To Bed a Libertine Read Online Free Page B

coat. She slowly went up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss along his jaw. Her lips were soft and cool. “Don’t you agree?” she whispered.
    “Oh, yes,” he said, his voice rough. His body stirred with a fierce desire just from her lightest touch. “I certainly agree.”
    “Is your home near here, Tristan? I would so like to see your paintings.”
    He reached for her arm, caressing the curve of her body through her jacket. She wanted him, too, he could feel it. “Then let us go there at once, Contessa.”
     
    Erato slowly traced her fingertips over the carved fireplace mantel, studying the books and objets clustered there as she listened to the sounds of furniture shifting behind the closed door. Even though she had laughed and protested that she did not mind a messy room, Tristan insisted on tidying up before she saw his studio.
    A most unusual man.
    Most unusual indeed.
    She frowned unseeingly at an ormolu clock. Tristan had surprised her, or perhaps she was surprised at herself. He was not what she expected when she came to England. Her job was to befriend artists, inspire them to reach higher in their work, not to lust for them. That was Aphrodite’s province. Erato was definitely not supposed to have feelings for them.
    But she was very much afraid Tristan Carlyle was coming perilously close to her heart. When she looked into his dark eyes, she felt she was falling. That she had dived off a cliff into the fathomless unknown.
    She should go back to Olympus now, leave Tristan and find some other artist who didn’t pose such a danger to her emotions. Yet the thought of going away from him was wrenching. She had to stay, to see what was really happening—just for a little while longer.
    She idly sifted through a stack of invitations, searching for distraction. A duke’s son was obviously much sought-after. There were card parties, Venetian breakfasts, waltzing parties, ridottos, all the usual things English people seemed to enjoy. If they had ever attended an Olympian banquet, which went on for days with fountains of wine and flocks of dancers and musicians, they might change their minds about the nature of entertainment!
    But Erato was actually quite glad of the change, and for these days away from her usual life. And one invitation at the bottom of the stack looked very interesting. A classical-themed masked ball given by the Duke of Averton, a famous—and reclusive—scholar and collector. That was surely where Calliope Chase meant to catch the Lily Thief.
    The door behind her opened, and she turned to smile at Tristan. She waved the invitation at him. “Are you going to this masked ball? I have heard this duke never gives parties.”
    He laughed and plucked the card from her hand. “He doesn’t. He just hides away in his colossal house with all his treasures. There are all sorts of wild tales about him.”
    “Sounds most intriguing.”
    “But I was not planning on attending.”
    “Why not?” she said. “I think you would look very handsome in a tunic and sandals.”
    “Do you indeed?” He tossed aside the card and caught her around the waist, pulling her against him. She laughed in delight and wound her arms about his neck. “Then maybe I will go, if you will let me escort you.”
    “I would enjoy it very much. But I fear I brought no costumes with me.”
    “Perhaps I could help you with that. I’m an artist, after all. We have to be prepared to set any scene.”
    “Ah, yes, your paintings!” Erato cried. “You must let me see them now.”
    “Hmm—must it be right now?” He lowered his head and kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear. She gasped at the jolt of pleasure, and he caught her earlobe lightly between his teeth.
    Erato wove her fingers through his long hair to hold him against her. His breath was soft on her ear, arousing. It would be so easy to…
    No! She was forgetting her purpose as a Muse. “Yes, it must be now,” she said. She summoned up all her willpower and slid from