“For how many nights?” A teasing smile played at the corner of her mouth.
“For as many nights as I say,” he managed. And he searched her eyes, waiting for her answer.
“All right,” she said at last, after she’d made him wait a ridiculously long few seconds. “But only if you promise...to punish me anyway.”
“Of course, ma chère,” he said, and then he entered her, hard, and she gasped, wrapping her legs around his lower back. He plunged into her depths, again and again, suddenly sure in the feeling that he’d at last found home.
* * *
Durand stood on the interior white balcony overlooking the massive ballroom in the Adlon Hotel, the crystal chandeliers hanging from the thirty-foot ceilings, as his Sphinx Society guests began to arrive and accept glasses of champagne from the elegantly dressed wait staff. This ball bore no dress code, so attendees wore all manner of colors, and the growing crowd below was ablaze in greens, reds and blues. Even some of the men traded in black tuxedo jackets for colored ones. Durand, however, wore his favorite black tuxedo jacket and white tie. He should be watching the flow of guests, making sure the gourmet hors d’oeuvres were ready to serve, but instead, he was searching the crowd for Asha. She’d left him that morning, insisting she needed salon time to ready herself for the ball. He’d hadn’t seen her since early that morning, and he didn’t like to be parted from her.
He wanted her by his side.
Durand played over the conversation he’d had in bed with Asha days before, worried he’d gone too far. It was damn near the closest he’d come to truly committing to one woman. He didn’t believe in monogamy, and yet, he’d gone against that very core belief by asking Asha to be his. Only his. The most infuriating thing was: she hadn’t given him a straight answer. Keep an eye on her? He wanted to scoff. She was known for discarding boyfriends and suitors faster than she could collect them. Plus, Durand wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t just playing to win, that she’d walk away from him the second she got what she wanted: this damn membership.
“Monsieur Durand?” a familiar voice behind him made him turn. He saw Madelyn, wearing a very low-cut, very form-fitting stark red dress that matched her lipstick. She had her platinum blond hair up in a French twist, and wore long, dangling diamond earrings. For most men, she’d be an absolute knockout, but he barely noticed her model-thin frame.
“Yes, Madelyn?” he asked, somewhat annoyed. He didn’t want problems at the moment, didn’t want to think he had a job to do. Instead, he wanted to see Asha. He wanted a real answer about whether or not she’d be faithful to him. Whether or not she’d take his ask seriously. She’d been glib about it, or diverted his attention, but he realized, tonight he needed to know.
“It looks as if we have a few members who failed to RSVP, but they are at the doors, and...”
Durand waved his hand, annoyed. “Let them in.” He didn’t have time for small problems like this. He needed to focus.
“Some of them have guests, and...they are former members, but not current...”
He sighed, annoyance rippling through him. “I do not care about these petty issues now.” He turned and saw the stricken look on her face. He instantly felt guilty. Madelyn was a good assistant and did not deserve his bad mood.
“I am sorry, Madelyn.” He reached out and took her hand. She glanced up at him, unsure. “I did not mean to snap at you.”
“Are you feeling all right, sir?” she asked him, the uncertainty still in her eyes. “We usually have work meetings the week leading up to a ball, and you’ve been...”
“I’ve been engaged elsewhere,” he finished. This was none of Madelyn’s business, and yet, the look on her face told him she intended to make it her business. She blinked fast. He could see her struggling with the truth, with the jealousy. He’d let this crush of hers go on too long. He’d let it grow right under his nose. Maybe it had been flattering once, but now he realized that it wasn’t fair to her or him to let it continue.
“I worry, monsieur, that you are becoming distracted from your work.” And from her, the meaning was clear. Not that they ever had a real connection. It had all been in her head, and he was fine with letting her imagine what she would, as long as she worked hard for him. Durand realized how unfair he’d been. And now her feelings were interfering with her job, just as he feared they would.
“That is not your concern,” he said.
“Isn’t it?” She frowned. “I know you. I know what you’re passionate about. You’ve spent your entire life building this society and you’re going to let one woman distract you from it? Take away your focus?”
“My focus is where it needs to be.”
“Is that why you invited her to the Berlin Ball? Is that why you look for that woman even now? When your focus should be on the other guests?”
Durand glared at Madelyn, feeling his face grow hot. “You forget yourself.”
Madelyn lowered her lashes, not meeting his gaze. “My apologies for speaking out of turn, sir.”
Durand wondered if the apology was sincere, and then decided he didn’t care. Madelyn was a good assistant when she wasn’t blinded by her feelings.
“Please don’t let it happen again. You and I have a professional relationship—nothing more.”
Madelyn nodded once, but still wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“Do you understand that?” He took a step to her and lifted her chin with one finger. Her hurt blue eyes met his.
“Yes, I understand, sir.”
“Bien. Then get back to work.”
“Yes, sir. And there is a matter that needs your attention immediately. The Princess of Sweden wants an audience.”
“Her suspension is still in effect,” Durand said, sighing and regretting that one night in Prague two years ago. He might have gotten carried away that evening after one too many glasses of champagne. Of course, that was long before Asha.
