When Charlie had originally pitched the masquerade theme for the End of Harvest Gala, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. But I trust her creative process, and boy, has it paid off.
She’s gone all out, turning Bellanti Vineyards into a spooky themed wonderland. The trees are decorated in blinking white, gold, and purple fairy lights. Glittery cobwebs ethereally drape the branches. There are also glowing crystal balls lining the walkways, flickering like magic as you pass by. Hidden speakers play a variety of classic haunted house sounds that you can hear whenever the band takes a break. It’s literally breathtaking.
Our guests have gone all out with their costumes, too. I see fantastical ball gowns in gleaming jewel tones, silk and velvet suits, top hats and veils and Victorian-style fascinators, and white porcelain masks all around. Charlie created brick walkways throughout the property and installed temporary lampposts decorated with potted geraniums, which give the party an old-world feel. The chilly evening breeze blows softly, scattering around the scent of the many flowers decorating the scene.
There are black and purple roses in large urns, and a Queen of Hearts garden similar to the one in Alice in Wonderland. It’s basically genius—black and white harlequin floor tiles lead to a row of white rose bushes and a table of small buckets of red paint with little brushes for guests to paint the roses.
We’re hoping the event will be successful enough to kick off another fabulous new tradition, whereby Bellanti Vineyards will be known for hosting an annual masquerade ball. And considering that the tickets were a few hundred dollars each, we really need to pull this off without a hitch. But I don’t think we’ll have any problems. It’s obvious that everyone’s having a fabulous time.
I make my way through the crowd, daintily holding the stick of my mask as I keep it pressed against my eyes. I’m wearing a lavish plum and burgundy taffeta gown with a plunging neckline and a low back. Frilly fronds of lace hang off the three-quarter-sleeves, while the hoops make my skirts bob and sway as I walk.
Browsing the crowd for Dante, I take my time greeting the guests and stopping to make small talk. He’d barely left my side all evening but then got pulled away by some associates he wanted to schmooze. I finally see the top of his dark head over the crowd and begin heading that way when there’s a sudden, delighted shout from behind me.
Just then, a thudding sound vibrates the ground. Everyone turns to scan the darkness of the vineyard as a huge black horse races toward the crowd. Its ghostly, apparently headless rider is dressed in white and holds a flaming torch high in the air. A grin splits my face.
Livvie canters a stalwart Ytse just close enough to the crowd to give them a delightful fright. She lets out a trilling yell as she passes by and then disappears into the shadows with the train of her white gown trailing behind her. There’s a collective breath, and then everyone claps.
A few seconds later, she appears on the other side, and then races again into the darkness. There’s another cheer, and the servers begin rotating trays of a select vintage through the crowd as the guests watch eagerly for the headless phantom to reappear. But Livvie keeps them in anticipation as she gallops close enough to be heard but not seen, the eerie sound of her ghostly cry fading into the night air.
“Everyone’s going to be talking about that for months.” Dante comes up behind me and gives a salute with his wine glass in Livvie’s direction. “Should I be worried at how well she pulls off being a specter?”
I grab his glass and take a sip. “She can pull off anything as long as she’s on the back of a horse.”
“She’s talented, like her sister.” Dante kisses me on the temple.
“You mean, sisters. Charlie did a hell of a job.”
“Agreed. She’s about to become very popular, and very busy. I’ve already had several inquiries into who planned the Gala.”
Looping my hands around his neck, I push up on my tiptoes for a kiss. “You can’t imagine how happy that makes me. I’d love for Charlie to be overrun with clients.”
His arms wrap around me. He looks amazing in his custom suit with long tails, and a crisp, high-collared shirt with small pearl buttons. He tucked his mask into his pocket earlier and I’m glad, because it means I have an unobstructed view of his perfect face.
“You know what I want?” he asks in a husky whisper that sends liquid heat straight between my legs.
“No, but I have a pretty good guess.”
“I bet you do. And as soon as the midnight toast is over, I intend to show you exactly what I have in mind.”
“Promises, promises.” I tap the tip of his nose with my finger. “Promises I expect you to keep, sir.”
“Anything for you, madam,” he says, giving me a sweeping, low bow.
After kissing the back of my hand, he straightens to his full height. Adjusting his top hat, he blows me a kiss and disappears into the crowd. A moment later, he appears on the stage beneath a canopy of crisscrossed strings of twinkling fairy lights with a microphone in his hand.
He addresses the crowd and asks them to please grab a champagne flute as the servers move through the group. While that’s being accomplished, he calls Charlie’s name.
“I’d like to introduce the incredibly talented event planner who is responsible for every aspect of tonight’s Gala. Well, everything but the wine, of course.”
