A hot, clinging breath, like a feather, brushed against Silas Norwood's sensitive Adam's apple.
A soft head buried itself in the crook of his neck, and wine-stained red lips haphazardly tugged at the black jade button on his collar.
Even for a man like Silas Norwood, who was accustomed to grand occasions, his mind went blank for several seconds.
As for the other five young ladies from prominent families, they froze on the spot as if struck by lightning, their drunkenness vanishing in an instant.
A faint snap echoed.
The sound of a thread giving way.
The collar of the aloof, ascetic man's shirt gaped open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his collarbone. The girl's waterfall of hair obscured most of the view, but a few strands slipped inside his shirt...
Celia Sterling, dazed, tried hard to remember. "They just said... to un-unbutton..."
