by H. M. Ward
“It was supposed to be…” my voice is a whisper, and the hollow spot in the center of my chest feels like it’s going to crush me.
“I know. Beth, I can’t thank you enough for this. I know what it means for you.” Colin whispers into my ear.
He spins me around, and I see Michael Frey surrounded by a group of people including a few influential senators. Catherine and Anne Degatto stand directly to his right, and my mother stands to his left, uncharacteristically silent and hanging on his every word.
Mr. Frey is the only one not wearing a mask. He looks the same as I remember him. His thick wavy hair is dark with distinguished streaks of gray shooting through it at the temples. His skin is lightly tanned from the Texas sun. Catherine Degatto says something to him, and he gives her one of those smiles politicians always wear, revealing white teeth that are either trustworthy or predatory, depending on the camera angle. After a moment, he gazes in Colin’s direction and tilts his head slightly, motioning him over.
The music stops, and Colin sighs. “Let’s get this over with and greet the old man before I turn into a pumpkin. Come on.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Colin.” Colin’s father is intimidating, and I’m already emotionally unsteady. “He’ll see right through this, and my mother’s standing beside him.”
Colin glances at them and then squeezes my hand. “He won’t say anything. Tonight is too important for him.”
“Mr. Frey.” A familiar deep voice interrupts from behind us. “If you don’t mind, I’d like the pleasure of dancing with Miss Bennet.”
A dark-haired man in a black mask circles from behind to step between Mr. Frey's groupies and us. Even in four-inch heels, this hot stranger is an inch or two taller than me and oozing sex appeal. I can’t help but drink in his incredibly broad shoulders. His tux fits snug against his muscular body. The curve of his mask highlights his sexy lips and the smattering of dark stubble along his chiseled face.
My heart skips a beat as he studies me beneath thick, dark lashes. The royal blue lining of his mask matches his bright eyes. Our eyes lock and his lips curl into a delicious smirk. My stomach flitters as I realize who this man is.
“Of course, Mr. Darcy. I’m sure Beth would love to,” Colin holds out my hand, offering it to him. “I have business to attend to elsewhere.”
I panic, unable to come up with an excuse. Use your words, Beth! Damn it, say no!
“Have fun,” Colin whispers in my ear as he kisses my cheek, “and close your mouth. Gaping isn't attractive.”
I shut my mouth and frown as I watch Colin leave. There’s a sound of violins as the orchestra starts playing again.
“Do you know the tango, Miss Bennet?”
I gaze down at William’s open hand and then back up into ocean blue eyes. Other women fall over themselves wanting to have his hands on their skin, to feel his rock hard body pressed against their own, to run their tongue along his jaw...
I did that and more, but it’s as if the night by the pool never happened.
It comes rushing back to me now.
Darcy is a beacon, calling to me, tempting me. My hands float up and slide into his warm palms. His fingers wrap around mine gently even though those eyes are thinking about something else entirely. His mouth opens ever so slightly, and his breathing grows shallow. I know he’s also thinking about the other night, about where his hands were and how he made me feel. My stomach flips and my body flushes crimson.
“Dance with me.” His voice is low and rough. It catches in his throat sounding almost guttural. I wonder what noises he'd make if I touched him the way he touched me. If I slid my hand along his hard length and felt him in my hand, would he groan and toss his head back. Would he say my name?
I’m close to trembling. I haven’t had to deal with anything like this publicly before. As he guides me to the center of the dance floor, I realize there are too many eyes. Too many people will see me not with Colin, and I can't hide how enamored I am with William Darcy.
I find my voice, “We shouldn’t.”
“It’s only a dance, Elizabeth.” His deep voice sends a current through me, peaking my senses and making me mute. The way he says my name is an aphrodisiac and I want more. I want to hear it again.
“I thought you only referred to me as Miss Bennet?” I smile coyly at him as he slides his hand down my back, and lightly touches the spot just above my hip. It’s blatantly improper. What is he thinking?
He dips his head and begins to lead us across the floor. The corner of his mouth tips up into a boyish grin. “I think we’re a little more intimate than that, aren’t we?”
