Gabriel reached out a hand to the older gentleman. “So, you're in investment?"
"Not securities,” Martin corrected, “elite security. Alarm and surveillance, security guards and discrete body protection. It's a dangerous world out there. I help make it a little safer."
"For the right price,” Michael poked.
"But of course.” Martin didn't look ashamed.
Michael held the chair next to him for Lydia and then sat himself. Lindy felt his fingers barely brush her arm, but when she glanced at him, he was paying her no attention. While she understood it, she found she didn't like it very much.
As the others seated themselves, Lindy took the opportunity to take in the décor. The lighting in the room was muted, the bulk of it coming from the plethora of candles adorning each table. The tables were spread in cloths of burgundy, orange and red with elaborate centerpieces emphasizing gourds, pumpkins, pomegranates, apples and chrysanthemums, all to emphasize the party's theme.
Once everyone was seated, a cadre of servers came out to deliver the first course to each guest, which consisted of three toasted rounds topped with warm goat cheese, rosemary, walnuts and honey as well as three small clams on the half shell, grilled and redolent of ginger.
Lindy was just lifting the first warm shell to her mouth when she heard Lydia ask, “So what kind of a name is Rogue?"
"A nickname, actually,” he replied in all seriousness. “I have a reputation for stealing things. Juries, promotions. Wives."
Lindy quickly set the clam down and covered her mouth with her napkin to hide her amusement. She dared a peek at him out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed to be paying her no attention.
Until she felt the tip of his shoe caress up and down the back of her ankle.
She picked up the small appetizer again and slipped her foot out of her pump to return his gesture as he continued his conversation with the other woman.
"It's all specious. I've never taken anything I didn't rightly earn. Anyone who says otherwise is just jealous,” he went on, pushing back lightly against Lindy's tiny foot. “Especially the husbands."
Lindy shifted her attention back to her plate and to Gabriel and his conversation on the other side of the table. But her body stayed very aware of Michael. The scent of him reached her even over the rich aroma of the food, his warmth reaching out to her over the space between them.
Their feet danced a slow, intricate pattern beneath the veil of the tablecloth. Through the appetizers, the crab bisque, and the pomegranate, beet and blood orange salad, her bare toes toyed with the hem of his trousers, stroking up along his ankle as far as she could without being obvious. Whenever she would stop, within moments she would feel the hard leather of his shoe hook around her ankle to draw her back. The part of her mind he had been nurturing over the past two weeks was disappointed that their seating arrangement didn't allow her to do more. She could think of another part of his anatomy she'd rather be rubbing ... She blushed and applied herself to the sweet salad.
Finally during the vegetable course, he turned to speak to her directly. “When we met yesterday, you were on your way to your studio. Did you have a productive afternoon?"
"I did, thank you.” She swallowed a morsel of food before continuing. “I started with a new model this week and was anxious to start working on some preliminary sketches. I ended up with the beginnings of three new paintings."
"Are they any good?” he asked in all seriousness.
"I think he'll be satisfied with them."
He smiled knowingly, then turned his attention back to his plate.
This was a bit surreal, talking to Michael about himself as though he were a third person, as if this man sitting next to her hadn't laid naked and vulnerable on her rugs and let her see into his heart.
The servers were clearing away plates in preparation for the next course before he spoke to her again.
"Do you spend a lot of time in your studio?"
She lost track of his words as his fingers trailed daringly along the outside of her thigh, hidden from view between their bodies and the table.
She drew a deep breath and forced herself to speak. “More so lately. I've had a lot of inspiration recently."
"You've found your muse?” His face remained neutral, but she was very familiar with the playfulness of his tone.
"Oh yes. My muse has been very attentive."
His voice dropped to a low rumble. “It's not attention. It's obsession."
Her body responded instantly, and she had to fight down a moan of encouragement. But he knew how to read her and quirked a wicked grin at her.
She was rescued by the arrival of the next course and a shift in conversation around the table. She threw him a look that she hoped offered threat of retaliation and not of surrender.
But his words had awoken the brazen side of her, and she began looking for ways to tease and arouse him without giving them away. She dropped her napkin on the floor and brushed his thigh with her breast. She started up a conversation with Lydia so she could lean over closer to him. She saw his nostrils flare in reaction to her proximity, and was sorely tempted to lay her hand in his lap. But she refrained.
He didn't hesitate to play back. He grazed his knuckles against her arm when he gestured as he talked, and then laid his warm hand on hers to apologize. Another time he asked Gabriel a question, leaning back to see him behind Lindy's head while resting his hand on the back of her chair. When the men finished talking and Gabriel turned away, Michael stroked the roughened pad of his thumb along the sensitive place between her shoulder blades where he enjoyed kissing her during sex. She shivered and pulled away, making him chuckle.
This was when she felt the most vulnerable, when she was the attention of both men. She was sure she was going to say or do something or make Michael do something that would give them away. So at those times, she focused on the meal in front of her to the exclusion of all else.
