Joanne Rock - Manhunting Masquerade Read online

  Her breath caught in her throat and refused to return to normal. Her heart rhumbaed, salsaed, and slow-grooved in her chest, igniting an erratic flow of blood to her body parts. Her fingers chilled while her most secret places burned.

  "Don't tell me I rendered the lady lawyer speechless." He ran his fingers down her shoulders until he held both her hands.

  That's exactly what he'd done. Chloe had never been at a loss for what to say, but she couldn't seem to distance herself from the tide of sensual hunger long enough to use her brain for thinking purposes. She simply stared at his mouth and thought how much easier it would be to kiss him....

  Until Cleopatra-Lexi appeared over Eric's shoulder and cleared her throat. Loudly.

  Marie Antoinette-Amanda materialized at her side, looking surprisingly compassionate given her "Let them eat cake" notoriety. "Chloe, honey, we just wanted to check up on you to make sure you're okay."

  Did barely breathing count as okay? Chloe managed a nod as Eric backed up a step.

  Fortunately, her gladiator was thinking more clearly. He offered his hand to Cleopatra, the more obvious watchdog of the pair. "I'm Eric."

  The Queen of Eqypt raised a skeptical eyebrow but shook his hand. "I'm Lexi Mansfield — your worst nightmare if you're bothering my girlfriend."

  Chloe found her tongue before Lexi got the wrong idea. "Actually, we were just making plans for the rest of the evening." She shot a meaningful look in Eric's direction. "Will you excuse us for a minute?"

  Eric walked his fingers down her spine, an intimate gesture her friends couldn't see behind her back but that Chloe felt in every tingling nerve ending. "I've been meaning to have my fortune told tonight anyway. I'll meet you back here in five."

  He leaned close to kiss her cheek. As he brushed his lips across her skin, he whispered, "I'm dying to know if this is my lucky night."

  While she was still reeling from that comment and Eric disappeared into the crowd, Lexi and Amanda crowded her, hungry for details.

  "We couldn't leave without checking on you, girlfriend." Lexi steered Chloe toward the ladies' room, the age-old safe territory for discussing men.

  As they plowed through the smoke-filled women's lounge toward the mirror, Amanda draped an arm around Chloe's waist. "He's gorgeous, Chloe, but I'd bet my Prada purse that he's the one who represents turbulence and change like the fortune-teller said. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

  Chloe fluffed her red curls as she stared back at her reflection. "We made a pact, didn't we?"

  Lexi sighed as she withdrew a pick from her evening bag and worked on Chloe's hair for her. Chloe's family had never so much as kissed their daughter in public, so Chloe had always appreciated the warmth of her girlfriends' affection — right down to their fussing over her like Cinderella before a big date.

  "We made a pact to force us to be more adventurous, but that doesn't mean we aren't going to be careful," Lexi admonished. "How well do you know this guy?"

  Now there was a loaded question. "Well enough to know he's not my type, but that he'd never hurt me. We battled it out in court last month and we were both — intrigued. He's too rich, too blue-blooded, and too much like the rest of the bottom-line oriented men in my family's world. Since there's no way I could fall for a guy like that, he's the perfect candidate for my night of daring. Right?"

  Amanda and Lexi exchanged glances over Chloe's head. A gesture she hadn't missed, thanks to the mirror. "That doesn't mean he's going to bring turbulence and change to my life." Although the little voice in her head argued he'd already turned her world upside down, intrigued her as much with that sharp mind of his as with those glorious pecs. But she didn't want to listen to any little voice that would talk her out of this. She wanted her night of daring, damn it! "He's just going to spice things up a bit." She shook off Lexi's primping and straightened her gown. "You guys might not want to follow through on the pact for adventure, but I do."

  After making sure Chloe's cell phone was fully charged and turned on, Lexi and Amanda said their good-nights. Neither of them had found Mr. Right at the Silk Masquerade, but Chloe had at least found Mr. Right Now. And for tonight, that was enough.

