Chapter Two #2
“What?” She laughs. “That’s crazy. You’re tall, dark, and handsome, and you’re wearing a bespoke suit and a Richard Mille watch, so you obviously have money. What more do you need to get laid?”
“Anonymity.” I mean it as a joke, but when her eyes widen I realize how she might have construed that. “Oh, shit, that’s not… I mean, I’m not implying that’s what I expect…” I trail off as she starts to laugh. “Jeez, don’t mock me. I thought I’d offended you.”
“I’m not easily offended.” She leans an elbow on the bar and rests her chin on her hand as she studies me. “I understand wanting to be anonymous. It’s…” She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Kind of exciting, don’t you think?”
My pulse picks up again. “Yeah. It is. Two complete strangers.” It’s refreshing that she doesn’t know who I am. She’s not talking to me because she wants my money, or connections. She seems genuinely into me. And I honestly can’t remember the last time that happened.
It’s too loud and busy in here. Someone bumps into my back, and I move closer to Cupcake, ostensibly to give them more room, but mainly because I like the smell of her perfume and the way she blushes when she looks up at me.
I love how she’s shy, and yet I can see that her disguise has emboldened her and made her feel like a different person.
I can understand that. What would I be like if I didn’t have the weight of my inheritance and fortune on my shoulders?
“So the reason your ex called you vanilla was just because of your clothing?” I’m still puzzled. This girl is clearly intelligent, funny, and beautiful. What the hell was wrong with the guy?
“You mean, am I a pillow princess?”
“Nothing wrong with a woman asking her man to pleasure her.”
She holds my gaze, her lips curving up. Something shifts between us.
I feel like a kid waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve.
My heart is racing, and my stomach flips as she trails her gaze lazily down me, taking in every part of me, before returning it to mine.
Anticipation sparkles in the air like glitter.
I haven’t felt like this for years. I thought only young people got carried away with lust.
God, I’m getting old.
“I’m not a pillow princess,” she says. “And I’m not a starfish. I’m just… easily intimidated. And my ex wasn’t keen on the girl taking charge.”
“So what did he want?”
“Unfortunately, I have no idea.”
“How terrible,” I murmur, studying her mouth. She has an attractive Cupid’s bow, and her lips naturally curve up, as if she’s permanently thinking about something naughty.
“You sound devastated,” she says.
“I’m gutted you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“But that means I’m lonely.” She bats her eyelashes.
“Well, we can’t have that.” I smile.
She gives a short laugh, then tips her head to the side. “Do you… really find me attractive?”
I let my gaze brush down her. A slender neck, her bare throat unadorned by jewelry.
Pale shoulders, and the beautiful swell of her breasts above the pink bodice.
The dip of her waist, and the curve of her hips.
The split in the skirt revealing pale thighs and shapely calves.
Slender feet in her high-heeled sandals, and oh my, sexy pink toenails to match her outfit.
I bring my gaze back up to hers. “I can safely say you’re the most gorgeous woman at the ball tonight.”
“Cinderella,” she says, and laughs.
“I’m happy to be your prince, if the shoe fits.”
“It does,” she says, a little breathlessly. “Very much.”
Her violet eyes are entrancing, casting a spell over me.
Desire rises inside me, its furious roar drowning out everything else around me.
A casual observer might comment that my lust could be connected to not having had sex for seven months, and no doubt the whisky has something to do with it, too.
But I wouldn’t be feeling this way if just any girl were sitting in front of me. Cupcake is… exceptional.
I have to make sure that, like Cinderella, she doesn’t escape the ball without me finding out her identity. I need to see this girl again.
“Come on,” I urge. “Tell me your name.”
She laughs and pushes my arm. “No. We agreed, no names.”
“You agreed. I just went along with it.”
“This wouldn’t be the same if we knew who each other was,” she insists. “It’s the anonymity that’s so exciting. I can be somebody else for once.”
