by Abby Green
The accompanying article had pointed out that they’d all suffered adverse press in recent months and speculation was rife as to why they were suddenly joining forces.
And that was when Lia knew she’d made a huge tactical error in showing Benjamin Carter such obvious antipathy. He was not becoming bosom buddies with his old enemies for no reason, nor asking her for a date for the good of his health—not when he could date any number of more beautiful and accessible women.
He was definitely up to something.
Curiously reluctant to leave her search there, though, she’d also learnt that he was a self-made legend who’d come from the most adverse of backgrounds, growing up in foster homes in Queens before working his way up through the construction hierarchy on sites all over New York. That had reminded her disturbingly of that air of something untamed about him in spite of his suave appearance.
Within just a decade he’d risen to the top of the industry—literally. His company was currently responsible for constructing what would become the tallest skyscraper in Manhattan.
He was ruthless and single-minded, and women only featured in his workaholic life as very momentary diversions—as brutally evidenced by a recent ‘kiss and tell’ Lia had found during the online search. Usually she abhorred gossip, but she’d found herself avidly reading about the way his ruthlessness extended beyond the bedroom once he was tired with seduction and conquest—which seemed to happen after only one or two dates at the most.
Yet that information hadn’t stopped Lia having a very illicit and dangerously wistful daydream that when she’d bumped into him in the street perhaps Benjamin Carter might have been just a random gorgeous stranger. Because for the first time since the humiliating aftermath of her broken engagement, a year before, she realised that a man had managed to break through the high wall she’d built around herself.
Lia quickly shut down that evocative image. So, she’d reacted to him? All that proved was that she was as dismayingly susceptible to his charms as the next woman. In spite of her frigidity. Benjamin Carter’s particular brand of virile masculinity was obviously potent enough to break through the thickest ice.
She glared balefully now at the extravagant vase of flowers on the antique side table, set there by a conscientious staff member. The accompanying note lay torn up in the bin, but she didn’t need to take it out to reread the arrogant slashing handwriting. She’d memorised it all too easily and annoyingly.
Till we meet again, Julianna. Ben.
The fact that he knew where she was staying caused little surprise. It wasn’t as if she was using an alias, and a man like Benjamin Carter would have minions aplenty to do his dirty work.
She’d almost been tempted to call Elizabeth Young again, to tell her to reinforce the message that she had no interest in him, but she’d realised she was being ridiculous. As rough as Benjamin Carter’s edges might be, she couldn’t see him stooping so low as to actually chase a woman. And in a few days Lia would be gone—safely back on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.
She turned her attention to her reflection again and took a deep breath, picking up an elaborately feathered black lace mask and fitting it to her face. She was relieved the charity auction had a masquerade theme, because she was feeling exposed enough as it was.
Firmly pushing disturbing memories back down where they belonged, along with thoughts of dark, handsome, annoying men, Lia gathered her things and left her suite.
* * *
Less than an hour later Lia had to stop herself from pulling the bodice of her dress up higher. She knew she was being silly, because there were women there in far more revealing dresses, but if one more man nearly tripped over his own tongue as he drooled at her chest she was going to scream.
Just then the three men who had been making more eye contact with her chest than her face seemed to melt back into the throng, and she sucked in a deep sigh of relief.
She turned away to look for a waiter and get a drink and found herself being jostled from behind. She was pitching forward helplessly into thin air when two hands caught her and stopped her fall. She looked up, heart hammering, to see a man—a very tall man, with broad shoulders. He was dressed in a white tuxedo jacket, white shirt and black bow tie.
His face, like most of the crowd’s, was obscured by a mask. Except his was more ornate and covered his whole face. She could see thick dark hair... For a heart-stopping moment Lia almost suspected— But then she told herself she was being ridiculous if she was letting Benjamin Carter get to her so much that she suspected this man could be him, when it was far more likely to be a stranger.
The man spoke, his voice slightly distorted under the mask. ‘Are you all right?’
Something inside Lia relaxed when she realised she didn’t immediately recognise the voice. His hands felt hot on the bare skin of her upper arms and she realised he was still holding on to her. Feeling flustered, she took a step back. ‘I’m fine, thank you... Sorry. I was just looking for a waiter to get a drink.’
‘Let me.’
As if by magic a waiter appeared by his side and the man handed her a glass of Champagne. She noticed that he didn’t take a drink. She sipped at the cool sparkling wine and felt some equilibrium return. Lia assured herself that if this was Benjamin Carter alarm bells would be ringing loudly.
She pushed all thoughts of that man aside and observed, ‘You’re not drinking?’
He shook his head. ‘I like to keep my wits about me—and my mask isn’t exactly conducive to drinking. I’d have to reveal my identity, which would defeat the object of the evening.’
His voice was cool, sardonic. And deep.
Something skated over Lia’s skin. Excitement. She couldn’t see his eyes, they were obscured, so she didn’t know what colour they were. The realisation that she didn’t even know where his eyes rested on her, or if he liked what he saw, made her skin heat with awareness. Before, she’d felt exposed, violated. Now she felt...aware of herself in a way that was very unlike her.
