Danger’s First Kiss Page 5

  “What can I get you?” he asked, still standing.

  I pushed the dress’s skirt aside, making room on the bench. “Maybe we could just sit a moment.”

  A sigh came from his lips as his knees bent slowly to sit beside me. “I’d like that. This” —he gestured behind us— “isn’t my scene.”

  “Mine either,” I admitted. “Why are you here?”

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I didn’t have much of a choice. You could say I’m here because of work, but mostly, I’m helping a friend. You?”

  “No work for me.” I looked down at my hands upon my lap as I notice the sparkles in the dress. “More make-believe.” I grinned. “I can’t believe I’m here...and I’m also helping a friend.”

  “Whoever your friend is, they should be ashamed for leaving you alone.”

  “He warned me.”

  As the man grinned, flakes of gold and yellow danced in his dark orbs, like the twinkling lights around the glassy dark lake.

  “So you are accompanied?” he asked.

  “Yes and no.”

  His brow furrowed in question.

  “My date isn’t really a date. Like you said, helping a friend.”

  He reached out and took one of my hands in his. Even more so than when he touched my back, the contact was electric—a kinetic link, exhilarating my senses.

  I stared at the sheer beauty in our contrast. His hand was dark and large enough to swallow mine. Mine pale yet strong.

  Have fun with it—Alex Demetri’s advice returned.

  Taking a deep breath, I reached out with my other hand, surrounding his one. Our fingers instinctively curled around each other’s. When I looked up, his stare was on me, seeing me, studying me. With nothing more than his gaze, my breathing shallowed, my nipples hardened, and my flesh warmed.

  “You’re beautiful.” His voice was deep and breathy.

  Letting go of his hand with one of mine, I lifted my palm to his cheek—smooth and warm. My stare went to his full lips, imagining what they would feel like upon my own. “So are you.”

  “Tell me your name.”

  I loved the way his mouth moved as he spoke and the way he demanded while also asking.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to kiss you, and this isn’t like me. But” —he leaned closer, the fullness of his body dwarfing mine— “I don’t want you to stop me.”

  My cheeks rose as I again stared into his eyes. “How will my name stop that?”

  “Because with your name, I’ll be able to properly inquire, like the gentleman my granny tried to raise.” Before I could reply, he continued, each word bringing our lips closer. “You don’t want her to be disappointed in me, do you?”

  I shook my head, as the long earrings dangled against my neck. “Lorna.”

  “Lorna, may I kiss you?”

  Something within my stomach twisted, a rippling of anticipation such as I’d only read about. As heat flooded the area between my legs, I pressed my thighs closer. “Yes.”

  I fluttered my eyelids shut as his large hand snaked around my waist, pulling me toward him. In that awkward moment, we moved our faces from side to side. Taking one finger, he tilted my chin until finally our lips connected. Such as the striking of a match, a spark ignited, not into a flame but the promise of a blaze capable of incinerating this mansion and all of Bishop’s Landing.

  Sitting taller, I pressed myself against him. Within the confines of the corset, my breasts flattened against his hard chest. His touch roamed, claiming more than my lips. Upward he roved, to my neck, the sensitive skin behind my ear, and twining my long red ringlets around his fingers.

  When we pulled away, we were left gasping for air, staring at one another.

  Quickly, I stood, wobbling on my heels and filling my lungs.

  The mystery man reached out and steadied me, our fingers again intertwining. “I’m sorry, Lorna.”

  My head shook. “No, for what?”

  Slowly, he stood. Even in the tall heels, I felt tiny in his presence. Our contrast was like that of magnets, the undeniable attraction of two opposite poles.

  Who was he?

  Mason said there were fires on all levels of his metaphoric chessboard.

  Could this man be after something from Mason or Mr. Sparrow?

  Did he know the Constantines?

  In contrast, I was no one, simply a companion for a poor boy from the South Side of Chicago.

  “I didn’t mean...” he began.