My face heats up, and I’m sure my skin is the color of my dress. Did he say that? He lifts his arm and leads me through, pulling me back tightly to his chest. His hand returns to the small of my back as his fingers slip down and graze the top of my butt.
There are too many words, thoughts, and emotions colliding together inside my head. I want this. I want a man that excites me. Colin’s kisses seem like kittens compared to a mere look from Darcy. The intense gaze of his eyes takes my breath away, and I’m not even mentioning what he does to the rest of me. Tingles shoot up and down my arms, the skin on my legs is begging to be touched, my nipples are taut and straining against my bra, and that last place—the one that matters most when it comes to a man—it’s already wet.
When did I become this woman? How am I so aroused by a guy like this? He’s nothing I want, but my body says he’s everything I need. My mind is at war, and my emotions cast a thick fog over everything. If I marry Colin, I lose this. I forfeit my chance for a fairy tale ending and my first shot at true love. I’ll die a martyr for my best friend, and my lady parts will shrivel up in solitude. Real or fake, I’m not cheating once I’m married. It’s a promise of loyalty, and I keep my promises.
Darcy presses his cheek to mine. I breathe in slowly, jaggedly, inhaling his scent. It fills my head, making me feel like I could float away from all these problems. I close my eyes, and we dance like that for a moment, or maybe a day, I don’t know. It feels too long, so I pull away.
Darcy’s hard gaze isn’t there when I step back and glance up into his face. In its place is a man who seemingly understands what I’m doing, a man who understands how much Colin means to me. I finally manage, “I’m engaged.”
“I know.”
I nod once, then again. My eyes stay on the floor, fixed to his shiny black shoes. I hold my hands, wringing them, wishing for something I’m not brave enough to admit I want. “So, this isn’t appropriate.”
“It was only a dance, unless…” He steps into my face and tucks a finger under my chin. He tips my head back so he can meet my gaze. “Unless you want more.”
Darcy watches me, not explaining his meaning, not needing to.
I nod before I can speak.
Suddenly his heels are together like a soldier dismissed. His familiar cold expression slides back over his face, and I’m left wondering what happened. I thought he wanted me? I thought he was asking? I rub my arms to chase away the rising goose bumps and watch his back disappear into the crowd. My stomach sinks as I realize what happened.
Darcy suggested our little infatuation is only a flirtation. We could stop whenever we want. But then I admitted I’d be unfaithful to a man who values loyalty above all else.
What have I done?
CHAPTER 25
I wander out of the ballroom and onto the balcony, needing space to think. After a few minutes, Jane finds me. Her cheeks are pink with excitement, and there’s a spring in her step. It’s wonderful to see her so happy.
She laughs and hands me a champagne flute. “Beth, tonight has been incredible.”
I take a sip and glance over at her. “It has been. I saw you and Cameron together. You two look like you’re trapped in a fairytale.”
“If that’s true, I hope we never have to turn the page.” She tips her head back and smiles at the stars. My lovestruck sister never shows this muc
h emotion, ever.
“I’m happy for you, Jane. Truly. You better get back in there, Cameron will be missing you.”
She nods, placing her half-empty glass on a nearby table. When she turns back to me, the smile fades from her face. “Are you all right? I saw you dancing with Darcy, and I know you don’t care for him. You seemed upset.”
I fabricate a smile and hold it in place. I’m not ruining her night with my drama. Plus, I have no idea what I think about any of this. I want to figure that out before I cry on her—because that’s what I feel like doing. But I can’t. She’s filled with joy, and I can’t snuff it out.
I roll my eyes and put on the full act. “Jane, I’m fine. He said something dickish, that’s all. Between him, Colin, and Mr. Frey—I just needed some air.”
“I understand.” She places her small hand lightly on my shoulder. “You are beautiful, Beth. No one can make you feel bad about yourself without your permission.”
“Stop channeling Eleanor Roosevelt.” I tease, giving her arm a gentle push. “Go back to the ball. Enjoy your night with the prince.”
