Hot, Sexy & Bad

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Hot, Sexy & Bad Page 15

by Angelo, Judy, et al.


  When Drake had arrived at college, one of the first people he’d met was Chip Aubrey. He and Chip had had their issues. Chip had been exactly the kind of trust-fund brat Drake had worried about. But they’d become friends after a night that had begun with two bloody noses and had ended with an empty bottle of bourbon. When Drake had come up with an idea for new technology that blended third-party apps into Smartphone operating systems with far better security, it’d been Chip’s family’s bank that had given him the small business loan to get up and running.

  As soon as his enhanced security measures had been developed, tech companies had practically knocked each other over beating a path to his door. Overnight he had become one of the wealthiest men in the world at the age of twenty.

  Reporters had swarmed his house and invaded his life, and he had basked in it. Until the reporters had found out about his sister. They’d asked mercilessly about his sister, her death, and his feelings about it. It’d caused Drake to shut down. The raw pain of the constant reminder had been enough to make him hate reporters. He’d returned his Lamborghini and had bought a 4-Runner. He’d ditched the two-thousand-dollar suits for jeans and a baseball cap. For a year he had done no public relations. His PR department had released all notifications of new products and had performed all interviews.

  Slowly, he’d begun to emerge in public again but had done his best to stay under the radar of journalists. When he hadn’t appeared to reclaim the spotlight, people had become more interested in making up rumors. He’d decided he could live with that. It had allowed him to spend time with his family, volunteer at the hospital, and lead a more normal life. Unfortunately, dating would never be normal. There were too many socialites out there who only cared about yachts, vacations to St. Bart’s, and the sizes of the diamond on their finger.

  That was why he had made this annual ball a masquerade. The tickets had been priced so high that they paid for most of the hospital staff and their families to attend for free. Deep down, he had a wish to meet a normal woman. One who didn’t know how much money he had. One who enjoyed talking to him for the sake of good conversation. It sounded silly and he knew that. But even as his hope had faded over time, he’d kept hosting the ball, wishing to find that spark.

  That spark was definitely not coming from the curvy bottle-blonde in front of him. Drake stood quietly behind her clenching his jaw as he listened to Missy Jenner talk to her date, who happened to be his college friend Chip Aubrey. In fact, to grab his attention, he would need someone quite the opposite of Missy, whose rich daddy bought, and continued to fund, his daughter’s makeup company.

  “I heard he isn’t even here. They say it’s some medical condition that has him bedridden,” Missy Jenner said with an unmistakable hint of judgment.

  “Sugarbear, I don’t think so. I know Drake from college and he was a very healthy and athletic guy. I don’t know where these silly rumors start, but Drake Charles is not some elderly invalid.”

  Drake took a sip of champagne as he made a mental note to call Chip for a basketball game soon. Then he’d introduce him to his secretary—a sweet single mother with a solid head on her shoulders.

  Elle’s cell phone rang just a couple blocks out from the charity ball. She didn’t need to look at it to know who it was. “Hello, Mother.”

  “Good evening, dear. Are you on your way to the ball?”

  “You know I am, Mother,” Elle sighed. Her mother still liked to pretend she was calling just to talk.

  “Oh, I daresay the ball will be full of men looking handsome in their tuxedos. Maybe you’ll even dance a time or two. I can’t wait to hear about it in the morning.” And there it was. The real reason her mother called.

  “Yes, Mother. I’m sure there will be lots of people there.”

  “Just enjoy yourself, that’s all I’m saying. It wouldn’t hurt to find a guy, you know. You’re too sweet and lovable to be without a good man. Go find that true love your father and I had.”

  “Thank you, Mom. I’ll try to dance a time or two. See you in the morning for a marathon Christmas cookie baking session.” Elle hung up the phone and looked out at the lights.

  She didn’t want to tell her mother, but she had already decided to enjoy herself. She wished to meet a dark, mysterious man who would whisk her away from reality for one night. Her last relationship had ended almost a year ago. They’d dated for three months and she ‘d thought it was going well. However, he’d begun dropping hints on their last date. But not the kind of hints she had hoped for. No, it had been more like, "Elle, while you have your board meeting this weekend, I would sure love to take my buddies to Aspen. Can I borrow the G5 and maybe you could spot me fifty Gs to show them a good time?" It was then that she’d realized she was only a piggy bank to him.

  It had ruined her confidence and her trust in men. Were they just trying to get to know her because she was rich? Or were they corporate spies? She’d dated one of those in the beginning and had learned her lesson. It was hard to relax and be herself around men. She wanted to be the woman who curled up at home and watched movies in her bunny slippers while eating chocolate ice cream straight from the carton. She was tough enough at work every day—she didn’t want to be that way in a relationship, too. That’s why she was dreaming tonight. Dreaming of a man to give her enough memories to sustain her for another year of sitting alone on the couch at night.

  Elle looked out the window as the limo came to a stop. The museum was lit up like Christmas against the dark night sky.

  “We’re here. I’m going to hop over to the mall and do some last minute Christmas shopping. If I don’t hear from you sooner, I’ll meet you right here at one-thirty to take you back to the office,” Finn told her as he held the door open.

