He lifted me up again like I was only air.
I was clumsy and crashed into his chiseled chest. His eyes lingered on my lips and he kissed me again, a kiss filled with the taste of red wine and copper.
Why copper?
I couldn’t make it out of the room because my head was dizzy with his intoxicating kiss.
“Please forgive me, I can’t control myself around you. Your beauty outshines the stars,” he whispered in my ear.
Goose pimples raised up all along my arms and all I could do was say, “I need that drink, please, and to find Delilah.”
“As you wish, my love.” He took my arm in his and moved to push back the oak-paneled doors and lead me to the top of the stairs. I stared down at a gorgeous ballroom swarming with masked dancers. It was if I had been transported into a long-ago time.
I am distinctly modern, however. And underdressed.
I groaned.
“What is it, my dear?”
“Everybody is dressed to the nines and I look like I just came out of a club.”
“You look splendid, but I can find you something to wear if you like?”
“No, you’ve done enough for me...” I rambled, but before I could finish he snapped his fingers and a servant appeared.
“Please take Lizzie to change into new attire.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“My darling, no matter what you wear, you are absolutely pretty enough to tempt me.”
I giggled at the reference to the Austen book.
My Mr. Darcy continued, “But we cannot have you be uncomfortable. Please, accept my hospitality.”
Chapter 8
The dresses hung on racks as if we were in a discount store.
I was still trying to remember what my size would be in European styles when a tall, dark-haired woman approached me. “Have you seen anything you like?”
“That’s a lovely yellow dress there.” I pointed.
The woman shook her perfectly coiffed head. “That is not your color, my dear. You need something to show off your lovely chestnut hair. Something like…” Her fingers danced through the hangers until she came out with a beautiful ball gown. I wouldn’t have guessed that I could fall in love with any dress that had brown in it. But in this case, gold embroidery and the colors of the rest of the fabric looked perfect against the brown.
“We have dressing rooms over there.” The woman gestured toward curtained-off areas. “And when you’re done, I will make any nips or tucks that are necessary for a perfect fit.”
I was stunned to discover everything that the tickets to the Christmas Ball included.
My own seamstress? Seriously?
When I moved out of the fitting room, my own dress on the hanger, the seamstress took my dress away. “You can claim this at the end of the ball,” she said.
I didn’t even stop to wonder how anyone would know which dress I’d left with her. Instead, I twirled around in front of the mirror.
Again.
I felt and looked like a princess. Lost in my thoughts, I was surprised when I felt arms wrapped around my waist and hot breath on my neck.
“I couldn’t wait much longer,” My Mr. Darcy said. He moved around to face me. “And you will need this, as well, my dear.” Mr. Darcy pulled a mask out from behind his back. It matched the dress perfectly, the gold embroidery on brown silk creating the perfect counterpoint to my dress.
“It’s beautiful,” I gasped. “How did you know which dress I would wear?”
“Miss Rose has excellent taste. I was certain this was the dress she would choose for you.”
Mr. Darcy and the seamstress exchange significant glances. I couldn’t work out what they might mean, so I ignored them. “Well, it’s absolutely beautiful,” I said, reaching out to give Mr. Darcy kiss on the cheek.
* * *
He tied the masquerade mask to my face, then spun me around. I grew dizzy with delight.
“Would you like to dance?” Mr. Darcy asked.
I slipped my hand into his. “I would love to you.”
“Not without dancing slippers,” the seamstress said. She picked up my heels and rolled her eyes.
When she returned, it was with a pair of gold-embroidered slippers.
“Now I really do feel like Cinderella,” I said. “If only these were glass.”
Mr. Darcy laughed. I suspected he didn’t really think my joke was funny. Or maybe he didn’t get it? Surely that couldn’t be it. He was worldly man, obviously. Certainly, he knew the basics of Cinderella.
“Now are we ready?”
When I nodded, he took me by the hand and began to lead me back to the stairs. As we came around a curve in the stairs, I caught a glimpse into the floor-level ballroom lit in beautiful golden light.
And in the center of the room, couples twirled around to the strains of the waltz played by a string quartet.
I opened my mouth again to ask his name when he interrupted me. “Would you like to dance, once we get downstairs?”
The setting was absolutely beautiful, but I frowned. “I’ll never be able to find Delilah in all this,” I said, staring in dismay at all the women in masks floating along the dance floor.
“Your friend is in a silver dress with matching mask.” Mr. Darcy began scanning the crowd.
I started to push my mask back so I could see better—the tiny eye holes were interfering a little bit with my vision. Mr. Darcy held out his hand and placed it on mine, stopping me.
“The mask is not to be removed throughout the night. At midnight, we will have an unmasking. Until then, leave the mask on and at least the upper half of your face covered.”
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” I pushed down the tiny sliver of irritation I felt at this virtual stranger’s high handedness.
Well, I thought, I wanted Mr. Darcy. Looks like that’s what I’m getting.
Chapter 9
“There your friend is.” Mr. Darcy pointed at one of the figures on the dance floor.
