5. Elijah
The pulsing beat of the music thrums beneath my Italian leather shoes as I sit in the VIP area of the Crimson Masquerade Club. My gaze scans the crowd below. I joined Connor on his little mission, hoping to find a woman I could use for my fake engagement.
But I doubt I’ll find someone suitable here.
Connor sits beside me. Here for a sole purpose. The promise of catching a glimpse of that girl.
What’s her name? Mary?
I adjust the black silk mask. “What’s the plan?”
“Waiting until she arrives.”
This little excursion is a goddamn waste of time.
Connor’s eyes remain fixed on the entrance. “She’ll be here.”
“Your obsession with this Mary chick is borderline creepy, cuz.”
He shoots me a glare but doesn’t shoot back. Smart move because I’m right, and he knows it. But I’m not one to judge. We all have our vices.
Loosening my tie, I lean back. The rhythmic thump of the bass grates on my nerves. “Why the fuck are we even at this ridiculous party?”
“They decided to meet here.”
“Who’s they?”
“Long story.”
“Of course.”
Connor’s lips tighten into a thin line, the muscle in his cheek twitching.
“She might even be open to you buying her a drink if you can work up the nerve to approach her in person.”
“Fuck you.” Connor’s jaw ticks in that subtle way it does when he’s annoyed but holding it in.
“Uh, huh.”
“I could say the same for you. Speaking of which, any prospects for your upcoming wedding?” Ever the sarcastic, Connor does air quotes at the word ‘wedding’.
“Unlikely.”
I scan the crowd again. These events tend to attract a certain type—the young and reckless, more interested in the thrill and grabbing attention.
A server comes by, and I wave him off.
I check my watch. By now, I would have been done with the finance reports. I’ll leave as soon as she arrives. It should be soon if Connor’s intel is correct. Though, I question how wise it is to pursue a woman he never actually talked to.
“You’re sure she’ll show up?” I ask.
Connor’s eyes don’t stray, his focus trained on the entrance. “She’ll be here.”
He’s like a bloodhound locked on a scent when he gets focused on something. I suppose we all have our talents.
The steady beat of the music pulses through the club. Strobe lights flash hypnotically over the sea of glittering masks, drinking and dancing below. It’s disorienting if you stare too long.
I never partied much. I like my evenings with whiskey and poker with the boys. And working is my happy place.
Thinking of work. Sullivan has got to step the fuck up. The merger he secured today was not my preferred outcome. If you want it right, you better do it yourself.
Connor shifts in his seat. I follow his gaze to the entrance.
Now, there’s a woman worth a second glance with curves that could tempt a saint. Blonde hair, petite, and her lithe frame hugged by a short black dress. Her posture is rigid, her eyes beneath the black masquerade mask darting around like a trapped animal seeking an escape as she shifts on her heels.
Beside her is a brunette. She wears a feathered blue masquerade mask, obscuring her face. But I don’t need to see under it to know she’s the one Connor’s been waiting for.
My gaze wanders back to the blonde. She wants to disappear into the shadows and slip away unnoticed. A refreshing contradiction to the usual attention-seekers who prowl these events, hungry for attention. This one’s different. This one wants to be invisible.
Too bad, sweetheart. You’ve caught my interest now.
As her gaze drifts up towards the VIP section, our eyes meet.
I lean forward in my seat.
Too soon, her eyes dart away, and she ducks her head as Mary leads her towards the bar.
I sit back, swirling the whiskey in my glass. There’s something… about her.
Perhaps the night won’t be a waste after all.
The whiskey burns as I take another sip, my gaze lingering on the mysterious blonde.
I don’t recognize her, which is unusual in itself. Who is she, and why does she seem familiar?
After my father’s request, I asked Sullivan to make me a list of suitable women to marry. I’m sure she wasn’t on there.
Could she be married? That would be a hassle. But potentially, worth it.
I watch the blonde approach the bar, leaning against it with hunched shoulders as she waits to order, avoiding eye contact with those around her. Why is she so self-conscious?
The bartender sidles up to her, flashing a grin as he, without a doubt, tries out some pathetic line. His slimy gaze raking over her makes me want to stake my claim on her. Her posture remains closed off, angled away from him.
Good. Still, his obvious flirtation irks me. We’re in a club filled with inebriated people looking for one thing. I should hardly be surprised.