  “Thank you, Finn.” Elle stepped out and smiled for the flashes from the photographers. They’d have fun trying to figure out who was who with everyone wearing full masks or a half-mask like she’d donned. Although, she was sure most of the guests would have gotten out of their cars without their masks just to make sure they were in the paper's society section.

  She walked the red carpet and paused in front of the Drake Charles Foundation and Children’s Hospital sign for her official photograph. She ignored the questions of who she was and just smiled before she went through the ornate glass doors and into the art museum. Beautiful masterpieces hung on the walls and lights cast a warm glow upon the dancers below her. Elle took her time looking over the large crowd as she made her way down the set of white marble stairs. Groups of people hung on the perimeter of the large room talking as waiters walked among them passing out hors d'oeuvres and champagne. Mr. Charles certainly didn’t spare any expense for this year's party.

  Elle smiled as she stopped at the bottom of the stairs and watched the dancers. They were twirling around the dance floor while laughing and talking to their partners. She hoped someone would ask her to dance.

  “Excuse me, Vivienne?”

  Elle turned and looked down, way down, to the man standing next to her.

  “Wrong person, sorry.”

  “My apologies. I’m Dr. Martin Brist, plastic surgeon. And who might you be?”

  “If I told, it would defeat the purpose of a masquerade, wouldn’t it?” Elle teased as she eyed the champagne tray making its way toward her. She silently prayed there would be some left when the waiter got to her. When she had dreamed of a guy talking to her and asking for a dance, it wasn’t a man who was five feet two with a balding head and a potbelly, wearing a peacock mask. Elle smiled to herself and he puffed up, thinking the smile was for him, confirming her suspicions. He was quite literally a preening peacock tonight.

  “Well, since I can’t find Vivienne . . .”

  No, don’t do it, Elle mentally chanted as the man started stuttering. Then she saw him look up and smile. She followed his gaze and saw the mistletoe hanging above. Uh-oh.

  “Excuse me. I want to catch someone before he leaves.” Elle smiled politely and made a dash
for the waiter with one last glass of champagne on his tray.

  She reached for it with a grateful smile to the waiter. A hand closed around hers at the same time hers closed around the glass stem. “Oh!” Elle stepped back, but refused to let go of her hold on the last glass of champagne.

  The hand was big and strong and attached to a very nice tuxedo-clad arm, which was attached to broad, muscular shoulders. Elle jerked her head up and was met with dark blue eyes behind a simple black mask that blended into black hair. His lips were full, his jaw strong, and there was a noticeably absent ring around a particular finger. Elle fought the urge to shiver and melt all at the same time. Maybe her wish had been granted after all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Drake was not used to losing his cool, but as he looked down at the fiery redhead in front of him, he felt a primal urge like he’d never felt before. His hand closed tighter around hers, not wanting to lose the magic between them.

  Beautiful green eyes shone through her mask, and he felt himself grow hot with desire. The pink dress clung to full breasts and rounded hips. A slit off to the side of her dress exposed a smooth leg all the way to her thigh. He found himself staring at it, willing it to fall open just a little more.

  “I believe this is mine,” she told him a little breathlessly. Apparently he wasn’t the only one affected.

  “Maybe we could share,” Drake said with a suggestive smile. His voice was husky with the heady feeling of meeting someone he was instantly attracted to. He let go of the drink thinking he suddenly didn’t feel he needed it to survive the night. Instead his heart pounded as he took a step closer to the woman.

  “Share? I don’t think so. I’m not into sharing . . . anything.” He felt a rush when she devoured him with her eyes. Oh, he was definitely intrigued now.

  Elle took a sip of the champagne but couldn’t feel the sweet bubbles tickling her mouth. Instead she only felt her body responding to the man standing in front of her.

  “It looks like we have something in common. Once something is mine, I never share either.” His deep voice lilted with the slight southern drawl that enveloped her. Suddenly she felt like a woman again. The way his eyes explored her body gave her a new sense of power. This is what she’d been seeking.

  “I doubt you have a problem keeping what is yours. I wonder how you do it? You must teach me.” Elle was shocked at the way her voice purred. She had no idea who she was right now, but she knew who she wasn’t tonight. She decided to go for it.

  He leaned his head back and laughed. “It would be my pleasure to teach you a great many things, my dear.”

  Elle felt her face flush and then moved closer to him as she saw a group of women eyeing the man she was talking to. The orchestra started a new song and she turned, brushing his shoulder as she looked at the dancers. Would he ask her to dance? Would he hold her tight against him as they glided along the floor?

  “Are you here with anyone tonight?” he asked in the barest of whispers.

  “No. There’s no one special in my life right now.” Suddenly she grew nervous. There hadn’t been a ring but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a girlfriend or a fiancée. “Are you here with someone?”

  “Yes. You.” He grinned like a flirty teenager. “So, why did you come tonight?”

  “My mother volunteers at the hospital. My family gets together every week for dinner and she always talks about the children she sees. I feel as if we’re all a part of the place now. We all support it in any way we can.”