She almost had to suppress a slightly hysterical urge to giggle—maybe there was something in the water here in New York that was having an adverse effect on her?
‘You could have chosen a less restrictive mask,’ she pointed out to the stranger.
‘I could have,’ he agreed, leaving the words But I didn’t hanging silently between them.
Bizarrely, she got the distinct impression that this stranger would bend for no one. A crazy thought to have about someone she’d only met for mere seconds. Someone whose face she couldn’t even see. And crazy that it should send another shiver of excitement down her spine.
A hum of electricity infused her blood. Yesterday evening, when Benjamin Carter had precipitated similar sensations, she’d escaped as fast as she could. And now she was feeling all those things again. It was almost a relief—proof that his effect on her wasn’t exclusive.
The crowd seemed to be pressing in around them, pushing them closer together. Heat prickled over Lia’s skin in earnest now. A little panicked by her strong reactions, she said, ‘It’s getting claustrophobic in here, don’t you think?’
‘Would you like to get some air?’
Lia nodded, heart hammering. He expertly divested her of her half-empty glass and put a hand under her elbow. She found herself trying to assess if his palms were smooth or callused, but the crowd was jostling them too much. Then he was opening the French doors and leading her outside. It was late autumn, not quite yet winter, and the air was fresh. She moved away from him and gulped in deep breaths, her head feeling light. She put it down to the sparkling wine and the sudden rush of oxygen.
She went and put her hands on the stone wall, aware of the man coming to stand beside her, but keeping a distance that she appreciated. The lights of Manhattan sparkled around them, and Central Park was a dark shadow in the distance. There was silence between them for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. This unexpected encounter was taking on an unreal quality.
‘
I could never get tired of this view even if I lived here,’ Lia said.
The man turned towards her. ‘Where do you live?’
She glanced at him, finding the mask disconcerting but also a little...thrilling. Not knowing who she was speaking to was freeing, in some way. As if the normal social niceties could be ignored. The sheer breadth of his chest under his shirt made her hands itch. She felt very feminine next to his tall, broad body.
‘I live just outside London, in Richmond.’
The man made an appreciative sound.
Lia smiled. ‘You know it?’
She heard an answering smile in his voice. ‘It’s a nice place. Expensive.’
Lia commented dryly, ‘The tickets for this event start at a cool six thousand dollars, so I’m guessing that you’re no stranger to the more salubrious end of the property scale.’
Now he shrugged lightly. ‘I can’t deny that.’
Lia thought she saw the glitter of light eyes behind the mask and her heart beat a little faster. This felt risky...dangerous. But still thrilling.
She had never felt comfortable flirting, not having had her mother to guide her. She’d been so young when her mother had left them, and the all-girls weekly boarding school she’d attended hadn’t done much to help her grow more comfortable around boys and men.
But at least by the time she’d left school the acute shyness that had blighted her earlier years had been largely a thing of the past. Although even now that awkward stuttering girl still lurked deep within Lia, reminding her of the fact that a lot of what she projected was an elaborate act.
It was an act so effective that her ex-fiancé had been incredulous to discover that she was a virgin when they’d had sex for the first time, which had only added to the mortification she’d felt when the experience had proved to be painful and generally underwhelming.
But now she felt confident, and a little reckless. ‘So, is your role tonight to be as enigmatic and unrecognisable as possible?’
‘Is it working?’
His tone was light, but Lia could sense an edge. It added to the air of illicit danger and excitement.
‘Well, you’ve got the unrecognisable part down to a T.’
‘Ouch,’ he said softly. ‘Clearly I have to work on being an enigma.’
Once again Lia had the distinct impression that being enigmatic came all too easily to this stranger. And he knew it. Even without seeing his face she could sense his sheer command and charisma. He was somebody.
She felt even more reckless as she said, ‘Are we going to exchange names?’
‘Do you want to?’
Lia nodded, and then shivered lightly. It was as if she could feel his gaze on her now, even though she couldn’t see his eyes. It was like a caress across her skin.
Obviously misreading her shiver, he took off his jacket and settled it around her shoulders before she could protest. The heat from his body felt absurdly intimate, and she was acutely aware of his fingers brushing the bare skin of her shoulders.
Was it her imagination, or had they lingered a moment? ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was husky.
He was closer now—close enough that she could see his stubbled jaw under the mask. It looked strong, defined. His scent was masculine, woody and musky.
To her surprise she felt her lower body clench in reaction, and a rush of damp heat between her legs. That very physical reaction sent a dose of reality rushing back. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t a usual state for her to be in... For a second she wondered what had changed inside her. How could she be reacting so wantonly to two men in the space of two nights?
The stranger cut into her thoughts with his deep voice. ‘Are you sure you want to exchange names?’
Lia wasn’t so sure now. That slap of reality had reminded her that she was out of her depth here. But she wasn’t ready to burst this sensual bubble yet. She was pretending to be something she wasn’t—confident. Experienced.
Feeling absurdly regretful, she said, ‘I’m not sure if I do...but we can’t hide for ever...’
She heard the smile in his voice again. ‘It’s tempting, though, isn’t it?’