“I bet I’d like the real you more.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
Disappointment makes me frown. “Aw, come on. It’s not often you get a connection like this. I like you. And I’ll probably have to go soon, and I don’t want to come looking for you and find you’ve—”
“—turned into a pumpkin?”
“I think it was the carriage that turned into a pumpkin, but yeah, disappeared, before I’ve had a chance to kiss you.”
“Kiss me?” She looks amused. “Is that all you want to do to me?” Her eyes dare me to say more.
I love that she’s so flirty, and I lower my head so my lips are just millimeters from her ear. I want to move her hair back and kiss the sensitive skin there. But I remind myself I’m in public, and at any moment Aurelia could appear with the mayor and a gaggle of press photographers in tow.
Instead, I just murmur, “No. I was wondering whether you taste as sweet as your nickname.”
Her breasts rise as she inhales sharply.
“You like that idea?” I whisper.
She turns her head so her lips are almost touching mine and moistens hers with the tip of her tongue again. “I think so,” she says. “My memory’s not great.”
My eyebrows rise. “Don’t tell me the opinionated wanker didn’t go down on you?”
“Once. Maybe twice. He possessed more of a ‘stuff-the-chicken’ approach before he went at it for thirty seconds.”
“Fuuuuck.” I know she’s trying to be funny, but I hate it when I hear women say things like that. “I’m so sorry.”
She laughs. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s truly tragic.”
She smiles and finishes off her Cosmo. “You’ve been a lot of fun.”
“Another?”
“No, thank you. You should get back to whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing.”
“No. Not before you tell me who you are.”
“Seriously,” she says, “no names. I’ve enjoyed coming out this evening, for once. Don’t spoil it.”
“I can’t lose you now I’ve found you.”
“Just think of me like a kingfish you’ve been wrestling. The one who slipped away.”
“Cupcake…” Genuinely devastated, I lift a hand and brush the back of my fingers against her cheek.
At the same time, there’s a roar of laughter from the crowd behind me, and I cast a glare over my shoulder before looking back at her.
“How about we go somewhere quieter to talk?” I’d prefer it if I wasn’t worried that Aurelia would appear and interrupt us.
Her lashes lower for a moment as she thinks. Then she looks up at me with those gorgeous violet eyes. “To a room, do you mean?”
“Oh… no… I meant see if we can find a quiet corner somewhere, maybe in one of the other bars…” It’s a big hotel, and this bar is part of the ballroom, but there are others on the far side of the hotel.
She blinks slowly. “Do you think there are rooms available?” Her eyes glimmer with a reckless light that wasn’t there before.
My mouth opens, but no words come out. I’m genuinely surprised.
I had a couple of one-night stands when I was at university, but not in the last ten years or so.
It’s just not my thing normally. I can’t go on dating apps because I’m well known in the city, and so any women I meet are usually business acquaintances.
And we all know the perils of sleeping with someone with whom you do business.
But my blood is up, and I like this girl, and it’s so rare that I have the opportunity for anonymity. So I say, “I’m sure there are.”
“Why don’t we go and see?” she asks.
Stunned, I hold out a hand as she gets down from the stool, and she slips hers into it. Her hand is slender and finely boned, her skin pale against mine.
I glance over at the ballroom and finally see Aurelia making her way toward the bar. “Quick, this way,” I say to Cupcake, and I lead her around the bar and through a door marked Staff Only.
She laughs, and I grin as we walk quickly along the corridor, past the kitchens, and out through a door at the other end, finding ourselves in the central foyer.
I turn to face her. The heels she’s wearing are very high, but she’s a lot shorter than me. “Are you sure about this?” I ask, barely able to breathe because my heart’s racing so much.
In answer, she lifts onto her tiptoes, leans both hands on my chest for balance, and reaches up to press her lips to mine. It’s a quick kiss, no tongues, but firecrackers go off all the way down my spine. When she pulls back, I say, “Okay, wait here,” and I march over to reception.
I’ll take her up to a room and see what happens. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to convince her to tell me who she really is before the clock strikes midnight.