Heart's Masquerade

by Tressie Lockwood

  “A better idea would be to set Torrian up with my Karen,” Olivia suggested. “The two would make a fabulous couple.”

  “You mean their bank accounts.”

  The two ladies cackled, and Jaz moved out of earshot. This was how they were, she thought. Torrian was playing with her, bored probably and having a little fun. He came on the microphone, answering questions. She was struck with the sound of his voice. The timbre stirred sensations in her she wished were long dead by now, but there was something else, too.

  From her distance, she tried to see his face clearly but couldn't make it out. He sounded subdued, soft-spoken. The confidence and intelligence she had come to recognize was still there, but she began to recall the laughter, the teasing, the light in his eyes. She had missed him more than she realized.

  “Mama, would you stop it?” one young woman was saying. “I’m not going to chase after Torrian Donnelly because you want his money. We’ve got enough of our own. Besides, tonight isn’t about you getting more. It’s about giving to people who need it.”

  Jaz was impressed with the young woman. So they weren’t all bad.

  “Honestly, darling, do you even know what we do here each year?” the older woman answered.

  “No,” the daughter shot back, “I’ve been away at school, and I think maybe I need to go back.”

  Jaz choked on a sip of champagne in her amusement and moved along. The pompous statements continued in the crowd, and the entreaties to give more were sent out over the microphone. After Torrian’s initial greeting, he stood to the side up there and said nothing. Rather, he watched the crowd. Jaz kept herself hidden until the giving portion of the night ended. Surprise washed over her when the music changed and heightened. Couples took the center of the floor and began to dance. First something way before Jaz’s time, and then the young people seemed to have hijacked the music and the floor. She chuckled when someone convinced the live band to play the “Monster Mash.”

  A collective murmur washed through the crowd. Jaz knew without looking Torrian had left the stage. She tried seeing over heads, but even with his height, she couldn’t glimpse him. Being from the rougher side of town, she elbowed her way past a few folk, and then she saw him. Beautiful women crowded around him, all shapes, sizes, ages, even ethnicities from the look of it. They teased him with their false lashes behind masks, half-naked breasts, and possibly their money since a couple raised their voices to inform him of their names as if he should recognize them.

  Torrian unbent enough to dance with the young woman who had told her mother she wouldn’t marry him for his money. A stab of possessiveness stirred in Jaz’s belly. Shouldn’t she just leave? “Darling” was from his world. She fit right in, and even if she protested, the girl couldn’t miss Torrian’s sexiness.

  No, freaking way. I took a taxi all the way over here. The least I can do is take a chance.

  She decided to show herself, but before she could get past another clamoring woman, the music changed. A biddy must have wrestled control back for her generation. Smooth tones washed over Jaz, a slow, sensual beat. Anyone dancing with Torrian this time had a good chance of having him hold her closer.

  There were still too many of them. Time to break through. She drew in a deep breath and blew it out then took a step forward. Unfortunately, she managed to step on the end of one woman’s dress. The woman seemed to have shifted at the same time, and when she did, Jaz felt the unmistakable vibration of a tear.

  With dramatic flare, the woman screamed. “You clod! You did that on purpose.”

  Jaz stepped back and opened her mouth to apologize, but she couldn’t help looking over the woman’s shoulder to Torrian. To her shock, he had noticed her.

  “Do you hear me?” the angry woman said. “What are you looking at?” She spun and fell silent as Torrian brushed aside each person in his path between Jaz, the woman, and himself. The woman’s countenance transformed. She gathered the ends of her ugly dress. Practically simpering now, she parted pink, glossy lips. “Torrian, I’ve been hoping to dance with you. How do you like my dress? I had it specially made for this evening’s event.”

  “It’s nice,” Torrian said when he reached them, but his gaze didn’t leave Jaz’s face. He extended his hand to her, and the woman squealed in alarm as did a collective gasp rose all over the area.

