Claiming His Mistress. Emma Darcy
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I’ve thought it all out and I’ve already set up an appointment with the investment company Max recommended.”
“I’m sure I could matchmake a suitable husband for you.”
Katie shook her head. “I’d really rather support myself.”
Amanda heaved another exasperated sigh. “It’s not natural.” She waved an arm around the ballroom. “This is what’s natural for someone with your looks.”
“What? A masked ball in fancy dress? This is sheer fantasy land,” Katie mocked laughingly. “But I do thank you for talking me into using Max’s ticket. And finding me this costume.”
“So you are having a good time!” Amanda pounced triumphantly.
Katie grinned. “Yes, I am.”
Her friend handed her a glass of champagne and clicked it with her own. “To a night of fun and frivolity! May there be many more of them!”
Katie smiled and sipped, but didn’t echo the toast. The occasional bit of fun and frivolity did provide a high spot, but a steady diet of it could soon make it lose its magic.
She suspected Amanda kept her life hectic because her husband, who was a truly nice man, tended to be somewhat staid, and exciting distractions kept a happy balance. She also suspected Max had arranged the golfing weekend because appearing in fancy dress was definitely not his style.
Still, the marriage seemed to work quite well, and Katie wondered if the years of working as a nanny in London had made her cynical about the permanence of any relationship. Observing the intrigues and infidelities that went on behind the superficial glitz of supposedly solid marriages had been an unpleasant eye-opener, and guarding the children from them had not been easy.
She loved the innocence of little children. She took more pleasure in their company than the company of most adults. The idea of providing a taxi service for children whose parents didn’t have the time to ferry them around to activities had appealed very strongly to her. She was sure it was workable, given enough finance to back the venture.
In any event, she didn’t want to be fixed up with Amanda’s divorced acquaintances, and divorcees seemed to be the only unattached males for a woman looking down the barrel of being thirty years old. Not that Katie was madly interested in getting attached anyway. She was used to being independent. There’d only ever been the one great passion in her life, and unless someone, somewhere, could spark those same feelings in her, she’d rather stay single.
Making her own way seemed infinitely preferable to sharing her life with a man she didn’t love, even if going into business for herself held more pitfalls than she could foresee at the moment. Just glancing around at the men sharing this table…not one of them was attractive enough to give her even a niggle of doubt about the decision she’d made to invest in a future which she could control.
They were pleasant enough people to spend a few hours with; intelligent, witty, accomplished people who could afford the astronomical price of the tickets to this ball. Maybe it was the effect of the masks and fancy dress, but none of them felt real to her. They were all play-acting. But then, she was, too. Silly to judge anyone when tonight was aimed at taking time out from their day-to-day lives.
Fantasy…
She sipped some more champagne and laughed at the wickedly clever jokes being told. The band started up again and Amanda nudged her in the ribs.
“The pirate king is coming at a stride,” she warned gleefully. “To your right. Three o’clock.”
Katie turned her head obediently, curious to see the man who had stirred Amanda’s interest.
“Now don’t tell me he isn’t seriously scrumptious,” her friend challenged.
It was the wrong word, Katie thought. Completely wrong.
He was striding across the dance floor, a black cape lined with purple satin swirling from his shoulders. The purple was repeated in a dashing bandanna circling his head above his black mask. A white flowing shirt was slashed open almost to his waist, revealing a darkly tanned and highly virile chest. A wide black leather belt was fastened by a silver skull-and-crossbones emblem. His black trousers seemed to strain over powerfully muscled thighs, and knee-high boots accentuated his tall, aggressive maleness.
He looked…seriously dangerous…not scrumptious.
Katie’s heart started thumping. He was coming straight at her with the lethal grace of a panther on the prowl…and he was not about to be diverted or fended off. She could feel his focus on her, feel the driven purpose behind it. A convulsive little shiver ran down her spine. Before she even realised what she was doing, she was pushing her chair back, drawn to stand up and be facing him properly before he reached her.
He emanated a magnetism that was tugging inexorably on her and she didn’t know whether to fight it or succumb to it. All her instincts were on red alert, yet it was more a state of excitement than of fear, like meeting a challenge head-on, compelled to engage whatever the outcome.
She hadn’t experienced anything like this since…since her ill-fated love for Carver Dane had swept her into the sexual intimacy that had been so terribly broken.
Shocked at being reminded of a time she had determinedly put behind her, Katie stiffened with resistance when the buccaneer halted a bare step away, holding out an open palm to her in confident invitation. She stared down at it, and the sharp memory of Carver eased back into the darker side of her mind. This man’s palm was not rough or calloused from manual labour.
“Will you dance with me?”
The softly spoken question had a mocking lilt to it, drawing her gaze up to the eyes behind the mask. They were too shadowed to see his expression. His firmly etched lips were slightly curved, but she caught the sense that the half smile carried more sardonic amusement at himself than any attempt to persuade a positive response from her.
Resentment stirred at the thought he didn’t really want to be attracted to the Carmen persona she was projecting tonight. Yet what was good for the gander was just as good for the goose, Katie argued to herself. His buccaneer costume was also blatantly sexy. In fact, his physical impact was so strong, he was probably well aware of its effect on women, and he was undoubtedly banking on her being an easy target for him.
A perverse streak in Katie urged her to pose a challenge to his overwhelming self-assurance. Instead of placing her hand in his in acquiescence, she propped it on her hip in languid consideration.
“Taking a risk, aren’t you?” she drawled. “Men tend to fall desperately in love with Carmen once they give themselves up to her clutches.”
Amanda burst into giggles and the rest of the party around the table fell silent to take in this interesting encounter.
He tilted his head to one side, and the hand he’d offered gestured non-caringly. “My life is littered with risks I’ve taken. One more is neither here nor there.”
“You come out…unscathed…every time?” Katie queried disbelievingly.
“No. But I hide my scars well.”
She quite liked that answer. It made him more human, less invincible. She smiled. “A fearless fighter.”
“More a survivor,” he returned blandly.
“Against all odds.”
“Would you have me back off, Carmen?”
“That would spoil the game.”
She sashayed around him, swishing the frills on her skirt, the exhilaration of being deliberately provocative zinging through her as she turned and extended her hand to him in invitation. “Will you dance with me?”
He’d already swung, following her movements as though she was now the pivotal magnet. He took her hand in a firm grasp, and with slow deliberation, lifted it to his mouth.
“The pleasure…believe