Her nose crinkles up, and she giggles. “I know, right?”
“Dance until your feet give out, so Cameron will have to carry you home on his steed.”
She blushes and swats at me. “Don’t call it that!”
“Jane!” My eyes nearly bug out of my head. She never says anything remotely perverted. We both giggle for a moment before she disappears inside.
I turn to resume my study of the city below. A spattering of stars rarely seen here shine brightly tonight. The lights from Manhattan usually drown them out. I’m lost in thought, looking at the world below, wondering if life could ever be so beautiful, so picturesque, when I feel eyes on my back.
I turn slowly and come face to face with Darcy. He towers above me, no mask, and inclines his head. “I need to speak to you, to ask you something.”
“So ask me, then.” I swallow hard, expecting to be blindsided with scorn, but Darcy presses his lips together and closes his eyes. He glances past me once, and then reaches for my hand.
“Come with me.”
CHAPTER 27
Darcy moves quickly, cutting through the crowd of people. He places a hand on the small of my back, leading me from behind, pushing me into the hallway. Before I can say anything, his touch changes from gentle to rough. He practically shoves me to a nearby exit and into the stairwell.
“Watch your step.” That voice, the way it slides out of his mouth. I swear he could command me to come right now and I would. The way he speaks is liquid sex, hot and smooth, caressing me in all the right places.
I climb a flight of stairs, feeling his hot gaze on my ass watching it shift in this tight red dress. The material slips over my curves with each step, and the little train pools behind me as I climb.
He pushes us through a metal door, and we’re outside. A rush of wind blows my hair off my shoulders. The moon and stars provide the only light up here. I look out at the city far below. It’s my city, my home. I’ve missed this place, everything from the smell of the air to the sounds that make New York unique. There’s one other thing that makes this city breathtaking, and he’s standing behind me.
I don’t know what to say. I have no idea what he wants, but he seems so torn. The way his brow wrinkles and those eyes narrow to slits, I’d think he was going to scream at me. He’s angry, upset with himself and with me. I shouldn’t have said that downstairs. I should have acted cold and unconcerned. I could have continued to pretend I hate him, but when I saw him tonight something inside me changed. I don’t want him to hate himself every time he sees me. I need to explain, that was my fault—the pool, the kiss, and the other stuff.
I suck in a generous amount of night air and leave my mouth hanging open for too long. My hands lift, and I shake my head. “William? William, I—”
I called him by his first name. After he called me by mine, I had to—it felt right. But now, when he lifts his gaze to meet mine, I shrink back. Rage mixes with fire and ignites within him. I see it explode in those brilliantly beautiful eyes.
With a sudden fierceness, he steps toward me, grabs me by the waist, jerks me to him, and silences me when he crushes his mouth to mine. Those lips—those hot, perfectly swollen, soft lips—ravage mine, making me feel faint. His stubble rubs against my chin as he does so, leaving it raw. His tongue slips between the seams of my lips and deepens the kiss instantly, demanding more.
The scent of him is all around me. I’m drowning in his touch, his scent, and his taste. We’re moving back, and I’m against a cold brick wall. I shriek into his mouth as my spine curves away from the brick, pushing harder against his chest. Darcy moans into my mouth as his fingers stretch across my cheeks, cradling my face.
My pulse pounds deafeningly in my ears as my stomach fills with butterflies. Waves of emotion batter against me from within, warring, each wanting to win. Darcy is going to hate himself for this. Pull away. Then the feel of his lips on mine cuts through the thought and I’ve lost the string. I can’t remember what I was thinking, and my hands tangle in his hair as I lift a knee up along his thigh.
Desperate to feel his hard body beneath my fingertips, I slide my hands under his jacket, looking for the hem of his shirt. I want to feel those hot muscles under my hands. I want to do things to him, things I never understood before, things I’d deny in the light of day.
In an instant, his jacket is off. And my hands fly down his shirt, almost ripping off his buttons. When my hand touches his hot, muscled stomach, I moan with pleasure.
