by Miranda King
He avoided my question, grabbed my hips, and swung us in a 180-degree turn. My back was against his chest and right in front of me was—
Christian.
He wasn’t really dancing—the tall brunette did all the dancing for them both.
He shot his eyes straight to my face… and then lower, up and down, all over my body. I trembled under his look. It was predatory, fierce, possessive.
“Good start,” Bo whispered into my ear. “Now when you’ve got it, flaunt it.”
Dear Lord, he sounded almost exactly like Smart Sally.
Bo turned me back to face him and, with his hands on my hips, and directly in front of Christian, he shook my butt.
Yep, he did, and I fought hard not to laugh.
“Babe,” he said. “Try to look like you’re turned on by Bo Hunter.”
I did an elaborate show of batting my eyelashes at him.
He grinned. “Stop that, or I’m going to bust out laughing.” Then he directed, “Wrap your arms around my neck.”
I tiptoed up and did as he told. “Now what?”
“I whisper into your ear and drive him mad with wanting to know what we’re talking about.” He buried his face next to the hair by my ear. He inhaled. “Mmm, your hair smells like strawberries,” he said. “That’s the new Crown Beauty shampoo, Strawberries and Cream, isn’t it? That doesn’t release until next spring. How’d you get it?”
“Divina.”
“Figures,” he said. “Tell her I want some.” He moved his face, looked over my shoulder, and then whispered to me again. “Now one more shake—and this time,” he sounded like a movie director, “put some swing into it.”
“Can’t do it without laughing, Bo.”
“Tell you what,” he said. “You give your best impression of a Margarita Girl shake, and I’ll finally tell you my real name.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“Babe, are you kidding?” he said. “I’ll have every guy in the room wishing he were Bo Hunter.”
I didn’t miss the fact that often in conversation, he’d inserted his stage name Bo Hunter, instead of simply say “me.” Sometimes I wondered if Bo Hunter wanted to be Bo Hunter.
Bo could tell I was hesitant. “Just pretend only Christian’s in the room,” he said. “You’ve got him hooked. Now reel him in.”
I sighed. “All right.” I relented. “But I want that name after I’m done.”
“You’ll have that—and your Christian,” he said. “I promise.”
I closed my eyes and focused on the music. It was a song I didn’t recognize, but it had an extended beat. I lifted up my arms and swung my hips to it. I sashayed down towards the floor, bending my knees. When I could go no further, I traversed the same way back up and opened my eyes back up to Bo.
Bo whistled, tugged at his collar, and played the part of a besotted man—well, he was an actor.
When I was almost standing fully back up, I ordered, “Name, please.” I grinned up at him.
A bright light flashed.
Snap.
Dear Lord, someone had taken a picture of me shaking my butt! Oh, if Stanvard could only see me now—about to be once again in the tabloids because the ocean was a free-zone for the paparazzi.
From behind me I heard a commotion. I swiveled and saw Christian seize someone’s cellphone and toss it to the floor. “No pictures.”
Crunch.
Christian then dug his heel into it and smashed it further. He picked up the remnants and put them in his pocket.
Thank you, Christian… you saved me from another tabloid scandal.
But I didn’t voice that aloud. Christian was preoccupied with the guy who’d taken the picture. He flexed his fists like he might punch the guy, but instead Christian yanked him up by the collar and escorted him off the dance floor towards what looked like guards posted at intervals along the wall. They’d blended in so well that I hadn’t even see them there.
“Love it,” Bo said. “Now he’s defending your honor.” He reached for my hand. “Let’s go.” He guided us in the opposite direction off the dance floor. “He’ll come find you.”
“But—”
“That man will search Heaven and earth looking for you,” Bo said. “Trust me.”
Bo headed us for the exit, and we passed near Divina and Michael. Bella was sitting nearby in the corner on a stool with Tessa on her lap. But no Granny. Where was she? Now I was worried.