  Jaz laid her hand in Torrian’s palm, and he closed his fingers over hers. He drew her close until her breasts brushed his chest. His hand came around to her back and flattened on her bare skin. A shiver raced up her spine as Torrian began moving to the melody.

  Maybe he thought she was someone else.

  “Jazara,” he whispered, reading her mind.

  “Who the hell is she?” someone growled close by.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” another said.

  Jaz laid her head on Torrian’s shoulder and shut her eyes. She trusted him to lead while her mind whirled, and her senses careened out of control. They danced and danced. She wasn’t sure if the music played for them, or if it had shifted to something wholly out of beat. All she knew was Torrian and his touch. Oh yes, Lord, and his scent! She breathed him in and felt his strength beneath her fingertips.

  Maybe the music stopped or Torrian just decided to quit moving. He kept her before him and captured her face between his palms. Then he raised the mask to hook toward the back of her head on its elastic. He stared into her eyes and lowered his head to kiss her. Jaz didn’t think about it. Her head tilted back, and her lips parted. He kissed her deeply, consuming her, setting her body on fire. When he raised his head again, she thought she cried out no in her head, but he smiled, leading her to think she’d blurted it aloud.

  “Come on.” He led her to a door, opened it, and allowed her to walk ahead of him to an outside verandah. Jaz wrapped her arms around herself as soon as she stepped through the doorway, and Torrian whipped off his jacket to lie over her shoulders. A waiter appeared out of nowhere, and Torrian whispered something to him. When Torrian focused on her again, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say, but her ex-lover had no such issues. “I missed you, and I’m glad you’re here.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You knew I was coming?”

  “No, but I can guess how it happened. Niles?”

  “Yes, and he’s your driver?”

  “He’s always been outspoken and does what he wants. I don’t have a lot of genuine people around me, so I don’t chastise him much for it.”

  “I saw,” she said, referring to the partygoers inside. “They’re all so catty. I mean not that it’s just the rich that are like that, but it still threw me for a loop. I didn’t know if I should stay and try to talk to you or not.”

  They had been strolling along the veranda hand in hand, but when she spoke, he stopped walking and turned her to face him. His hands on her cheeks warmed her, and he kissed her again.

  “If you had come and gone without me seeing you, it would have killed me.”

  She blinked at him. He’d never been so open about his feelings, and she wasn’t sure how to take it.

  “You know I love you, don’t you, Jazara?”

  Okay, they’d gone from zero to sixty in a millisecond. “What?”

  “I love you,” he repeated. “I’m not letting you leave without saying it to you. You’re going to understand how I feel with no one getting in the way this time, no reporters, friends, or family. No one.”

  Jaz spun out of his hold and walked to the railing that separated them from the garden. The area was beautiful, lit from lampposts and the moon. She imagined the landscaping would be even more impressive in spring and summer.

  “Tell me about you,” she said, knowing he had followed.

  “What I’ve told you before is all true,” he began. “After my godfather, Lochlan O’Brien if you didn’t hear earlier, took me in, I attended private school, received tutoring for where my public education left me behind my classmates, and I eventually attended university.”


  “All paid for?”

  He pressed his lips together, and she rushed to apologize.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like you were wrong somehow for receiving help. That’s not how I view the world. I don’t resent anyone who has or was born with more. We deal with what we were given and take joy and success with our own efforts.”

  Torrian sighed. “I was given the opportunity to do better in life with much less effort than a lot of people, and I know this sounds like empty words, but for a long time, I would have given anything to trade it all for one day—”

  He was silent. Jaz curled into his side. She’d seen this in Torrian from the start, his intense sadness and pain. Part of the reason she had reached out to him was because of it, in addition to her attraction to the man. Torrian might have indicated he didn’t feel the same as he did when he was a teen, but she’d bet her last dollar he did. Maybe now, he was more accepting. That was all.

  “Lochlan was never around—ever. He made his money and his connections available, and ensured I took advantage of them. Nothing more.”