Yet, as he leans in closer, saying something to make her laugh, an unexpected spike of irritation lances through me. She tosses her hair, lips curved in an easy smile.
Is she enjoying his attention? No, her body language still screams discomfort. But why indulge him at all?
Too polite. She’s a person who would invite a bloody assassin if she thought it’d make them feel included.
My fingers tighten around the glass as the bartender prepares her drink with an unnecessary flourish, sliding it toward her with a wink. Find someone else. This one is mine.
I have no idea what her name is. However, I can’t stop watching as she grabs her drink, leaves the bar with her friend Mary, and walks towards a small table while chatting.
After they finish their drink, they walk onto the dance floor, melting into the crowd. Mary throws her head back, laughing as she moves to the pulsing beat. But the blonde seems more reserved, swaying hesitantly at first.
As another song comes on, she closes her eyes, losing herself in the rhythm and completely unaware of the effect she’s having on me.
The bass throbs through my veins as I can’t take my eyes off her curves. I would love to sink my fingers into the side of her hips while taking her from behind. Those luscious lips parted in breathless gasps as I trail kisses down her back...
I down the rest of my whiskey in one burning gulp.
Her hips rocking against me, her legs shaking… I’d make that perfect little ass sting with my handprint as I pound into her tight—
Fuck.
I need to get a grip before I embarrass myself like some hormone-addled teenager.
I can’t wait anymore. Connor needs to go down there. “Going to make a move or eye-fuck her all night?”
Connor rises beside me, eyes locked on Mary. “Watch how it’s done, cuz.”
“Better not screw up with your little obsession.”
“Never.”
Good.
Because I need her friend alone.
Connor gives me a mock salute before descending the steps onto the dance floor.
I slouch back, keeping him in my peripheral vision as he shows up behind Mary. They sway together to the music as Connor murmurs something in her ear.
Her blonde friend glances over, assessing the intrusion with a coy brief look. Mary throws her arms around her, giggling as they sway together. Then the blonde extracts herself, beelining for the bar.
I lean against the railing, tracking her movement through the crowd with hungry eyes. The sway of her hips as she moves is hypnotic, that little black dress leaving little to the imagination.
After exchanging words with the barkeeper, she turns slightly, peering over her shoulder to watch the people on the dancefloor.
My mouth goes dry looking at her. I ache to run my hands over the exposed skin, mapping every dip and hollow with my fingertips. I want to taste the whiskey on her tongue, to feel her lips against mine...
Enough waiting.
Connor and Mary are gone.
The blonde lingers at the edge of the crowd, one slim hand wrapped around her drink. Alone and unnoticed by anyone but me.
It’s time to introduce myself.
I finish the remainder of my whiskey and set the glass down with a sharp clink, pushing off the railing and making my way through the crowd, never taking my eyes off her. It’s ridiculous to feel any kind of possession over a woman I’ve just seen. Perhaps the whiskey has muddled my thinking more than I realized.
No matter. I’m intrigued now, and I have a hunch she’s exactly what I’ve been searching for. And I currently have no prospects for my fake engagement. She’s likely the best option.
My eyes narrow as a man approaches her from behind, his hands gliding over her hips as he presses himself against her back.
I tense, raking my neck to get a better view while fighting through the crowd. Her lips move, likely telling him to back off, but he leans in closer, ignoring her protests.
Anger simmers beneath my skin as I walk faster. The man’s grip tightens, and she struggles against him, her cries lost in the deafening music. His hands grope her breast, and I roll up my sleeves.
This fucker.
I’m a few strides away as she stomps on his foot, breaking free of his grasp and stumbling forward. Without thinking, I reach out, catching her against my chest with one arm wrapped around her waist.
Up close, I witness the wild panic in her eyes, her chest heaving, and her body trembling. She doesn’t protest as I pull her against me, glaring at the scumbag over her head.
“There you are, love.” My voice is hushed as I brush my lips against the delicate shell of her ear. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The man’s expression sours. With a muttered apology, he melts back into the crowd. Smart man, he doesn’t press his luck.
“Are you alright?” I turn to face the blonde fully, expecting her to pull away now that the threat has passed. But she doesn’t move, holding my gaze with those mesmerizing green eyes. There’s a challenge there, an unspoken question on her lips.
Oh, this one is going to be fun to play with.