  I reached for his hand and smiled. “Please don’t apologize. I liked...that was...” I sighed, embarrassed by my sudden inability to articulate. “It was a great kiss.”

  His sinfully sexy lips parted in a full smile. “Yes, it was. But you have a date.”

  “I do.”

  “Maybe our paths will cross again.”

  I took a step back, our connection lingering until our fingers pulled apart. “I think I’d like that.”

  A loud tone came from the direction of the party.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “It means dinner is served.”

  I nodded. “I should find him.”

  “He’s a lucky man.”

  At the moment, I was the one who felt lucky, lucky that I was here experiencing this make-believe event, even for a single evening.

  As I turned back to the gallery, I thought how funny it was that my skin still tingled, my stomach fluttered, and my core twisted. I couldn’t remember another time when a boy—a man—had this kind of lasting effect with only a kiss.

  It wouldn’t matter.

  I was in New York.

  Tomorrow, I’d be back in Chicago.

  This man was someone mysterious, probably wealthy and important. As my heels clipped across the floor of the gallery, new thoughts occurred.

  Could he be royalty? Had I just kissed a prince? Why hadn’t I asked him his name?

  “Lorna,” Marianne called, waving from the courtyard doorway. “Oh, there you are.” She came to me. “I hope you didn’t have your heart set on eating with your brother?”

  “You know?”

  Her grin grew knowingly. “I see many things. Your brother, he’s a good man. They all are.”

  “All the Sparrows?”

  “Yes. Apparently, there are fires.” She said the word the way I would, not knowing specifically what it meant.

  I sighed. “Mason warned me.”

  She reached for my hand. “Come eat with me and Renita. Tell us what you thought of the art.” She winked. “And what Mason was like as a kid.”

  I wasn’t sure he’d appreciate me telling such stories. As for the art, it was...nice. The sculptured Adonis of a man I kissed by the lake was better.

  Chapter Nine

  The food was out of this world. Silently, I cursed Patrice for the corset. What I’d at first thought was feminine was an enemy as I ate. Course after course, the waiters continued. Finally, at the mention of dessert, I admitted defeat.

  Renita and Marianne were lovely dinner companions. I learned that Renita was in her medical residency with plans to specialize in cardiology. Marianne flew airplanes in the army, where she met Mr. Sparrow. He contacted her a few years ago, and she said goodbye to commercial airlines.

  Standing, I made my way back out into the courtyard.

  “Lorna.”

  I turned to see my brother walking my way. “Is everything all right?”

  His jaw clenched as he nodded. “I’m fucking sorry. I hoped I’d be able to...give you that princess-for-an-evening thing for helping me out.”

  I lifted my hand to his chest. “Don’t worry, Mace. You have. This whole day has been incredible. You warned me that you would be busy. I just want to know that you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay. It just—” He shook his head. “Lorna, please consider moving in with me for a while.”

  “I have a job.”

  “It’s a shitty job.”

  “Fine. It’s shitty, but it’s mine.
”

  He closed his eyes beneath the mask and slowly opened them. “Chicago is about to get dangerous. I have one sister left. For fuck’s sake, let me take care of you.”

  “No.”

  When I took a step, Mason reached for my elbow and spun me back to him. “Why are you so fucking stubborn?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mom,” I said, my fingers balling to fists and landing at my waist.

  Mason shook his head. “Mom? This has nothing to do with her.”

  “She let men take care of her. I won’t do that.”

  “This isn’t that,” he said.

  “I will not be her.”

  He lowered his voice as more guests left the dining hall, congregating near us. “You are as far from that whore as you can get. You’re not neglecting your kids to get high and fuck. Think of it this way. I’m offering you some time to do whatever you want. Take online classes or” —he motioned toward the art gallery— “study art. Hell, I don’t care. But tonight confirmed that shit is getting real, and it’s getting real, real fast. If you won’t willingly move to the tower with me, I will fucking kidnap you.”

