As masquerade parties went, this one was going to be ultrasophisticated, no costumes or elaborate ensembles allowed. The men had been instructed to wear traditional tuxes. With so many of them in the room, anonymity would be upheld. The women, on the other hand, had been asked to choose a color. The masks for the female guests would complement their gowns. Simone’s mask was scarlet trimmed with delicate black lace.
Her heart beat faster when Hutch put on his black mask. It made him look remote and dangerous. “Will you help me with mine?” she said. “So I won’t mess up my hair?”
Hutch took the mask from her trembling fingers and carefully fitted it over her head, smoothing any strands of hair that were pushed out of place. Then he bared the side of her neck and pressed a kiss just below her ear. “I could eat you alive,” he muttered.
His hot breath against her skin and the subtle rake of his teeth against her sensitive flesh flooded her body with heat and yearning. “I could say the same to you,” she whispered. “I used to think your white lab coat was the sexiest piece of clothing you owned. But tonight you’re seriously hot. I’ll have my hands full keeping other women from stealing you away.”
He cupped his hand around her breast, using his thumb to tease the nipple that beaded beneath the fabric. “Does that mean you want me all to yourself?”
Simone shuddered. Arousal stole through her veins and made her reckless. “I dare anyone to lay a hand on you, Troy Hutchinson. For tonight, you’re mine.”
He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “What are we doing, damn it? I can’t walk in there with an erection. Hell, Simone, you make me crazy.”
For once, he didn’t sound too happy about that. She sat back in her seat and tried to steady her breathing. “I’ll go in alone,” she said. “You can follow when you’re ready.”
Beneath the mask, his jaw was like iron. “I’m ready now,” he growled, deliberately misunderstanding her suggestion. The words were forced beneath clenched teeth.
Helpless to stem the tide of insanity that had overtaken them, she touched him lightly through his trousers. His erection was as hard as his jaw. “Oh, Hutch,” she said. “What I wouldn’t give to walk away from all of this. I don’t know if I can wait.”
“Maybe you don’t have to.” He leaned over her. The windows of his black SUV were tinted. No one was around to notice when he slid a hand beneath her skirt and ran his fingers from her ankle up her thigh to the edge of her satiny underpants.
“Um, Hutch...” She gripped the door handle with her right hand.
“Relax, Simone.”
That was easy for him to say. Her entire body clenched in anticipation of what he was about to do. When he pressed two fingers against the very heart of her yearning, she gasped. Carefully, he pleasured her.
She should have made him stop. Cecelia and Naomi were expecting her inside. But none of that mattered. Hutch took her somewhere dark and visceral and so compelling, she lost everything except the feel of his hands on her body.
When she came, her fingernails left marks in the leather seat. Chest heaving, she opened one eye. “You’re some kind of sorcerer,” she said.
His grin was a slash of white teeth beneath his mask. “All the better to seduce you, my dear.”
Heart pounding still, she hesitated. This was where her lack of experience failed her. “Do you want me to...”
“No.” He said the word forcefully, though his body spoke otherwise. “When I have you in bed tonight, and I’m deep inside you with you crying out my name, then I’ll get what I’m waiting for...but not before.”
Simone nodded, unable to find the words to tell him what she felt. With all her heart, she wanted to believe Hutch would forgive her when she told him the truth. Honestly, she wanted to tell him now and get it over with...end the suspense. That wasn’t an option, though. She had a party to execute.
They barely spoke after that. Hutch brooded, gaze trained out his window as Simone fussed with her hair and makeup. When she was reasonably certain she was back to normal, she picked up her small clutch purse. “I’m ready.”
* * *
The Bellamy was magnificent. From the vast, sophisticated lobby, down the wide hallways covered in luxurious Oriental rugs, to the entranceway into the ballroom, the place was awash in flowers and tiny white lights and golden gauze bows. Pale orchids in cream and lavender emitted a subtle fragrance. Cecelia’s touch was on every bit of design and decor in the building. This new hotel was destined to become a centerpiece of Royal’s social scene.
Hutch was deeply grateful he was wearing a mask. He felt raw and gutted. If he hadn’t known he was in love with Simone before, he knew it tonight. She was incandescent. Pregnancy gave her a glow of contentment. His physical need for her was only outweighed by a gut-deep certainty that she was the only woman who could make him whole.
After his stunt in the car, which slowed Simone and him down, a crowd of guests already gathered in the lobby and moved toward the ballroom.
The Bellamy had hired ample staff for the big evening. In addition to its own roster of chefs and waiters, tonight’s event demanded even more. Every guest would be expecting perfection.
Even with attendees wearing masks, it was easy to pick out a few here and there. He was almost certain he identified Harper Lake with one of the Tate brothers, though he couldn’t tell the twins apart. Clay Everett limped in with his gorgeous secretary. That might raise a few eyebrows.
Thirty minutes after the official starting time of the masquerade ball, the room was packed. Old friends and new. Octogenarians whose history went way back in Royal. Young, hip entrepreneurs who had made their mark in reshaping the town. Everything in between.
After twenty minutes of mingling and chatting, Simone was flushed and sparkling with excitement. “Let’s dance,” she said.
“I thought you’d never ask.”