I smile at the tone of his voice, teasingly light, as if he’s finally getting the hang of telling jokes. Charlie makes her way through the crowd as they clap and cheer for her. She takes her place beside Dante on the stage and he sings her praises. My heart swells with gratitude and love for them both.
Once all the champagne has been passed around, Dante makes a toast to our guests, the winery, and the success of the harvest season. Everyone drinks to that and the band resumes playing. Cradling my glass in my hand, I sit at the edge of the crowd and take it all in. This night has been truly magical. I can’t think of one thing that would have made it better.
Looking up, I spy Dante walking toward me, his expression intense and striking. My breath hitches, my nipples perking instantly at the lust on his face. Oh, yes. His promise.
His delicious promise.
Reaching for my hand, he lifts me to my feet. “Follow me, please.”
I twine my fingers with his and do a double take when I realize he’s leading me away from the party. “Should we be leaving now?”
“The party will be raging on until the wee hours, I’m sure, but Charlie and the rest of the staff have everything well in hand. No one will notice that we’ve slipped away. Besides, if they knew what I had in mind, they wouldn’t blame us.”
My heart flutters as he leads me to the main house, up the stairs, and out on the balcony off of his room. We can’t see the band or any of the festivities up here, but the music floats up toward us, as if from an invisible band, punctuated by the faint sounds of laughter. Dante spins me across the balcony, then gathers me against him tight and begins a slow dance in time to the music. His body feels so good, so comforting as he easily moves me around the small space.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment all night,” he whispers huskily against my ear.
He tenderly caresses the bare skin on my back where the dress dips low. Resting my cheek against his solid chest, I breathe peacefully with the thought that this is my life now. This man, once so cold and rigid, has learned how to open up to me. We’ve struggled and clashed, separated and reunited, but somehow we ended up exactly where we were supposed to be.
Our dancing becomes closer, tighter, his teeth gently worrying my earlobe. I suck in a breath, letting my head fall back as I drink in the sensation. His lips move to cruise my cheek, my jaw, my neck. Chills race over me.
“Do you trust me?” he whispers.
A soft moan works from my throat. “With my life.”
He slowly backs me up until the balcony’s balustrade presses into my lower back. Gripping my hips, he lifts me and sets me onto the wide railing. I know I’m secure, but with nothing to break my fall, the yawning blackness behind me drives my pulse to the moon. Yet even as my heart jacks, I’m not afraid. Dante won’t let anything happen to me.
With one arm locked securely around me, Dante slips his hand underneath the fluff of my taffeta skirt, up my leg, and then urges my thighs apart. My knees go weak, and I grip the rail tighter for support. When he slides his finger straight into me, I jerk in response, my body going into overdrive with that one simple touch.
“You’re always so hot for me, Francesca,” he murmurs, slipping another finger inside. “So hot…so wet…”
He starts working my clit with his thumb, making small circles just the way I like. It’s impossible for me to stay completely still, yet I’m acutely aware of the thirty-foot drop below. Tossing my head back, I grip the rail harder even as Dante tightens his grip on me.
“I’ve got you,” he says, fingering me faster. “Just let go.”
And I do.
Because even though I’m high above the ground, I know I’m in no danger of falling. Dante will always catch me. Be my solid ground, my foundation.
A hard shiver goes through me as the twisting heat between my legs reaches a peak. I grab his shoulders tight and look into his eyes, moaning his name softly so he knows how close I am, and suddenly I can’t hold back. Coming hard and deep, I fall into the orgasm like I’m free-falling, riding his fingers like they’re his dick. My whole world is nothing but white-hot pleasure.
As I float back down to earth, I realize I’m still in his arms, his cock sliding ever so slowly inside me until I’m completely full of him. He lets out a long breath and then starts thrusting, faster and faster. Clinging to him, I muffle my moans in the fabric of his jacket as he pounds into me, pushing me to the precipice of another release.
With a groan, Dante picks me up, still inside me, and spins us around so he can push my back against the wall of the house. I wrap my legs around him, tilting my hips, drawing him deeper. So deep, I can’t keep quiet anymore. As soft whimpers spill from my lips, Dante pushes into me harder and harder, fucking me so good I can barely stand it, the pleasure ratcheting up, up, tighter, harder. Higher. It’s like we’re dancing again, our bodies in perfect sync.
Suddenly, I’m tipping into oblivion once more, my cries pitching higher and more desperate as I gush around Dante’s cock. With a fierce moan, Dante comes inside me, holding me tightly to him as he shudders his release. And then we’re kissing again, whispering words of love, bathed in silvery moonlight as the distant music wraps itself around us.
It’s perfect. He’s perfect.
Everything about this night is perfection.