It certainly looked like Delilah.
“Shall we meet her when she finishes this dance?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, please.”
We moved around to intercept the silver-clad woman as she walked off the dance floor moments later. “Delilah?”
“Lizzie!” My friend threw her arms around me. “I thought you were going to be passed out forever. This party is amazing.”
“I told you I would take care of your friend.” Mr. Darcy bowed over Delilah’s hand and she gave it to him with a smile.
This from the woman who had snarled at him? I believe hell has frozen over.
“Now, if you’ll pardon us, Ms. Lizzie has promised me the next waltz.”
Thank God I really did know how to waltz—it was just about the only old-fashioned dance I knew, though I’d spent hours and hours watching the choreography in the Jane Austen movies.
As Mr. Darcy led me onto the dance floor, Delilah grabbed me and whispered in my ear, “Find me later. So much to tell you.”
You have no idea.
On the dance floor, Mr. Darcy wrapped one arm around my waist, placing his hand to the small of my back.
When I placed my other hand in his, I felt really safe from anything that might attack me.
What was that? Seriously, what could attack me here?
I glanced up into Mr. Darcy’s beautiful brown eyes to find him staring at me calculatedly.
Then he blinked, and the moment was gone. The strains of music began again, and he swept me out into the couples swirling around and around on the dance floor. Luckily, he was an amazing dancer, easy to follow. When the song ended, he pulled me tight against his chest for just an instant, long enough to press his lips to mine.
This time, the kiss left me breathless.
“Would you care for a drink?” he asked.
“Yes please.” I let him lead me off the dance floor and to one of the chairs arranged along the edge of the room. He brought back a glas
s of wine and I found myself drinking it too fast.
A new song began to play, and we danced. I tried to find Delilah again, but we spun around so fast that people were mere blurs of colors.
“Do you do this often? Pick up strange women off the streets, kiss them, and try to seduce them?” I asked.
“There is no trying, I simply do,” he laughed. “I always get what I want, Ms. Smith.”
“Oh, and what do you want?”
“You.” Possession echoed from his voice and moved through me as if threading itself around my heart.
Shivers ran down my spine.
This wasn’t a man who would take no for an answer.
I was playing cat and mouse, but I didn’t expect to be caught.
Suddenly, I decided it was a good time to get a drink to clear my head.
“Please excuse me, I need a moment to breathe.”
He grabbed my hand gently, even though I had a feeling those hands knew how to be rough. “Promise me you’ll be back?”
“Yes. I’m only getting a drink.”
Why were the hot guys so often possessive and weird?
Oh, hell. I completely led him on by letting me kiss me.
I could practically hear Delilah’s voice saying, That’s what you get for being such a slut.
Placing his hand on mine, he looked into my eyes. “You’re not a slut, Lizzie. I value a woman who goes after her desires.”
Chills ran down my spine again. “Did I say that aloud?”
“I heard it.”
I wanted to protest, Delilah’s only joking when she says it. But instead, I laughed off the moment with a joke. “Are you psychic or something?”
“Something like that.” His fingers trailed along mine as he let go of my hand, sending sparks shivering up my arms and along the back of my neck.
I blinked. “Never mind the drink. I’m a little dizzy. I think maybe I should lie down.”
“Of course, dearest.”
Had there been something in the wine he brought me?
Surely not.
I followed him upstairs, no longer able to follow what he was saying.
His voice affected me like a drug. It made me slow and sleepy. My limbs felt heavy and my eyelids fluttered shut for just a moment. When I opened them, I was back on the chaise.
“You realize you are mine, right?” he asked.
“I do,” I said, almost giggling about the funny way I answered as if this were a wedding ceremony and we were making vows.
“Then we should consummate our agreements.”
The answer, too, acknowledge the similarities between our words and all the things I had heard said in weddings.
But then his mouth was on mine, and the strange lassitude that had overtaken me began slowly bringing something to life instead.
A dark, deep hunger held me in its grasp.
I wanted him, and he was the only one who could slake the thirst I felt.
His arms wrapped around me, and I all but slumped against him. My head rested on his chest and I felt as if I should be able to feel something more of him. The magnetic hunger I knew I felt from him seem like it ought to be matched by a kind of animal magnetism.
And that was there, to some degree.
But where he should be hot and animalistic, the beast inside him seemed cold, calculating, almost literally uncaring.
Then his mouth was on mine and it drove all other thoughts from my mind.
Mr. Darcy trailed kisses down my neck and across my collarbones as I shivered.
“Wait, my darling,” he purred, standing to close the door behind us. For an instant, it occurred to me to think I shouldn’t be doing this. When he began kissing me again, all rational thought fled, and I couldn’t remember why I shouldn’t be doing it. Only that it was a bad idea.
Have fun.
Delilah’s instructions to me before the trip echoed through my head.
I don’t even know this guy’s name.
Then again, wasn’t that part of the fun? Coming to Italy, hooking up with a complete stranger, then going home without ever having tried to make it into more than it was.