  Her mother had started volunteering after her father had passed away. It had given her a purpose again. She read to the children at the hospital, helped the nurses and the families, and always brought chocolate for the kids who could have it.

  “That’s nice of your family. Is your mother your date tonight?”

  “No. She’s getting the house ready for Christmas. Tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, my brother, two sisters, and I will report to the house bright and early to make cookies and decorate the tree. Then we stay in our old rooms until after Christmas.” Elle smiled as she was filled with happy Christmas memories.

  “That sounds lovely. My parents come to my house since I’ve . . . become older. There’s nothing better than Mom’s Christmas dinner, is there?”

  Elle looked up into his eyes and saw the warmth in them as he talked about his family. There was something deeper to him than just a hot body and a sexy voice. It was that something that turned her on more than the flat stomach and mesmerizing eyes.

  Drake looked down at the woman now by his side. Their shoulders touched occasionally as they watched the dance floor. He saw the men blatantly checking her out and moved closer to her to ward them off. It was strange though—for all her talk, she didn’t seem to notice the attention. It surprised him and pleased him greatly. She was no Missy Jenner.

  He noticed a man nearby grab two glasses of champagne and head their way. It was time to stake his claim. The thought of anyone else touching this woman was unbearable.

  He gently took her drink and set it on the table. “Shall we dance?” She smiled and nodded her head slowly.

  Drake rested his hand on the small of her back and navigated her through the crowd and onto the dance floor. He held up his hand and she softly placed hers in it. Desire shot through him, knowing she was feeling what he was: nervous, enchanted, and determined all at once.

  He enclosed her hand in his and wrapped the other around her back, resting it slightly lower than normal. Drake felt the curve of her bottom and pressed her closer to him. He knew she could feel his arousal by the way her cheeks flushed below her mask and her eyes darkened.

  Elle glided along the floor with him leading the way. Drake couldn’t take his eyes off hers. “You’re a wonderful dancer,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  “Thanks. My mom again. She made all of us take dance classes. What can I say?” Elle shrugged as she kept her eyes on his.

  He felt her fingers gently tease the nape of his neck. The action emboldened him as he ran his fingers slowly down her spine.

  “My family is kinda quirky," she stated with a smile.

  “They sound delightful. What about your father?” Drake felt her momentarily stiffen and then relax.

  “He passed away from a heart attack eight years ago. That’s when my mother decided we, as a family, needed to do a weekly activity together. We did a new one every year. First it was dance lessons and then it was art classes. Let me tell you, drawing a naked man while sitting next to your mother is rather uncomfortable.”

  He laughed as he could tell she was remembering it.

  “And then there was knitting, which was when my brother drew the line and moved back to Europe. But not before naming basketball as the next year’s activity. Sadly, my mother at sixty-one can outshoot my youngest sister. Then there were photography, pottery, and cooking classes.”

  Drake chuckled. It sounded wonderful. He was close to his parents, too, but they were happily enjoying retirement in Key West. Although they were visiting more and more often. “That’s seven. What are you doing this year?”

  Elle hesitated. It didn’t seem like he was making fun of her. Her mother may be a pain in the butt, but she was her pain in the butt. In fact, no one knew about their weekly classes followed by a family dinner. She was strangely protective of it, yet she was so comfortable talking to him that she hadn’t even realized she’d told him about her family’s most treasured time together.

  “Fencing.”

  “With swords?” His lips quirked, but his eyes shone with good humor.

  Elle couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, with swords. After the embarrassment with basketball, my sister wanted to redeem herself. She loves historical romance novels and finds it romantic when a man duels to defend his lady’s honor. So when it was her turn to choose the activity, she chose fencing.”

  “Can she beat your mother?”

  “It’s a draw. Luckily they’re good sports about it and it’s actually funny.


  “Which activities did you pick?”

  “Art and photography.”

  “Why’d you choose those?”

  Elle paused as she considered her answer. Talking to him was so easy, but tonight was about freedom and she wanted to protect her identity. “I wanted to be able to do something artistic because it’s so different from my day-to-day life.”

  “I just met you, but I can picture you painting or walking the streets looking for new angles to photograph.” He brought his lips to her ear and whispered, “It’s very sexy.”

  Elle felt a shiver go down her spine as her body heated up. She also felt relief that he didn’t press further. But then the music ended and they came to a stop. She gazed into his eyes waiting to see if he would suggest getting another drink or if he was going to say his goodbyes. He glanced down at her but made no move to leave the dance floor with the other couples. Instead he kept her pressed against him as he waited for the next dance to begin.

  Whoever this man was, he had given her enough memories to last at least one more year. She couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. It was a Christmas miracle and she couldn’t help wanting more.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The music started again and the masked man swept Elle around the dance floor. Elle felt his fingers softly flex into her hip as he led her through another dance. His muscular thighs brushed purposely against her as they swayed across the floor, not allowing her a moment’s reprieve from his presence. Not that she wanted it.

  “Food?” he asked.

  “Italian,” they both said at the same time and laughed. So far they enjoyed the same movies, the same sports, and now the same foods. The only thing they differed on was books. He liked nonfiction and she enjoyed fiction.

 

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