  I scoffed. “Kidnap? Tower?”

  “Lorna, things are moving fast. It’s already nearly ten o’clock. If I don’t see you before you have to leave, be sure to be out to Bruno at midnight for your flight. I’m contacting you tomorrow.”

  I took a deep breath. “Mace?”

  “What?”

  “Let me tell you again how great today was. Tomorrow, I might forget when I’m telling you to go screw yourself.”

  A smile overtook his grimace. “I’m glad you’ve had a good time. Thanks for helping a guy out.”

  I stood watching my brother as he walked away. When he left for the army, I was scared I’d never see him again. I wanted him to stay with me, to stay in Chicago, and to stay safe.

  Did I owe him the same?

  If he was aware of lurking danger, should I respect his wishes?

  A grin began to form as I imagined telling Anna I quit. Jane was right; I’d paid my debt to her. She didn’t deserve any more of my life. Taking another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, I stood watching the conductor as the orchestra began a new set.

  At a small table near a fountain, I noticed two women. One was Alexandra. The other I didn’t know. She was a bit older but beautiful with darker hair and a stunning green gown. Even knowing I didn’t belong with this crowd, I made my way over to them. I wanted to thank Alex for her reassurance and let her know that tonight had been magical.

  “Excuse me.”

  The ladies turned to me. Alex smiled as did the other lady. A flash of reflection caught my eye. The woman in the green gown had the biggest diamond on her finger that I’d ever seen. When I looked away, what caught my attention were her emerald eyes, greener than Pierce eyes.

  “Lorna,” Alex said, motioning to a chair. “Please join us.”

  “Thank you.” Arranging the skirt of my dress, I sat.

  The other lady lifted her right hand. “Hello, my name is Claire.”

  We shook. “Nice to meet you, Claire. I’m Lorna.”

  “Is your husband off in some secret meeting?” Claire asked with a grin.

  I reached for my own left hand. “No husband. No ring. But yes, my date has been preoccupied most of the night.”

  She leaned toward me. “I’d tell you to forget him. He’s no good.” Her cheeks rose and a sparkle shone in her eyes. “But when the right one comes around, it’s hard to walk away.”

  “So was Tony difficult to walk away from?” Alex asked.

  Claire’s eyes widened behind her beautiful, ornate mask. “Impossible would be a better word.”

  “And you were all right with that?” I asked.

  “Oh, Lorna, it’s a long story, but I would say that I’m undoubtedly the best thing that ever happened to Anthony Rawlings.”

  We all laughed.

  “I tell Nox that all the time,” Alex said.

  The three of us chatted until nearly eleven thirty. Once I realized the time, I stood and said, “I really must be going.” After goodbyes, I began to make my way toward the entrance to the house.

  With twinkling lights lining the sidewalk, I made my way around the winding path.

  “They crossed.”

  I sucked in a breath as my mystery man walked from the shadows. He was as handsome as I’d made him up to be in my mind. “Our paths?” I asked.

  He reached for my hand and tugged me toward the art gallery. The room was now empty of guests because the real excitement was in the dance hall. Circles of light lined the perimeter coming from the small bulbs over each work of art. By the time we came to a stop, the corset felt too tight, and I was out of breath.

  With my back against the wall, the man came to a stop in front of me. While I was caged by his girth and at his mercy, I didn’t feel in danger. Instead, with his proximity and masculine scent of his cologne, combined with the champagne I drank, I felt a sense of safety. As if he wasn’t caging me, but wrapping me in a cocoon.

  My gaze was on his tie and the way the starched white shirt fit over his chest. Tipping my chin upward, I took in his wide neck, bobbing Adam’s apple, square chin, sensual lips, and kaleidoscope orbs. My smile grew. “I’m glad.”

  “That they crossed?”

  I nodded.

  “I shouldn’t be here” —he looked from side to side— “but I hoped I’d find you. I wanted to...”