I had to stop. “Where’s Granny?”
“Darling,” Divina said, “she’s been back and forth, but she said there was a nice man who asked her to dance in the Saints Room.”
“Who is this man?”
Divina shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the Saints Room. She’ll be fine. They’re just dancing.”
Michael cut in. “Don’t I get a dance?”
I didn’t know where Christian was, but I hadn’t just embarrassed myself on the dance floor to blow it all on Christian thinking that I now wanted Michael.
I released Bo’s hand and took Michael’s. “Yes.” I led him towards Bella.
“I didn’t mean with her,” he said, speaking close to my ear. “That woman frustrates me. And why is she wearing that to a black and white only dance?” He referred to the pink of my—or rather hers now—Modern Comeback outfit.
“Get over it.” I rolled my eyes at him.
Honestly, Bella was supermodel beautiful, and she was stunning tonight—what was his problem with her? And why did she keep herself cloistered in a corner with Tessa as a barrier for anyone who’d approach?
No time to figure that out. The more Michael hovered around me, the less chance Christian would come looking for me.
I scooped little Tessa in my arms, and I leaned down to whisper into her ear. “Dance with him, please,” I said. “Huge favor, and I’ll owe you.”
Bella eyed Michael. Something sparked in her eyes for a split-second, and then it was gone. She looked at me, and her mouth opened like she was about to say no.
I tried to give her my best rendition of puppy dog eyes.
“Okay, fine.”
“I’ll take good care of Tessa,” I said, right as Bo clasped my hand again. He headed me out the door, but I didn’t have time to look back to see if Bella and Michael had made it to the dance floor.
I was searching for Christian with my last glance into the ballroom before we exited—and I couldn’t find him.
Out in the hallway, Bo patted my hand. “Don’t worry, he saw us leave,” he said. “Now before I go, I need to tell you something.” He looked around to see if any of the ambling guests could hear us.
He scurried Tessa and me to a corner next to a potted plant taller and wider than he was—so, yep, it was huge. He shielded me with his broad back. I had my butt up against that plant, and one of those plant fronds tried to kiss my lips. He snapped the stem off with two fingers. But the plant jiggled. It probably looked like to anyone who’d seen him tuck me into this corner that I was making out with Bo.
I started laughing, and I couldn’t stop.
“Sass, I’m trying to be serious here.” He had such a concerned look on his face that I sobered up. “Be careful of my brother, Fallon,” he said. “He has a temper when he doesn’t get what he wants. And he wants everything that Michael has. And since Michael wants you….”
“Do you think he’ll hurt me? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
He raised my chin up with one of his fingers. “I can’t see why anyone would want to hurt you. I shouldn’t have even said anything.”
He shrugged off his concerns, and I mentally shook off the image of “loose-jointed” Fallon cracking his knuckles and tweaking his neck.
Bo eased my mind with a reassuring smile. “Fallon will get over it,” he said. “Now go find someplace quiet where Christian can find you.” He petted Tessa’s head and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Babe, my job here is done.”
“You wish,” I said. “Name, please.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
I tapped my boot against the carpet. Even Tessa perked up her ears.
“Pervis,” he murmured.
“Pervis? That’s… um.” I tried not to laugh. “Interesting.”
“Precisely,” he said. “Pervis Madson. Not exactly an action hero name.”
I gave him an awkward hug with Tessa in between us. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“I know,” he said. “Or you wouldn’t be my friend. Now go.”
“What about you?”
“Someone’s waiting on me upstairs,” he said. “I only stayed to help.” He scooted me off. “Now go.”
“I owe you.” I blew back a kiss. “But don’t expect me to be naming my firstborn after you.”
He laughed and headed for the elevators. It was a shame he had to hide whomever was up in his room.
Love should never be hidden…
That’s what Smart Sally’s mom had told her. Yet wasn’t that how it so often was? And when it was hidden, did that still make it some watered-down version of love?