“Yes, but she’s waiting in a sitting room nearby. She says she won’t leave until she speaks directly with you. And she’s threatening to call her father.”
“Of course she is.”
Durand let out a woeful sigh. Work, apparently, did call. He would have to find Asha later. “Fine,” he said as he followed Madelyn away from the balcony and towards the sitting room.
* * *
Asha arrived in the ballroom wearing a snug, form-fitting golden backless gown, her dark hair wound up in an elaborate twist, diamond earrings hanging from her ears. After a day of spas and pampering, she felt buffed and polished from head to toe, her makeup pristine and not a hair out of place. Not that many could tell about her makeup, as half her face was covered with the golden cat-eye mask Durand had gifted her. It suited her face perfectly, however, the fit comfortable, and she wondered how he’d managed to find a mask that fit her so well. She wore gold from head to toe, and almost worried she might look too much like a walking awards statuette. Though she could tell from the sidelong glances of the men in the room that the form-fitting dress made the impression she wanted. The golden fabric of her dress draped across her lower back, held by two small straps around her shoulders. She opted for no bra and felt like she was pure liquid as she moved. One man eyed her with appreciation as she walked, a man who looked like he might even be a former president. But she didn’t care.
The only person she wanted to impress was Mathis Durand. When she stepped into the elegant eggshell-colored ballroom with the crystal chandeliers and soaring ceilings, she searched the crowd for Durand, but found no sign of him.
Where was he?
She took an offered glass of champagne and worked her way through the actors, heirs and dignitaries, their identities all hidden behind gilded masks. Asha should feel glad just to be here with the official invite, smug in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be kicked out. She could finally see what all the fuss was about, all the whispers and
gossip. Yet all she wanted to do was find Durand.
She was getting soft. There was no other way around it. She took a sip of the expensive champagne and wondered whether she’d ever get her edge back. Durand had gotten under her skin, had become her new obsession. She could think of little else, and worried that she might never think of anything else again. Her organic makeup business almost needed to run itself this month, and she’d let at least half a dozen voice mails from her father go unanswered. All she wanted to do was focus on Durand.
Was this what love was? she thought.
Asha clutched her champagne stem as she moved through the ball. There was something delicious about being anonymous, about moving through a roomful of powerful people without really knowing who they were, or them knowing her. The din of voices grew louder as more people packed into the room.
Where was Durand?
She flagged down a passing waiter. “Bitte, excuse me. Sprechen zie English?”
This was the extent of her German, picked up from her travels.
“Yes,” the waiter replied, bowing his head.
“Do you know where Monsieur Durand might be?”
“I am sorry, Fraulein.” He shook his head. “I do not know.”
Asha bit her lip. “Thank you,” she murmured, already turning her attention elsewhere. Where was Durand? Then, she caught a glimpse of him walking down the side steps, Madelyn leading the way. She wasn’t wearing a mask, she noticed. She clutched a tablet to her chest as she led him away. Where was she taking him? Durand’s face looked somber as he went. Society business? she wondered.
She decided to follow them. She wondered what it could be. A trespasser? A catering catastrophe? She held back a bit as she followed through the crowd, leading her to a narrow hallway near the kitchen, and a small double-doored office. She hung back as the door opened, peeking around the corner of the small hallway. She saw a striking blonde, wearing nothing but lacy underwear, reach out from the office and drag Durand in. She saw a flash of pale skin and pink nipples through the sheer lace, and then Durand was gone—inside the office. Madelyn stayed outside the door, her back to it, guarding whatever was going on inside.
Asha felt cold and then hot again as a dozen different emotions rushed through her. Anger, jealousy, hurt. Hadn’t he just demanded her loyalty, her fidelity in bed? And now he was rushing into a Nordic goddess’s arms? Is this what happened at all his parties? Maybe the society was nothing more than his own personal sex club. The thought made bile rise up in her throat. She’d go confront him. She’d tell him that he’d made the last mistake he’d ever make with her. She stalked up to the door, and Madelyn’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Let me in,” she told the assistant, who narrowed her eyes as she glanced up and down Asha’s clinging gold dress.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that,” Madelyn said, a triumphant look on her face. She was enjoying this. “Monsieur Durand is occupied at the moment.”
“I saw,” Asha said, voice clipped. “Let me in. Now.”
“I warned you not to get too attached, Ms. Patel,” Madelyn said, voice low and blue eyes narrowed. “You are not the only woman using your body to try to get a membership.”
Asha felt like she’d been slapped. The contempt in Madelyn’s eyes cut right through her.
“That’s not what I’m doing here,” she countered.
“Isn’t it?” Madelyn raised a knowing eyebrow, and Asha clutched one fist at her side. She wasn’t prone to violence, but she had a sudden urge to shove this smug assistant.
“No, it isn’t. Now, move aside.”
Madelyn caught the attention of a security guard in a black jacket as he walked past the hallway. The black jacket pivoted and headed towards them. “Don’t make me have Becker see you out,” Madelyn said, nodding at the guard as he approached.
Asha weighed the options of making a scene and hoping Durand came out to save her and whether he’d ignore the commotion if he was too busy inside with the mostly naked blonde. As she debated, Madelyn glanced at her tablet in her hands.