  “Say goodbye?”

  As he grasped my chin, his thumb caressed my cheek. “No, Lorna, to see you again.”

  I inclined my cheek toward his touch. “I’d love to see you too beneath that mask.” Warmth filled my cheeks.

  His breathing deepened. “I’d like to see beneath more than your mask.” His gaze slowly moved over my body. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His eyes met mine as he again twirled a strand of my curls in his fingers. “You’re dressed like a princess, but damn, your hair is beautiful. You belong in the sea.”

  “The sea?”

  “My cousins used to watch a cartoon with a mermaid. Your soft skin” —he again caressed my cheek— “your red hair. I want to see under that dress to be sure you have legs.”

  I shook my head, remembering telling Mason I was a fish out of water. “I do.”

  He took a small step back, releasing my face. “Fuck...sorry. It sounds stupid, like a line. I don’t do lines. I haven’t gotten you out of my head since we kissed. Can...may we...?”

  I stepped forward and reaching for his broad shoulders, I brought my lips to his. This time, there was no awkward movement as we connected. In an instant, I was backed against the wall. A moan escaped my throat as his tongue teased the seam of my lips.

  With haggard breaths, I allowed him entry. My lips bruised and our tongues danced as our bodies pressed against one another—the hardness of his against the softness of mine.

  Large and small.

  Hard and soft.

  Dark and light.

  Danger and mundane.

  Our differences might have appeared too overwhelming, yet as my body molded toward his, and as his hands roamed my waist and the roundness of my breasts, everything felt perfect.

  In a world of burning fires, a blaze ignited inside of me.

  Like the sounding of a great clock, my phone’s alarm began to beep.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “Oh, I need to leave.”

  He pulled me close for one more kiss. “I don’t know when, but I want to see you again.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t. I don’t live here or belong here. I’m not the kind of woman a man like you would want.”

  His grip tightened around my wrist. “Lorna, you’re exactly that woman.”

  Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. “I need to go.” I reached for his large hand. “But in that world of cartoons and princes, you should know, you’ll forever be my Prince Charming.”
>
  With that I took off toward the front of the house. I ran past guests and servers. Tears threatened my vision, yet I moved forward, afraid to look back. When I made it to the street out of breath, Bruno was there waiting with the door to the SUV open.

  “Ms. Pierce, are you all right?”

  I nodded as the tears won the battle and streamed down my cheeks.

  Looking up at the mansion, I swallowed, wondering if I was crying over the end of a fantasy or the loss of my mystery man.

  Once we were both inside the car and Bruno was seated in the driver’s seat, he turned. “Miss, should I call Mr. Sparrow or Mr. Pierce?”

  “No. I’m all right. It’s time for this car to turn back into a pumpkin.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You look like something the cat dragged in,” Anna said as she entered the open door of room 225 with a cigarette in her hand.

  My patience was lost sometime during the changing of my clothes in a back seat, long drive to the airport, red-eye flight, or maybe the two total hours of sleep I managed during all of that. “Why are you here? It’s Sunday.”

  “Left the brats at home with Howard. I needed a break.” She grinned. “I heard there was a party in 317.” She shook her head. “Real mess.”

  “Marcia has the third floor.”

  “Yeah, about that, she called in. You have the whole place.”

  I let out a sigh as I tilted my head back. “Anna, I can’t clean all the rooms. You need to help.”

  She flicked an ash onto the carpet. “Sorry, sis. Below my pay grade.”

  “Anna,” a deep voice I recognized called from the walkway outside the room.

  Quickly, she threw her cigarette down onto the concrete, stomped it out with the toe of her shoe, blew the smoke away, and smoothed her shirt. “Mason.” Her voice was uncharacteristically high. “Long time no see.” Her lips curled in an unearthly smile. “Looking good.”

  He came around the corner, looking more like himself than the man in the tuxedo. He was wearing blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and cowboy boots. “I came to get my sister.”