almost blinded him with wanting her.
    “You’ll excuse me, of course,”
Rhys told Gabriel, not even bothering to wait for his response as he waded into
the crowd.
    Gabriel, however, grinned wryly
and began to weave his way towards his wife.
     
    “Oh, there’s Gabriel!” Vicky
murmured into Dani’s ear and gestured towards the tall man heading towards
them.
    Dani turned towards him and
inwardly grimaced.