Chapter Five #2
‘I’m sure there are a lot of people out there who will never forget you,’ Sylvie said. ‘Me included.’
He patted her hand and smiled. ‘That’s very kind. Now, let’s talk about more interesting things than my regrets.’
Their conversation veered into other less emotion-evoking areas, and Sylvie was glad of the old man’s company, happy to talk to him about her house and garden and the cat she was trying to tame.
And he chatted about his love of reading and the latest documentaries he had enjoyed.
He eventually excused himself to shuffle off with his walking stick to seek out a colleague she had identified for him at a nearby table.
Sylvie sat, sipping at her glass of champagne, deep in reflective thought.
But after a few minutes, some spidery sense told her Jack Wilde was in the room.
There was a feathery sensation in her stomach, a prickle along her bare arms, her increased heart rate and pounding pulse told her he was not only nearby but searching for her in the crowd.
Jack arrived late to the ball after having to take a phone call from his grandfather who was in one of his obstreperous moods, complaining about the lack of contact from Jonas, the weather, the state of the country and a host of other things Jack had no power or interest in changing, except finding out where his youngest brother was and when he was coming home.
He was even considering engaging a private investigator but knew Jonas would never forgive him if his cover was blown on a top-secret mission.
Jack had somehow placated his grandfather enough to end the call on reasonably good terms, but it had made him forty minutes late for the fundraiser.
Jack stood at the ballroom door and took in the stunning decorations and the vast array of masked guests.
It was like Carnevale in Venice, and he was pleased to see it was obviously such a success.
A full house meant a lot of money would be raised for women’s shelters and anger management programs for men who had a history of domestic violence.
Jack swept his gaze towards the back of the ballroom as if some sort of internal radar had programmed him to do so.
Even though Sylvie Rathbone was wearing a mask that covered her face, he knew it was her seated beside an elderly man who he recognised as a well-known retired judge, right at the back of the room.
The old man shuffled to another table to greet someone, and Jack watched as Sylvie sipped champagne before freezing, as if she’d sensed his arrival.
As she turned slowly towards Jack and met his gaze across the vast ballroom, something went zzzzt in his chest.
The band had assembled to play the first dance of the evening and Jack walked straight towards Sylvie, but, before he could get to her, another man from a nearby table rose and then after exchanging a few words with her, led her to the dance floor.
The spike of jealousy that assailed Jack was both unexpected and painful.
Him? Jealous? He had never had a moment of jealousy in his life.
He never invested in a relationship with anyone long enough to evoke such an emotion.
He frowned and turned to see his brother Jago approaching him with his fiancée, Mollie.
‘Knew it was you as soon as I saw you,’ Jago said, smiling behind his own mask. ‘That Big Bad Wolf get-up really suits you.’
Jack had to force himself to act as nonchalantly as usual, but it took an effort. ‘This old thing?’ He forced a grin. ‘I think I’ve worn it before. Hey, love the masks,’ he addressed both Jago and Mollie. Jago was wearing a vampire mask and Mollie had a white feathery Swan Lake vibe to hers.
‘Did you just get here?’ Mollie asked.
‘Yeah, Maxwell phoned and I had to listen to him get a few things off his chest before I could hang up. Have either of you heard from Jonas yet? That seems to be Maxwell’s biggest grief right now, mine too, to be honest.’
‘Ours too,’ Jago said, pulling Mollie close to his side. ‘We can’t make any arrangements for the wedding until we know when he’s coming home. If he doesn’t contact us soon, we’re going to go ahead and get married without him there.’
‘It would break Gran’s heart to not have the family together for such an important occasion,’ Jack said. ‘You know how sentimental she is.’
‘I know but this is the longest he’s ever been away. It’s hard not to worry something might be wrong,’ Jago said, with an undercurrent of concern in his tone.
‘I hear you,’ Jack said, sighing. ‘Let’s give it another couple of weeks and if we haven’t heard anything, we’ll have to take decisive action to track him down.’
‘A private investigator?’ Jago asked.
‘It’s one option.’ Jack’s tone was grim. ‘The other is to wait it out and hope his work is done and he comes home soon.’
‘It’s been eight months,’ Jago said. ‘The longest he’s been away before is six.’