  No sooner had she emerged from the ladies' room into the club than her gladiator appeared — bronzed and gorgeous, his heated gaze meant only for her. "Ready?" he asked her.

  A world of meaning communicated to her through that one word. Was she ever. She wanted to take this adventure to the extreme tonight. "Yes. But I don't want anything so trite as a 'my place or yours' line. I don't think I can wait that long to show you that little item you mentioned wanting to see."

  His gaze dipped to ease over her breasts, belly, and finally — her thighs. "Honey, I wouldn't dream of asking you anything so trite. I'm willing to wait about five minutes to see those garters, so why don't you find the quickest place I can get you alone."

  Eric didn't have to wait long for the lady lawyer to take action.

  "Maybe I'm a bit of an over-planner, but I booked a room upstairs so I didn't have to take a cab across town dressed as the Heart Queen today," Chloe confided as she tugged him out of the hotel's ballroom and away from the masquerading revelers. "That might afford us a little privacy."

  "Perfect." It would also afford him an opportunity he'd been dreaming about ever since his first whiff of that flowery perfume of hers. "And let the record show I commend both your practical nature and your excellent planning, Chloe." Eric didn't waste any time hitting the "up" button for the nearest elevator.

  He just hoped she'd still be interested in him Monday morning when she learned about his proposed project for the lot next to the historical building she'd fought so hard to protect in court last month. Chances were her historical society client wouldn't be thrilled with Eric's new idea for moderately priced housing units. But even with Chloe heading up their side, they didn't have a legal leg to stand on to stop Eric from the venture.

  As they rode past 10 floors on the way to her suite, Eric assured himself Chloe would appreciate that their personal lives didn't need to be affected by their dealings in court. Wouldn't she?

  Chloe pushed her way into the darkened suite and turned to beckon him inside. Eric's breath caught in his throat at her sultry smile, her intentional flick of her red skirt to flash him a little more leg. No way would he risk tonight by talking business. Right now, all he only wanted to touch, taste, and breathe was Chloe Leclaire.

  * * *

  "Come on in." Chloe wondered if that breathy voice really belonged to her.

  The light from the hallway spilled into the room behind the silhouette of her Roman gladiator. As impressive as Eric Matteo looked with the bronze trappings of his costume accentuating his every muscle, Chloe longed to pull off all his clothes, to run her finger over hot flesh instead of cool metal.

  He stepped over the threshold into the darkness, an act that seemed to commit her to the turbulence and change the fortune-teller had predicted.

  "Can we turn a light on?" Eric asked as the heavy hotel door closed behind him.

  "Not yet." There was a certain comfort in the dark. Besides, her room looked like a tornado had hit it since she'd gotten dressed for the party here earlier. "In a minute." Right now, she just wanted his hands on her — the sooner the better.

  She could scarcely remember the last time a man had touched her — too long ago, too unmemorable. If the heat breaking out over all her skin was any indication, she would remember tonight — and Eric — for a very long time. She only hoped she'd be able to peel herself and her red garters away from him in the morning.

  "Second thoughts?" he whispered, backing her toward the bed as he loomed closer and closer still.

  "Definitely not." She wanted this man more than she'd wanted to win any court case, which was saying a lot for a woman who'd worked nonstop to carve out her slot in a prestigious law firm. No matter what Chloe had told her girlfriends, she was attracted to Eric on more than a physical level. His quick mind on the witnes
s stand had intrigued her every bit as much as his high stud factor. "I had to fight my way past a medieval knight and two overprotective historical queens to be alone with you. I'm not backing down now."

  She sensed the heat of his body closing in on hers, breathed the spice of his aftershave and the smooth potency of the single malt scotch he'd been drinking. Desire stirred low in her belly, radiated outward to her limbs and tingled every inch of her body.

  He backed her up against the bed until her calves pressed into the mattress. His chest grazed hers, bronze plate to red satin. Her heart picked up speed to match her erratic breathing.

  Slowly, he pulled off the shirt of his costume, an action Chloe spied in the dim light filtering under the hotel room door. Muscles rippled in the shadowy outline of his shoulders, his arms.