Take how my father and Mom hid their connection with me. Did they really love me?
Take even this night—these masks. If a man admitted that he loved you with a mask on, would he still love you once the mask came off?
I meandered into the Saints Room. The food tables were the biggest draw to this room. Couples buzzed in and out of here for nibbles of food, like they were bees gathering nectar to take back to the Sinners Room.
I traversed the room on the hunt for Granny, and I found no sign of her anywhere. And no sign of Christian. Now what?
Bo had said that Christian had seen me leave the Sinners Room, but he was wrong that Christian would “search Heaven and earth” to find me. He’d only had to travel to the next room, yet he didn’t.
Granny was probably back in the Sinners Room looking for me. I sighed. Would Christian be there, too? Dancing with someone else? In a Naughty Nook?
My head pounded over my heart:
See, I told you that you’d get hurt.
My heart beat over my head:
Well, you shouldn’t have been so stupid to dance with Bo, trying to make him jealous.
My nerves gripped both my head and heart:
Shut up. Just shut up!
I took my free hand and rubbed at one of my temples.
Maybe I’d just drop off Tessa with Granny, head up to my room, and call it a night.
I stalled on my journey back to the Sinners Room. Right now that room was like a dentist’s office to me. I knew I had to go, but I didn’t want to. I ventured over to the tables to find a treat for Tessa.
A woman in an elaborate white mask, with winged feathers poking out the sides, approached me.
“Is that you, Sass?”
I nodded. I recognized the voice and resemblance to Ms. Modesto, Christian’s former nanny and the one who’d made him do that nipple check.
“It’s me, Abigail,” she said. “I couldn’t be sure it was you. Hard to tell who’s anyone with all these masks.”
True, but again, not so hard when you really knew someone beyond their face. I wouldn’t have been sure, either, who she was. For one, her posture wasn’t as ramrod rigid as when I’d met her last time. Although her hazel eyes were as lively and warm as ever.
She placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Are you okay? You seem like something’s bothering you.”
Let’s see. I’d seen Christian choose another woman over me, and I’d let Bo—excuse me, Pervis—talk me into doing a booty-butt dance to try to win him back. No woman should ever have to stoop that low—literally—to try to get a man’s attention.
What the hell was wrong with me? So, no, I was not fine. “Yes, just great.” I smiled, and I probably resembled some politician like Howard, my mom’s boss, who used his smile to deflect journalists from tricky questions.
If Abigail noticed something amiss, she didn’t say. All she said was, “Come, let’s have a chat.” She steered me towards a sofa.
She wore a sparkling, all-white flowing gown, and she positively glowed. This wasn’t the same woman I’d met in the school conference room dressed in all black. Instead, she could’ve been mistaken for an angel. She caught me looking at her dress.
“Yes, I have on a different color other than black. That’s all thanks to you.” She folded her arm around mine. “Doesn’t matter what I wear or do anyway, I’ll never be good enough for Fallon.”
She opened the door into her heart, and I walked through. “How could that possibly be?” Before me stood a woman any man should be proud to stand beside.
We settled onto a sofa, and she told me the story of how she’d become entangled with Fallon. My body sank deep into the soft material of the sofa. My heart sank deeper at the harsh realities of her life. King Rex had used her and cast her off. Fallon had done the same, but at least he supported her because of their son. Although he’d never marry her because she “wasn’t worthy,” due to her past, of being his wife.
Yet here she was, still pining after Fallon.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “When Christian loves someone, he doesn’t hold back. What he went through with his first wife should be proof enough of that.”
“Does Christian still love her?” I blurted out, hoping she also would walk through the door into my heart.
“Ahh.” Her eyes sparkled. “I was right, but Christian didn’t believe me,” she said. “You wouldn’t have asked that unless you love him, not Michael.”
“Dear Lord, yes, only Christian,” I confided, even though it didn’t slip past me that she’d left my question unanswered. “And I’m doing everything wrong trying to show him.”