I tug at his shirt, lifting it, crawling it up out of his pants. He’s breathing heavily, watching me as I unbutton his tux shirt. My thoughts won’t leave this alone. I need to feel the pads of my fingers slide across his tight nipples. I want to lean in and press my face to his chest and lick the lines of his abs down to his waist, down to his…
My lips are suddenly there, unapologetic and unmasking. I press my mouth against his hard chest over and over again, working my way to the part I want. Those dark little buds of flesh stand up for me. I wrap my lips around one and flick it with my tongue. Darcy shudders and his hand moves over my back, unzipping my gown. I inhale deeply as the constricting pressure of the bodice loosens.
I’m afraid to look into his eyes, afraid of what I’ll see there, so I keep my head lowered and my eyes on his chest. I wrap my arms around his back and dig my fingernails into his soft skin, as my lips travel down his chest. I want to go lower, kneel, and do more. I never, in my life, have wanted to do this—but now I can’t stop. I want his dick in my mouth so I can taste him, feel him, suck him until he says my name.
But Darcy has other plans. He takes me by the shoulders and presses me back into the wall with one strong arm across my chest. My gown is barely hanging on and slips down one shoulder, revealing bare skin and a tight nipple. Darcy’s lips part, forming an O, as he leans in toward me. It’s agonizing waiting for his lips to touch me, but he doesn’t go directly to my breast, he starts higher, at my neck.
Darcy works his way down, holding me in place as he does so. When he reaches the tops of my breasts, he releases me and shoves the bodice down. Both breasts are exposed, rising and falling softly as I breathe.
He watches me for a moment, his eyes seeing nothing but my curves before he wets his lips and bows his head. I suck in air and press back into the wall as Darcy takes my breast in his mouth. He gently flicks my nipple with his tongue, pressing it with his teeth, and then sucking gently while he slips his mouth away.
I can’t breathe. I can’t cry out. There’s no air, no words. I close my eyes and arch my back, aching for more. Then he’s there, his face alongside my breast, sweeping his cheek against my soft skin. His stubble prickles, scratching me, filling me with pleasure and pain. I gasp and nearly cry out when his mouth returns to my chest and takes in my nipple, sucking it hard, nipping me with his teeth.
I whimper as his stubbled chin scrapes along my breas
ts, alternating from one nipple to the other. I tangle my hands in his hair, wanting to guide him, but he pins my hands to the wall and crushes his body to mine. His mouth is on mine, and the kiss heats me, making my core pulse softly as I imagine him inside me.
I wrap a leg around him, needing him against me. He lifts me and presses me against the wall, allowing me to straddle him. When I lock my heels around his waist, Darcy tips his head back and closes his eyes for a moment. His jaw drops, and he makes a sound I want to hear again. It’s raw, filled with pleasure. He’s normally so guarded, so in control of himself. To see Darcy like this, lost in passion, it's unthinkable. It feels like magic, like a fairytale.
The thought jars the conversation I had with Jane earlier, about her fairytale. This is something else, and I’m drowning in the moment. This isn’t real. This isn’t him, and it’s not me.
“William.” I say his name once, and the amount of control in my voice shocks me.
He looks up, a sheen of sweat on the brow of his beautiful face. I’m breathing hard, looking into his eyes, and he knows. He puts me down, and I straighten my gown, zipping it closed.
Darcy stands there, white shirt in stark contrast against the inky night sky, chest bared and his jacket in a puddle of cloth on the ground. He breathes in, and I watch his pecs swell until he releases the air and repeats.
“I wish…” I stammer trying to find words, but there are none. I watch him with remorse, knowing there can’t ever be anything between us. I’ve chosen my path, and Darcy knows his. They don’t meet. There’s no intersection. We can’t do this.
I don’t have to say more. He read it in my eyes before I said his name. I expect him to go cold again and shun me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands there, hands in his pockets, looking like a god with that perfect body.
“I know. So do I.”
I tuck my chin and avoid his gaze, meaning to walk past him to the door. Darcy reaches out and takes my arm. I look down at his hand and then up into his face. “This was never meant to be, you know that as well as I do.”