“Also, you should know, Ms. Patel, that I believe Mr. Connor Henry, your former paramour, is here.”
Asha glanced sharply at Madelyn. “What do you mean? Durand revoked his membership.” Didn’t he? That’s what he told her, anyway. Had that been a lie as well?
Madelyn cocked her head to one side, a superior smile curving her mouth. “I believe he’s in the ballroom now, or technically, the smoking room on the north side, if you’d like to ask him.”
Asha hesitated. She knew she couldn’t trust Madelyn. It was likely a trick. And yet... She glanced at the burly security guard in black, ready to do Madelyn’s bidding. She had little choice but to leave. She might as well see what the hell Connor was doing here. If Durand felt so little about her, what really was the point in staying?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“PUT SOME CLOTHES ON, Your Highness,” Durand instructed the naked Swedish princess, as she tried to press her body against him mere steps from the hotel ballroom. He didn’t appreciate being ambushed in the small office off of the kitchen, and there wasn’t much room to maneuver here.
“Is that the way you treat an old friend?” Princess Lilly asked, blond eyebrow raised, as she thrust out her impressive, gravity-defying chest. Durand realized then that Madelyn had set him up. She’d known about the naked princess. Had led him here on purpose. To distract him from searching for Asha. Were there no lengths that woman wouldn’t go? He’d thought she’d let go of her petty jealousy, but now he realized he’d been wrong about that.
“This will not help reinstate your membership,” Durand said.
“Come on now, I made one mistake.” Princess Lilly grabbed the lapels of his jacket.
“You tried to turn one of my events into a sex party,” he said.
“That’s just a little fun.” She shrugged one bare shoulder.
“No. That is not what the Sphinx Society is about. If you want a sex club, form one yourself.”
Princess Lilly laughed and pulled him closer. “You didn’t seem to mind the sex when we had it.”
Durand untangled the woman’s fingers from his jacket, suddenly regretting his choice of lifestyle up until now. It all seemed so shallow, so short-sighted. He was here dealing with a woman whom he didn’t care about, when the one he wanted more than anything was most likely wandering the ballroom by herself, fending off advances from other men. He was wasting his time here, just like he’d wasted much of his grown life until now. Avoiding love... Why? Because he was afraid. A coward. All he wanted to do was end this meeting as soon as possible so he could go find Asha.
In fact, he wanted to find her so badly, he thought he might have heard her voice outside the door. Or did he imagine it?
“Your suspension will be over next week, and then you can attend the year’s Masquerade Ball,” Durand said. This, of course, was the most sought-after invitation in the Sphinx Society, where all the guests went overboard with full costumes, outfits that made the Met Gala look...tame. “Unless you want to try to bribe me, and then I’ll have no choice but to extend your probation.”
Princess Lilly searched his eyes and then snatched her wrap dress from a nearby chair and pulled it around her. “I’m not trying to bribe you. I’m just being friendly.” She glanced at him once more. “So, I’ll be able to attend the Masquerade Ball this year?”
That’s what she was really worried about, after all.
“Yes,” he said and nodded. “So if that’s all the business we have, I need to be on my way.”
“Of course.” Princess Lilly nodded her head and stepped aside. He threw open the door and nearly collided with Madelyn.
“Have you seen Asha?” Durand asked as he looked down the corridor but found it empty.
Madelyn glanced at her tablet, deliberately not making eye contact. “I believe
she’s searching out Connor Henry.”
“What is he doing here?” Durand growled. “His membership is revoked.”
“I attempted to tell you before, but...”
Durand recalled the conversation on the balcony, when he’d cut her off. She’d deliberately not led with the important news, and he’d been distracted by thoughts of Asha, and then with the Princess of Sweden. “You should have told me.”
“I tried, sir.” Madelyn glanced up quickly, but then lowered her lashes. Her growing inability to separate her personal feelings from her work was becoming untenable. At a calmer moment, he’d have a very serious discussion with her about just that.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said. “Where did Asha go?”
“I believe she’s in the smoking room.”
“Then, that’s where I’m headed. We will talk about your insubordination later.”
* * *
Asha saw Connor first, sitting in an oversized leather chair by the fireplace, brandy glass in another, and an unlit cigar butt in his mouth. He wore a simple black mask, and a red velvet jacket with black lapels. The small red-carpeted smoking room with the marble fireplace and the four chairs arranged in front of oak shelves lined with books seemed too small all of a sudden. Connor looked smug, his floppy brown hair was perfect, as usual, and he seemed every inch like one of the spies he played in the dozen or so movies he’d starred in. Asha glanced around for any sign of Kayli, that model he’d been dating, but found none. Had he come solo? And if so, why?
“What are you doing here?” Asha asked him, stalking right up to his chair and standing in front of him, arms crossed.
“I’m in Berlin for the premiere of Gunshot. And it’s good to see you too, Asha,” he said, his brown eyes giving her a slow once-over, his dimple just visible in his cheek as he grinned. “You look good enough to eat.”
“As if you’ll ever get that chance.”
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