Stolen Petals by Katherine McIntyre Read Free Book Online

her heels hit tile, but she expected the attention. This wasn't her first turn around the dance floor. Edward's hand made its way to her waist, same as the other partners in this waltz. The rest of them looked proper when they did it, but somehow Edward made even this gesture appear like in seconds he'd rip off her corset and do away with her skirt. Maybe it was the way his eyes followed her, or the way his fingers moved an inch past propriety, regardless, the Fox knew how to distract her.
    Now was not the time to notice how his eyes looked amber in this light or feel the heat of his breath on her neck. Focus.
    Women and men paired off all across the dance floor, most of them married and rich with a couple debutantes scattered in the mix. Everywhere flared skirts dominated the floor, like a field of unfurled tulips. Claude was not among the people dancing. Despite her focus elsewhere, she didn't trip, nor did Edward. Martial artists and masters with blades learned their own sort of dance, a poise that translated over.
    Following the cue of the other dancers, Edward dipped her and his hand pressed against her back. As he pulled her back up, his lips brushed her ear. "To the far right. What's the plan?"
    She passed him a polite grin. "Let me get him alone."
    Edward frowned, but his expression cleared in a moment. "What will I do?"
    She pressed herself to him, using the dance as an excuse for privacy. "I'll alert you when I've got him and need the assist." She withheld her grin when he shot her a quick glare. He'd said he would follow her lead, but apparently he had problems keeping his ego in check.
    "I'll be plucking daisies while you're gone, darling," he murmured.
    "Please tell me that doesn't mean deflowering every female here." Viola's tone was dry.
    He laughed and spun her, pulling her in close right after. She thanked the heavens for her bustle, her skirts, and in fact all the layers separating them—barriers to help her keep control.
    The dance ended with a flourish, all loud trumpeting and brass when Viola stepped away. "Wish me luck."
    She stalked toward Claude's corner of the room with all the predatory grace of a panther after prey. Claude himself lacked muscle, and in fact, his skin was puckered and deflated along a long, lanky frame. His cheekbones protruded and his sunken eyes made him look positively skeletal. The four men surrounding him overcompensated, like they'd been snatched from a bodybuilding competition. As luck would have it, they'd stationed themselves by a buffet table, making her entrance easier.
    Viola plucked a chocolate covered strawberry from one of the trays and then stepped away from the table, keeping her eyes on the crowd to make it seem like she aimed for polite distance. She sunk her teeth into the strawberry, savoring it and making sure Claude and crew could see her enjoyment. After she swallowed, she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. Clasping her hands, she arched her back, putting her chest on full display. And waited.
    "Are you here by yourself?" the thick voice of one Claude Brownetree inquired.
    Viola tilted her head. "Me? I'm afraid I barely know anyone here." She cast a longing glance to the dance floor, knowing the shut-in would never partake. "What about yourself?"
    "This is my aunt's manor." He puffed with pride.
    "Oh really? I've heard she has a legendary study," she gushed, "That it has pieces of art unseen for centuries." She'd have to be careful not to push too hard.
    "Would you care to see it?" he asked. "I'm not one to engage in dancing."
    "That would be lovely." She clasped her hands together in the foolish way men liked. Leaning in, she continued her head full of bees routine. "Are these your bodyguards?" she asked in an exaggerated whisper. One of them shot a glare her way, but the others remained focused, eyes on the crowd.
    "They are, dear lady," he lowered his voice, placing a hand over his chest. "I'm a marked man."
    It took every ounce of her resolve to