When dessert arrived, she stared in wonder at the offerings, her fork poised over the plate. There, between the cherry and pear tartlet and the apple almond cheesecake was a long, narrow slice of moist, dark chocolate cake drizzled in thick ganache. It looked like sin. Their original sin. Her heart started hammering just looking at it.
She was about to cut into it when she felt Michael's arm rest along the back of her chair. “I swear to god,” he murmured matter of factly near her ear, “If you start sucking off that fork, I will drag you out of here by the hair to fuck you raw in the elevator, and I don't give a bloody god damn who sees us. Do you understand?"
She nodded imperceptibly.
"Good girl."
She left the cake untouched on her plate.
As the coffee and brandies were distributed, Henry Masters rose from his place at the head table and began to speak.
"Friends, I am so glad you could all be here tonight to reap the rewards of the past year. We've all worked hard, and the seeds we have planted have grown to fruition, making our firm and our clients stronger and more secure than ever before."
Lindy zoned out the speech, allowing her gaze to drift around the room. She noticed Kathleen several tables away, could see the brunette was watching her with a critical eye. She looked more thoughtful than judgmental, though. Lindy was sure she would find out what that meant later.
"But enough about business. Tonight is for celebrating! And what is a celebration without music and dancing! Marcus, some music if you please!” And from the adjoining ballroom a big band ensemble began playing.
As always, Gabriel escorted her to the floor for the first dance. It was one of the few times all evening she would enjoy the bulk of his attention, so she made the most of it. “I'm glad we came tonight. Henry is a sweet man. I think it makes him happy to see everyone together like this."
Gabriel snorted. “To make sure he has everyone securely under his thumb, you mean."
"Do you think so?"
"I know so. He may come off as harmless and benefic
ent, but the man's a demon, in the courtroom and in the boardroom. I don't trust him any more than I have to."
"That's kind of sad. To always be worrying about someone's hidden motives."
"It's the way of the world, Lindy. You have to know what drives other people so you don't end up getting screwed."
She had no answer to that, so simply rested her head on his chest as they moved across the floor.
When the music ended, he led her back through the wall of French doors into the dining room and their table. There were many couples still sitting, moving from table to table in conversation. The arrangement of the rooms was such that Lindy could watch the dancers from her vantage point, so she sipped at a flute of champagne and observed the company with an artist's eye while Gabriel networked.
Her gaze caught on a flash of darkness, and she refocused her eyes to see Michael dance past slowly, his arms around Kathleen. Lindy's heart jumped in trepidation. Kath seemed to be doing most of the talking, although Michael was given the occasional opportunity to reply. He looked serious, but not angry, and so Lindy relaxed a bit. Gabriel drew her attention away to introduce her to several people, and when she looked back, the couple was gone.
The song came to a close, and Lindy looked up to see Michael crossing the floor towards them determinedly. Oh god, what had Kathleen done? Michael held her eyes, his own revealing nothing as he stopped next to her chair. “Stevens,” he interrupted Gabriel's discussion. “Mind if I steal your wife?"
Gabriel turned, annoyed at the interruption. He directed his irritated look first at Lindy before moving on to Michael. “Sure,” he replied finally, “as long as you bring her back when you're done with her."
"I'll think about it,” Michael replied dispassionately. “Depends on how good a dancer she is."
"I've always found her serviceable."
"Hello,” Lindy interjected into the testosterone attack, “I'm sitting right here."
Gabriel jerked back in surprise. His eyes narrowed. “She can dance with who she likes.” And he turned back to his conversation.
"Madam?” Michael offered Lindy his hand.
She took it and rose gracefully to her feet, allowing him to tuck her arm through his. “About time you got around to actually asking me."
His sure step hesitated. “You're absolutely right, pet, and I'm sorry.” He backed up a step and bent over her hand in overblown chivalry. “My lady Lindy, will you do me the honor, the very great privilege of gracing me with a dance?"
She laughed and curtsied melodramatically. “Why, my lord Michael, the honor would indeed be mine."
He pulled her arm back into his. “There, all the proprieties observed?"
"You are totally insane."
He waggled his eyebrows at her as he swung her into his arms. “'S part of my charm."
His arm fit comfortably along the small of her back, his fingers curved around her waist. She rested one hand high on his shoulder, in tempting reach of the nape of his neck, as he held the other easily in his own, close to their body. If he held her a little too closely, it was hidden by the fullness of her skirt.
He coasted her effortlessly into the steps of the dance. She allowed herself to be guided, enjoying his strength and confidence as they flowed over the floor to the sound of an old Fred Astaire classic. Michael's dancing was much more stylistic, more dramatic than Gabriel's. He spun her lightly, turned her under his arm with a natural grace before catching her back close to him with a smile.
She couldn't help but smile back. “You're enjoying this too much."
"Can't help it. ‘ve got a marvelous partner. So graceful and supple and accommodating...” She looked into his heavy eyes and knew he wasn't talking about dancing.
"And how did you like your last partner?” she asked to deflect him from something she knew she wouldn't be able to resist.