‘I know,’ Jack said. ‘But some projects take longer than others and this must be an important one for him to block all of us from contacting him, including Tessa. I thought he was getting serious with her so I was surprised when he enlisted me to break things off on his behalf.’
‘So did I. Have you heard from her again?’ Jago asked. ‘We were hoping to get her to do our wedding cake again but her shop in Notting Hill closed down. She’s now working from home, but her website says she isn’t taking on any work for a month or two.’
‘I blocked her on my phone,’ Jack said with a tiny twinge of guilt. ‘I have enough on my plate without having to console Jonas’s ex.’ He cast his eyes towards the dance floor and saw an opportunity to join in the current dance. ‘Excuse me, I have something to do.’
Sylvie was about to move to the new partner in the line when Jack Wilde cut in with a confident, ‘May I?’ to the middle-aged man with whom she was about to dance.
‘Be my guest,’ the man said and disappeared into the ballroom crowd.
Sylvie knew it was Jack even before his arms came around her.
Her sensual radar had sensed his presence the moment he entered the ballroom.
He was wearing a wolf mask that gave him an even more dangerous air than he already possessed.
Her flesh shivered with awareness as soon as Jack’s arms went around her body in the waltz position.
Her hand was almost swallowed by the broadness of his and her heart thudded in excitement and her pulse raced with hectic speed.
The steel band of his arm around her waist seared her skin and the closeness of his hard male body sent her senses reeling.
Never had she been more aware of her body, the way it so neatly moulded against his in spite of their differences in height.
‘I’ve been wanting to do this all night,’ Jack said, smiling down at her.
‘What? Dance?’
‘Hold you in my arms.’
Sylvie’s eyebrows rose. ‘But you only arrived a few minutes ago.’
He grinned down at her, his blue eyes glittering through his mask. ‘You were waiting for me?’
She gave him a haughty stare, which was quite a feat with his body sending hers into a tailspin of delight as he whirled her out of the dance line and towards an exit. ‘Of course not. Hey, where are you taking me?’
‘Somewhere I can talk to you in private.’ He released her, took her by the hand and led her out of the ballroom to a balcony outside that overlooked the city.
It was an unusually warm evening for early summer and Sylvie wondered if it wasn’t the outside temperature heating her but Jack Wilde’s firm, gentle grip on her hand.
‘How did you recognise me so easily?’ His mask almost entirely covered his face but she could see his glinting smile, his white teeth starkly contrasted by his dark mask.
‘You have an aura of arrogance that no mask could ever disguise,’ Sylvie said. ‘What if I wanted to dance with that man?’
‘Did you?’ His eyes burned into hers and a tiny shiver tingled down her spine.
‘No. He had sweaty hands and bad breath.’
Jack laughed and pulled her back into a waltz, dancing with her on the balcony with the glittering lights of the city shimmering like fairy lights.
‘Do you think this is wise?’ Sylvie asked.
‘What? Us dancing?’
‘Us doing anything together.’ She could feel her cheeks heating and kept her head down. The loaded meaning to her words seemed to echo in the silence.
Jack stopped dancing but still maintained his hold of her. And Sylvie stayed there, relishing in the warm band of his arm at her back, and his hand holding hers. ‘We’re colleagues dancing at a fundraising ball. I don’t see a problem with that,’ he said.
Sylvie sensed him looking down at her and slowly raised her gaze back to his. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘What am I doing?’
She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, aware of the dark gleam of his eyes following the movement.
The air tightened, crackling with tension like a current of electricity passing between their bodies.
Her gaze went to his mouth and her body moved closer to him, drawn by a magnetic force field she had no power to resist. Jack moved at the same time, his head bent, his eyes hooded, his warm mint-scented breath caressing her upturned mouth.
‘You’re not going to kiss me, are you?’ Her voice was supposed to come out tart and reproving but it was barely more than a breathless whisper.
‘That would depend.’
‘On what?’
His mouth moved infinitesimally closer. ‘On whether you want me to.’
Sylvie inched closer, drawn to him as if she had no say in the matter. ‘Do you want to kiss me?’ The words were out and in a breathless, almost hopeful tone that she knew was reflected in her gaze.
He tipped up her chin with his index finger, locking his eyes on hers. ‘I admit I want to kiss you, but I wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t agree to.’