  Her heart broke. “You would have loved a regular family life, a mother who hugged you and told you she loved you when you came home from school.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe not every day.”

  She grinned. “I’m sorry, Torrian. Do you hate this? Do you hate those people in there?”

  “I don’t hate them.”

  “You didn’t answer my first question.”

  His hand slipped beneath his jacket on her, and he flattened it on her back, a thumb gently stroking her skin. The waiter appeared with two glasses of wine and a coat tossed across his forearm. Torrian straightened, took the coat first, and laid it about her shoulders. Then he took the glasses, thanking the man.

  “This will warm you,” he said.

  She thanked him and sipped her drink. The alcohol did warm her insides, and the coat took away more of the chill. Torrian gathered her into his arms again, and she rested her head on his chest.

  “I despise this life,” he admitted. “Coming here every year. I’m good at what I do. My company thrives, but it’s never satisfied me. No matter how much time has passed, I feel like the boy from South Boston. However, each time I go back there, I’m reminded I don’t belong.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  Torrian frowned down at her, and she stepped away to look at him. “Torrian, the only people that told you you don’t belong are you and Kenny. We already know he’s envious as hell of you, so that makes his opinion moot.”

  “As for me?”

  She pointed a finger at him. “You decide where you belong. Are you spoiled with the money you make that you can’t let go of your business? I know it’s different than going to school for teaching and discovering you don’t have the patience for other people’s kids.”

  He agreed. “There are literally hundreds of people who depend on me for their livelihood.”

  “So you should be miserable?”

  “No, I don’t believe that.”

  “What about this shindig? At least one old lady in there would love to have her name at the top of the list instead of your godfather’s. Does he have something over your head?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then you feel like you owe him.”

  He drained his glass and set it on the railing, then pushed his hands into his pockets. “I suppose I do, but I wouldn’t stay here if I had thought through an alternative. Before I met you, I hadn’t come up with anything I wanted more. Lochlan may have saved me from some bad choices.”

  “Here’s how I see it,” she said and laced her fingers with his. “People always say I owe you my life. I owe you my life. Nothing another person can do for you is worth the same as your life. Nothing. You can be thankful and loving toward them. You can do them favors, but you can’t give them your life because they haven’t given you theirs.”

  He smirked. “You have a very interesting perspective.”

  She shrugged. “It’s my opinion. Take it or leave it, but think. How much did it hurt Lochlan to share his wealth with you? He hired others to take care of you. He doesn’t visit. He wasn’t inconvenienced at all. Why do you think he’s not at this fun little party?”

  Torrian threw back his head and burst out laughing. Her heart soared seeing that smile. He had shared many during the times they spent together, and she began to believe it was why Torrian had kept her secret from this side of his life. Her and him in her tiny apartment, cooking and laughing together, this was the real him and where he belonged.

  A sharp wind blew against her legs, and she shivered, trying to adjust the coat. Torrian frowned and reached out to help. “Come on. We need to get you inside. The jacket and coat are crushing your pretty wings.”

  “Don’t make me go back in there. I think we should go home.”

  An arrested expression came over his face at her chosen words, which was just what she had intended to say. “Home?”

  “Yup. The place is a little small for two people, but if you still don’t know what you want to do with the company, you can always commute. I probably wouldn’t park the limo or the BMW on the street, but that’s just me.”

  She started to walk off, but he caught her and drew her back to him. The impact of his pull drove the air from her chest, and she fell silent. Torrian smirked at her. “Are you asking me to move in with you, Jazara Crane?”

  “Well…” She lowered her gaze from his eyes to his yummy lips. “I’m saying I love you.”

  A growl escaped him, but he didn’t kiss her. He pressed a chilly cheek to hers and squeezed her tight for a long while. She wondered if emotion overcame him as it had for her when he spoke the words. Men might be different, but she could guess he never expected to hear it. Not after she hadn’t called for so long. Gratitude to Niles washed over her. Everyone should have people like him working for and with them.