He chuckled. “That one is a piece of work. I like her.” He studied her for a moment. “Wouldn't have figured her for your confidant, though. Your perky blonde friend maybe, but not the beauty queen. She seems too hard around the edges for you."
"Kath's got a good heart,” Lindy defended, her feet still moving lightly through the dance. “And she's more worldly than Jade. She understands in a way Jade couldn't. I...” She ducked her head for a moment, then bravely met his eyes. “I don't think Jade would approve."
He smirked. “She just doesn't know me well enough.” But he squeezed her comfortingly.
"So, what did Kathleen think of you?"
"Don't rightly know, actually,” he confessed. “And truth be told, I'm rather afraid to ask. I get the sense she can see right through me."
"Most people underestimate her because of her looks and her bluntness, but she's really very shrewd."
"Well, you could do worse than standing her friend. She's certainly protective of you."
"Are you going to tell me what you talked about?"
He shook his head. “Ask her."
"She's my friend! You don't get to keep secrets with her!"
"If she's your friend, then she'll tell you."
"You're just doing this to jerk my chain, aren't you?"
He grinned at her. “Consider it retaliation for your shameless behavior over dinner.” He drew her marginally closer, but enough to generate pleasurable friction for both of them. “I think you enjoyed your little games."
She tipped her chin up stubbornly. “I wasn't the only one playing, as I recall. Besides, I thought you liked it when I explored my power."
His eyes darkened dangerously. “Oh, I do.” And he bent her back into a low dip, sliding her pelvis against his burgeoning erection as he brought her back up. She could feel the tension in his arms, and she realized that she had moved him even more than she thought. Laced among the guilt she suddenly felt was a silver strand of womanly pride.
The music ended, and the dancers stopped to applaud. But Michael didn't let her go. “There's something I've been meaning to ask you all night."
"Yes?"
He bent his head low over her shoulder. “Which of the pretty knickers did you decide to wear tonight?” His voice rumbled with desire.
She caught her breath and looked impishly into his face. “Why, none of them,” she answered innocently.
He pulled his head back in surprise. “None?"
She poked his chest lightly with one finger, emphasizing her words. “Not. A single. Thing.” She grinned and winked at him, but her heart was pounding. “Thanks for the dance.” And she sauntered off the dance floor, leaving him stunned.
Chapter 24
Rogue tried not to fidget as Masters’ speech went on and on. He just wanted this meal to be over so the dancing could start and he would have an excuse to hold Lindy in his arms again.
Finally their host cued the music, and chairs were pushed back as couples moved to the dance floor. His eyes narrowed as Gabriel led Lindy possessively ahead of him, but there was nothing Rogue could do to intercede. He'd have to wait his turn.
So instead, he turned to Lydia Martin. “Care to dance, pet?"
She smiled graciously and turned to her father. “Daddy, do you mind if I abandon you for a little while?"
"Not at all, my dear. There are several people I would like to have words with. Have a good time."
Rogue held her chair as she rose and kissed the older man on the head before allowing Rogue to take her arm.
He danced with Lydia mostly as a courtesy, although he was certain she wouldn't be spending the evening as a wallflower. She had a sharp mind and a figure that would stop traffic. But he had been her dinner companion, and, as his preferred partner was otherwise spoken for, he felt it only proper for him to escort her this first time on the floor. Besides, it put him closer to Lindy.
As soon as it was over, he excused himself and started off in search of his lover.
He had barely taken three steps across the room when Kathleen Fallon blocked him, halting his progress. “Why yes, I'd love to dance, thank you
so much for asking,” she said dryly, taking his hand and resting her other on his shoulder.
He was so startled by her aggressive tactics that he reacted automatically, resting his free hand between her shoulders as he turned her out onto the floor. “Here to check me out, pet?"
"And warn you off if I don't like what I see.” Her voice was determined.
He had to give her credit. She certainly hadn't hesitated to step up and take him on. “Don't see as how it's any of your business. She's a big girl, she can look out for herself."
"Yeah, see, Lindy? Sweet girl, not too bright. So I'm making it my business. I don't want to see her get hurt."
He couldn't help but smile at her description. She was right. Not that Lindy was dumb in any way, but she led with her heart, and it was a sure way to get it broken. “Not to fret, princess. Hurting her's the furthest thing from my mind."
"Doesn't mean it won't happen."
"I know that."
"So what are your intentions?"
He barked a laugh. “You make me sound like a suitor, luv! I'm just here to show the lady a good time."
"And what's in it for you?"
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You look at her and you have to ask that?"
"Nice try, Romeo. If it was just about the sex, you've gotten what you're after. But you still stick around. Why is that?"
"Because she's worth it,” he replied simply.
Kathleen watched him thoughtfully as they danced. Finally she said, “She is worth it. And she deserves a little happiness. Lord knows she gets little enough of it from Gabriel."
"Not a fan of the ponce, eh?"
Her face became hard. “Let's just say he's not the man she thinks he is. But much as I'd like to see her trade up on the food chain, you aren't long haul guy. You're going to be gone in a few weeks and she's still going to be Mrs. Gabriel Stevens."
What They Call Sin Page 17