  "I think you will be backing down." His voice rasped across the spare inch separating them. "Right about now."

  He leaned over her, effectively arching her backward into the soft comfort of the mattress. He followed her down, his body flush against hers. He steadied his weight with his arms planted alongside her shoulders. His arousal nudged her satin-covered hip and inspired a restless, aching hunger between her thighs.

  She couldn't answer, couldn't speak. Instead, she settled for threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer to kiss his lips, to caress the gentle scratch of his five o'clock-shadowed cheeks. Her fingers found the slight scar high on one cheekbone, and she kissed that, too.

  One day, she would ask him about that. But not now. Not when his broad palm skimmed up her calf and all the way to her thigh. Not when his work-hardened hands lingered over the top of her silk stocking, or his finger dipped below the sheer fabric to gently flick free the clasp.

  In some recess of her mind she registered that his callused hands seemed at odds with his financier work. The fingers that brushed away the dangling strap of her garter lacked the manicured smoothness common in her blue-blooded world.

  Something about the man's rough edges sizzled her from the inside out.

  She wriggled beneath him, impatient to be free of her dress. Divining her thoughts as clearly as if she'd spoken the words, Eric unzipped the red satin gown and slid it down her legs.

  "I need to see you." Eric reached above her head to click the bedside lamp on its lowest setting.

  Chloe blinked against the brightness, but the husky tone of Eric's voice assured her he wasn't going to notice the tornadolike condition of her hotel room right now.

  "Holy hell, Chloe."

  His words surprised her, forced her eyelids open. He was staring unabashedly at her choice of lingerie — a red fishnet teddy with built-in bra she'd picked up at one of Manhattan's racier retail establishments. "What?"

  "You're definitely not as buttoned-up as you look."

  "Disappointed?" She walked her fingers down his chest to the waistband of his pants, then smoothed her hand over his erection, around his hip.

  He sucked in a breath and gripped her wandering hand in the vise of his fingers. "Definitely not."

  Accustomed to winning what she wanted, Chloe didn't let her temporary imprisonment stop her exploration. She merely lifted her hips off the bed to caress him with another part of her anatomy.

  And it didn't take long for her to win her case. Eric's pants hit the floor along with her panties in record time. Before she could delicately broach the matter of a condom, he had already rolled one on.

  She delighted in her victory, soaring high from the moment he edged himself inside of her. The heat of his body, the stroke of his tongue over her barely covered breasts nudged her closer to a level of bliss she'd only dreamed about. He palmed her belly as he settled deeper within her, reached lower to touch her pulsing center.

  With slow advance and retreat of his touch he teased and enticed her until she screamed his name with enough volume to wake the whole floor. Eric followed her — more quietly — but with just as much power.

  The endorphins she felt after eating a whole bowl of rocky road ice cream didn't even come close to the unadulterated ecstasy of her release. But like anything that delivered that much pleasure, Eric Matteo could prove to be a big mistake. She'd just bared her body, soul, and maybe even her heart to a man from the bottom-line-driven, moneyed world that had suffocated her all her life. Could she really afford to blithely curl into the shelter of his arms and pretend morning wouldn't come?

  Eric had never been given such a gift. The uptown lady lawyer had not only chosen him over her highbrow old flame earlier tonight, she'd also fulfilled his every fantasy in her red fishnet teddy and stop-traffic garters.

  And, heaven help him, she was inching her way closer again as they sprawled together in her bed.

  He could hardly think straight with a redheaded siren walking her fingers up his chest and whispering naughty invitations in his ear.

  "Our first time was the most fun I've ever had in bed," she admitted as her questing touch drifted under the sheets. "Care to break that record in Round Two?"

  Hell, yes. The sentiment blared across his conscience, obliterating his recurring thought that he needed to talk to her, needed to confess the sticky situation that might arise for them professionally next week. His body had more important talking to do — as did Chloe's, judging by the way she slid one satiny leg over his thigh.