  “Yes,” Torrian said after some time. “The happiest time of my entire existence was spent with you in that box.”

  “Hey!” She pretended to be insulted, and they both laughed.

  “I won’t give up the company, but I will work with the board to hire another CEO. That will free me considerably. Also, we’ll sell the mansion and get something bigger than what you have now but smaller than my house.”

  She blinked at him. “Mansion?”

  “We’ll need room for the kids.”

  “Whoa, what?”

  Torrian’s face radiated joy. “The kids, baby, because before the end of the year, my new goal is to convince you to be my wife!”

  Epilogue

  Eight years later…

  “Tor,” Jaz shouted. “Are you kidding me? How many times did I ask you to get this train set out of the hall? Torrian Donnelly, Jr., don’t make me come find you!”

  Her seven-year-old poked his head out the doorway of the front room. “Sorry, Mommy.”

  She glared at him. He looked just like his daddy, which had caused her to spoil his behind rotten. “Don’t, ‘Sorry, Mommy’ me. You know I can’t see past this belly, and I certainly can’t catch myself if I go down.”

  Her son’s green eyes widened, filling with fear. He darted forward and scrambled to pick up the train set. Twin three-year-olds, Faith and Hope, both silent, rushed into the hall to help Tor. The girls had been with them a year now, adopted, and they were still all getting used to each other. Jaz loved her daughters from the moment she met them and wouldn’t give them up for anything. Their parents had been killed in a plane crash, and having no other family that wanted them, they had become wards of the state. Now they were Donnellys, and Jaz and Torrian had vowed to show them all the love in the world. Of course, Torrian had a good start on his own goal of having five kids, the bum. Before she knew what happened, he’d knocked her up with a baby when a little over six years had gone past without a second birth. She was due in two months and wondered how on earth she would survive.

  A key sounded
in the door, and Tor dropped all the trains he held. His sisters followed suit, and the herd jetted toward the front door just as Torrian opened it. A chorus of, “Daddy!” rose, and Jaz sighed. She watched with fondness as her brood threw themselves into Torrian’s open arms. Love and happiness reflected in his expression as he kissed and hugged them.

  “Yes, I brought presents.” Torrian laughed in response to their questions. He’d been gone five days on business. Lochlan O’Brien had passed and left everything he owned to Torrian. Now her husband had to sort through estates in three countries where Lochlan had lived and done business. Torrian met her gaze, and her heart sped up even after all this time. She’d missed him. He threaded his way through the tiny bodies blocking his path, then frowned. “What’s this? Toys in the hall? I can’t give out presents to naughty kids.”

  Jaz rolled her eyes. “Boy, please, don’t act like you’re the disciplinarian around here. You bring them gifts even when you’re gone two hours.”

  Amusement lit Torrian’s gaze, and he grabbed his shirtfront in mock horror. “Mommy, how can you say that?”

  “Daddy.” Hope tugged his pants leg, and Torrian looked down. Jaz saw him melt as he scooped the little girl into his arms. That led to more cries for attention, and Jaz spun away to return to the room where she’d been working on folding a load of laundry. Besides, she couldn’t remember why she had risen from the couch in the first place. Oh yeah, the bathroom.

  The facilities visited, Jaz stood in the bathroom drying her hands and peering into the mirror at her face. She shouldn’t be having a baby this old. Creases she refused to call wrinkles had formed in the corners of her eyes, and even her small breasts had begun to sag after her son was born. She hadn’t lost all the weight from the first pregnancy, and things were beginning to ache in places they hadn’t done so before. Meanwhile, Torrian was still sexy as hell except for a tad bit of softness to his solid muscles and gray at his temples. She groaned, not liking where her thoughts went lately.

  “You didn’t kiss me or say hello.” His arms came around her middle from behind. Well, as much as they could with a huge belly. A sense of comfort washed over her as he stroked the swollen expanse. “I suppose my beautiful wife didn’t miss me?”