“That pleases me.” Her lips formed into that cupid’s bow of hers.
“That I’m doing everything wrong?”
“No, no.” She reached her hand over and laid it on my forearm, like a mother would. “You’re doing everything right,” she said. “When you love, you shouldn’t hold back, shouldn’t hide.”
“For all the good it does me.” I sighed. I still hadn’t seen a trace of Christian. And, no, I wasn’t glancing at the door every time someone came in. And if I was, I wouldn’t admit to it.
“Don’t worry, my sweet.” She lifted her hand off my arm and tried to wave away my concern. “I saw the way Christian looked at you the first day I met you.”
But she didn’t see his cold stare in the staff room yesterday either, did she? All over Michael and some purported “hot tongue action.”
I had to know. “What’s between Michael and Christian?” I asked. “It involves his ex-wife, doesn’t it?”
She nodded.
“Michael slept with her?” That was my best guess.
She nodded again. “Christian was so smitten by his ex-wife,” she said. “He adored her, but they didn’t really complement each other. She thrived on the parties and the expensive lifestyle he provided. But Christian also likes to be around kids, to help people, to talk about things other than parties.”
Abigail shook her head. “But still, he loved her. She was warm and affectionate—all the things he didn’t get growing up. And she was charming,” she said. “Given time, she probably would’ve matured into the wife he needed as a powerful businessman.”
“Because of Diamond Corp.?” I asked.
She nodded. “But they married too young. Only nineteen. And against his parents’ wishes,” she said. “He took her with him to Oxford, but she wasn’t interested in going to school like him. And, unfortunately, she also spent a lot of time around Michael, who was also at Oxford.” She shook her head again and grimaced. “After graduation, when his father ordered him to do a six-month stint in the military, I guess she got lonely and turned to Michael.”
“Where is she now?” I had to know.
“After the divorce, she was in a car accident and…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t need to explain further. “But, before that happened, he was seeing her again
, in secret, because his family would’ve never approved after the scandal she’d caused.”
“Do you think they would’ve eventually remarried?” That was hard for me to ask.
“I think so,” she admitted.
It was even harder to hear the answer.
“He shared with me that despite everything,” she said, “he loved her and wanted her back. That she wanted to be a good wife and begged him to let her show him. He was crushed when she died.” She stared off into the distance. “She was so very lovely—one of those Margarita Girls.”
A Margarita Girl?
Oh, Christian, I’m sorry you lost the woman you loved.
A knot formed at the base of my neck and started to braid itself up my head. But where did I fit into this?
“I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” Abigail patted my leg, and then we both stood. “Don’t worry, my sweet, you’re so much lovelier—not just on the outside, but on the inside, too.”
She hugged me with all her strength and released me. “Christian has so much love inside of him bottled up. He only needed the right woman to fully unleash it. You’re perfect for him.”
She might think that, but what did Christian think? I’d had not one sighting of Christian.
Okay, yes, I had been looking at the door whenever anyone had come in this whole time.
There. I admitted it.
And I also had to admit that from what I could tell, both Bo and Abigail had it wrong—Christian wasn’t that interested in me.
Divina had it wrong, too. He wouldn’t run from a tall brunette because she would remind him of his ex-wife. He loved his ex-wife, and they’d probably have remarried if not for that car accident.
That knot at the base of my neck also braided down to my stomach. I couldn’t eat a bite, but after I left Abigail, I wandered to the food tables for that treat for Tessa. I chose a slice of white meat for her, and she gobbled up half and dropped the other half on the floor.
I bent down to pick it up, but stopped midway when I heard a “pop.” Another button missing? Wouldn’t be the first time. I stood up and checked my blouse—everything checked out fine.
“Need some help, little lady?”
A whiskey-and-cigar voice, like from one of those old black and white movies, startled me from behind. I stood fully upright and turned.