  But while her one hand slid around his waist, her other caressed his cheekbone, lingering on the scar that had been there since childhood. He pried an eye open to find her studying his face with a tender concern that slugged him square in the gut and awakened his common sense.

  "Chloe, wait." He had to tell her about the proposed project for the empty lot on Broadway, even if it robbed him of his chance to be with her. "We need to talk."

  She frowned, her soft lips puckering into a sexy pout. "Don't tell me we're out of condoms."

  "Actually, I'm as much of an overplanner as you are, and I'm armed for a couple more go-rounds." His finger itched to touch that sensual mouth, to trace the curves of an exaggerated Cupid's bow. "But there's a real-world issue I need to put on the table before we go any further."

  If she was worried at his sober tone, her mischievous grin sure didn't give it away. "I didn't think it was possible to go much further than we've already been."

  He propped himself up on one elbow, bracing himself for possible fall-out. "I should have told you earlier, Chloe, in the interest of full disclosure. After failing to put together the deal on the cultural center, I've decided to propose a different project for the lot next to your historical building." He waited for her to start throwing his clothes in his face, but she seemed to still be listening. "This one doesn't involve your client's property in the least. But I did already file the papers for the necessary permits."

  Would she be on the phone to her client before she could even chase him out the door? Not that he'd leave before he made a few closing arguments of his own.

  She stared at him across the pillow, eyes wide. Great, she was probably in shock, horrified that she'd slept with a guy who withheld information.

  "And you think for some reason I wouldn't know this already?" She raised an auburn eyebrow. "What do I look like, a first year law student? A bad sequel to Legally Blonde?"

  * * *

  Chloe stared back at Eric, feeling pretty damn pleased with herself for shocking the socks off him. Her family had expected perfection of her for so long she wasn't used to being underestimated.

  "You knew about this?" He sounded downright skeptical. Foolish man.

  "City zoning information is open to the public. Ever since I signed on to represent the historical society, I've had a law clerk conduct frequent searches on permit applications in the Broadway area." She shrugged. Seemed like basic "cover-your-butt" strategy in her book.

  But Eric looked at her as though she'd just solved global warming. A fact that sent an unexpected rush of gratification through her, a gentle pleasure that was — in its own way — as powerful as the ea
rth-shattering sexual fulfillment he'd given her an hour ago.

  "You're telling me you know I want to put up apartments next door to your historical building, and you don't care?"

  The flow of pleasure slowed. "Of course I care. No doubt we'll be facing off over this in court again. But don't think I'm going to cut you any slack just because of tonight."

  He lifted both hands in mock surrender. "Maybe I'd better find myself a good attorney. You might be a little too much for me to handle." His fingers skated across the blanket to land on her shoulder, and then traced the line of her collarbone. "In the courtroom, that is. I think I can fend for myself in the bedroom."

  His touch sent shock waves through her, accelerating her pulse and reminding her she had absolutely nothing on beneath the sheets.

  "You'd better get up early in the morning if you're going to find a lawyer to match wits with me," she teased, allowing her eyes to drift shut in response to his wandering caress.

  "I'm out of luck until Monday." He lifted her hair off her throat and leaned in to kiss her neck. Thoroughly. "I've got houses to build tomorrow."

  Had she just heard him correctly?

  "Houses to build?" She scooted herself backward, away from the kiss that threatened to scramble her thoughts. "You don't have permission to start building anything on that site yet."

  "Not those houses. I do volunteer work with Habitat for Humanity on the weekends. I've been building houses every Saturday since high school."

  Perhaps she looked confused because Eric pantomimed the act of hitting a nail with a hammer.

  "You know, house building. Like a carpenter."

  Or like the blue-collar construction worker stud of her dreams. She'd watched enough soda commercials in her lifetime to buy into the fantasy of a sexy, sweaty guy in work overalls. Chloe's mouth went dry as she envisioned Eric Matteo's muscles in a faded T-shirt.

  This wasn't sounding very blue-blooded to her at all. In fact, it sounded quite delicious.