I returned his kisses with interest.
“Who do you belong to?” he rasped.
“You,” I replied, my voice ragged with need.
He drew me into another kiss, this one long and slow and sensual. His lips seemed warmer now than they had earlier. And when he slid one hand under my skirt and moved the other until it was cupping one of my breasts, I moaned.
“That’s my girl,” Mr. Darcy murmured.
Then he was carefully removing my clothes, hanging every item in a small closet that would keep my fantastic new clothing from being wrinkled or damaged when we put it back on.
When I stood almost naked before him, wearing nothing by the lacy black silk underwear and bra I’d worn, along with black stockings, he stopped to admire me.
“Oh, yes, you are pretty enough to tempt me.”
He led me by the hands to the enormous four-poster bed in the center of the room. He loomed in toward me, and I almost shrank away in fear.
But he pressed me back onto the bed, and I sank into it gratefully.
He pressed his knee into the mattress, then slid down to give me a melting kiss.
Chapter 10
I don’t know when I slipped into the dream-memory.
I don’t know when Mr. Darcy left me alone. But I was back home, at least in my dream
For at least the thousandth time, I thumbed through the worn-out copy of Pride and Prejudice my mother gave me on my fourteenth birthday.
It had been the last gift my mother ever gave me.
Picking up my red wine, I took a sip, focusing on the blue tint of the glass.
Maybe if I focus hard enough, I won’t cry again over not having my parents in my life.
Tears blurred my vision as I recalled the car crash that took my mother and father. Biting my lower lip, I wiped the tears that did fall and took a deep breath.
To add salt to the wound, I dove into teaching like it was nobody’s business, which drove a wedge between men and the prospect of any relationship or marriage.
I took another sip—actually a gulp this time—and drowned my sorrows.
Sighing, I flipped to my favorite page and re-read Mr. Darcy confessing his undying love for my fictional counterpart.
I wish I had a Mr. Darcy in my life. Ugh. I'm going to die a spinster and I’m only twenty-eight. My job sucks, I have no family, and who really wants to marry a teacher with long hours anyway? That’s why Joseph left me. Oh, no. Wait that’s why he cheated on me—because I’m married to my job. At least I have friends. God, Delilah can be a pain the ass, but I love her to death.
A knock at my apartment door snapped me out of my pity party. I almost didn’t want to open it.
Maybe I could just hide in my bedroom.
The knocking turned to pounding. Finally standing up from the couch, I stumbled over my cat, Bingley, to see who was invading my personal time.
Turning the knob slowly, I cracked the door open. “Jesus Christ, Delilah, did you just read my mind? I was thinking about you. So what’s the emergency that you have to knock down my door?”
Delilah grinned from ear to ear and waved two plane tickets.
“What are those?” I asked.
Delilah simply placed them in my hands.
“My friend, we are going to Venice! And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Dude. You couldn’t just call me?” I blew out a frustrated sigh.
“Well, dude, I tried, and you didn’t answer.” Delilah pushed past me, checking out the situation in my living room. “Ooh. Having another pity party for one tonight?”
I dodged her question, moving back to my couch to hide the book. But I failed miserably, and Delilah snatched it out of my hand.
“Seriously, Liz. I get that you love this book and all, but why do you torture yourself? You drink wine, re-read Mr. Darcy pining o
ver Lizzie and then call me to cry.”
“I didn’t call you tonight,” I snapped.
“Well, I came just in time,” Delilah said, pointing to the half-empty wine glass sitting on my coffee table.
“I was just relaxing after a hard day at school. Those kids were holy terrors today.”
Delilah slit her eyes and nodded. “Uh-huh. That’s your excuse every night. I know it’s tough being a teacher. I get it. That’s why I had to bail after six years. But it’s not an excuse to wallow over a fictional man. Or over not having one.”
“It’s not wallowing in self-pity, it’s self-care. It’s the thing that gets me through my days and helps me reset.”
“Sure, it is.” Delilah gave me a skeptical look. “I know you love teaching. But seriously--is it your purpose in life? Does it make you really happy?” Delilah replied.
No. The answer came to me instantly.
I gritted my teeth and pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn’t want to have this conversation with Delilah. The first year of teaching, I absolutely loved it, but now my patience and mental well-being were being sucked out of me. I really didn’t think it was my purpose in life anymore. I knew I was destined for something greater, but unsure what it really was.
“Anyway, enough about me. Explain the tickets and why we’re going to Venice.”
“Girl, is that the thanks I get? You need a break and you’re already on Christmas vacation and I know you don’t go back until after the New Year. This is exactly what the doctor ordered.”
“So, if I throw a tantrum, you still won’t take no for an answer?”
“Exactly.”
“Fine. I’ll go but under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Can we get your reliable sister to house sit for me?”
“Definitely. She’s actually in the car waiting to set up camp. I had to wait to see if you did throw a tantrum before I let her up here.” Delilah winked.
“Why did you bring her so soon? When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning, and we have to be at the airport at 5:00 a.m.”
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