She nodded, feeling something melting inside her at the sense of kinship she felt. She desperately wanted to keep pretending to be someone else for another small moment, and helplessly she found her feet moving closer.
He seemed to reach for her at the same time, and his hands cupped her jaw, thumbs caressing her cheeks. ‘You’re exquisite—do you know that?’
Lia shook her head, embarrassed. She knew without false modesty that she was pleasant enough to look at, but she’d never felt truly beautiful. She looked at women sometimes and saw that they owned their innate sensuality in such a way that she envied them. And it had nothing to do with being the perfect size or having a pretty face.
But right now...even though half her face was obscured by a mask...she felt an inkling of it. For the first time. Her mouth tingled and she imagined his gaze on her there. Her lips parted and his hands tightened on her face. An urgency seemed to infuse the air around them...the atmosphere grew thick and heavy.
Excitement rushed through her. Lia reached up one hand, to touch his mask. Her heart thumping so hard she wondered if he could hear it, she started pushing it up, desperately wanting to see him, wanting his mouth to touch hers.
She caught a glimpse of his lower lip and then one hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. His voice sounded rough. ‘You might not like what you see.’
Lia shook her head. She knew, just knew that she needed to see who he was more than she needed to draw breath. She pulled her hand free and was about to tip his mask up again when a voice broke through the thick tension.
‘Lia! There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I’m having a total crisis—you have to help me.’
The mood snapped instantly. The man stepped back and Lia’s hand dropped to her side. Her heart was racing as if they had just kissed, and she realised she was trembling.
She tore her eyes away from that impassive mask that hid so much and she wanted to shout her frustration. She could see now that the person interrupting them was the charity auction event manager—an English ex-pat called Sarah, who had become a friend of sorts. They met whenever Lia came to New York.
‘What’s wrong, Sarah?’ Lia was relieved that her voice sounded calmer than she felt.
The attractive blonde woman looked panicked. ‘Stacy Somers, the supermodel, was supposed to be here for the charity auction, which is due to start in ten minutes. The deal was that she’d auction a kiss, and now we’re stuck.’
Lia’s eyes widened at her friend’s expressive look, and she spluttered, ‘But...but you can’t mean for me to fill in?’ All her old insecurities flooded back. ‘I’m hardly supermodel-replacement material—and hardly anyone here even knows me!’
Her friend’s eyes were wild and panicked. ‘Please, Lia. You look amazing tonight, and no one will care who you are. It’s for charity, and it’s a fun item, and it’s in the auction brochure and my boss is going crazy at the thought of the schedule getting messed up...’
Lia felt cornered. Just the thought of everyone staring at her made her skin break out in a cold sweat.
And then a deep voice from beside her said, ‘I’d pay for a kiss from you.’
She looked up at the man—she’d almost forgotten he was there in her moment of panic. And now she felt hot all over. At the thought of his eyes on her. At the thought of him claiming her in front of everyone. Lord. New York was warping her brain completely.
‘I’m sorry, but who are you?’
The question came from Sarah, and Lia’s attention snapped to her suddenly very curious-looking friend. The thought of him revealing who he was here and now threatened to burst the intimate bubble that had cocooned them.
Lia made a split-second decision and said, ‘I’ll do it.’
Her friend looked at her and her relief was palpable. Lia shrugged off the jacket and handed
it back to the stranger. Their hands touched and she felt a zing of electricity. She felt jittery, as she had last night. Had she just sent him a challenge? Would he bid for a kiss and reveal himself?
Before she could think about it any further Sarah was taking her by the arm and all but hauling her back into the thronged room, gabbling about what she needed Lia to do. Lia barely heard a word.
She glanced back once before she was sucked into the crowd, but when she did the patio was empty and she wondered for a crazy, panicky moment if she’d just dreamed up the whole encounter with the enigmatic stranger. And, if she’d ever see him again.
* * *
‘Now, who is going to start the bidding for a kiss with our lovely English rose, Julianna Ford?’ said the smooth-voiced auctioneer behind the tall lectern.
Benjamin stood at the side of the room with his arms folded and his hands tucked under his arms. Because he was afraid he might reach out and throttle anyone who dared to attempt to kiss the woman standing on the dais, situated in the centre of the vast room.
She looked far too enticing with her hair pulled back, exposing her long neck, but also strangely vulnerable. He would have thought that someone from her background and particular social scene would be accustomed to showing off in such a manner. She’d certainly shown an authoritative side when they’d met the previous evening.
And yet he recalled her wide-eyed look of shock just after they’d collided. The way colour had washed into her cheeks. Most women he knew would have made the most of such an encounter, but she’d appeared slightly awkward. Unsettled.
She wore an elaborate black lace mask over the top half of her face and it only enhanced her beauty, making her look mysterious. But even the mask couldn’t hide the brilliant blue of her eyes. Or that enticing mouth.
He could sense other men’s interest and a surge of something completely alien rushed up inside him. It took him a moment to recognise that it was possessiveness, because he’d never felt it before for a woman.
Mine. The word thrummed through Ben’s blood, just as a voice near the front shouted out, ‘Five thousand dollars!’