JAYNE APPROACHED THE receptionist desk at the Centoria Mark, struggling to appear calm and casual. To behave as though she belonged and not as though she were up to anything illicit.
Which she wasn’t. Absolutely not.
The outfit she wore could pass as normal. She’d chosen a lovely calf-length wool skirt and silk blouse in a matching ivory. The holly berry-red of her boots and oversized bag gave the simple outfit a dramatic flair, though nothing outrageous. At least, not for New York. Her hair was tucked into a jaunty cashmere hat. The only garment that might have raised eyebrows was the ankle-length hooded cloak that perfectly matched the color of her boots and bag.
The receptionist was the same woman who’d been on duty New Year’s Day and greeted Jayne with a smile of recognition. “Ms. Hood, how lovely to have you stay with us again.”
Jayne struggled to keep her jaw from dropping to the stylish tips of her boots at the unexpected greeting. “Thank you—” she quickly glanced at the name tag to refresh her memory “—Selene.”
“You’re already checked in, though I’m afraid your usual room wasn’t available this evening,” Selene continued smoothly. “Our manager, Mr. Jacks, has arranged for you to stay in the Mount Olympus suite. It has two bedrooms with a connecting salon.” She slid a key card across the desk. “This accesses both your bedroom as well as the salon.”
Jayne hesitated. More than anything she wanted to take the key. But a two-bedroom suite? She couldn’t begin to imagine what such a room must cost. “I’m not sure—” she began.
Selene offered a reassuring smile. “I understand, perfectly. It’s always disappointing when your first choice of accommodation can’t be met, but I promise you’ll love this suite every bit as much as the other one.” She gave the barest wink, a movement so quick and subtle Jayne wondered if she’d imagined it. Then she continued in a barely audible voice, “Don’t worry about a thing, Ms. Hood. The account has been prepaid in full.”
“That’s a relief. I couldn’t afford so much as a closet in this place,” Jayne replied just as softly. Now that she knew her Mystery Lover wasn’t Jonathan, she didn’t have to worry about whether or not he was paying for the suite or using Nick’s name for a special discount.
Selene resumed a normal speaking voice. “But in case you’re dissatisfied with the change, Mr. Jacks will call you later this evening to make certain the accommodations meet your standards.”
“I’m sure they will,” Jayne said faintly.
The elevator whisked her to the upper echelons of the hotel, opening onto a plush, silent corridor with a carpet deep enough to swim in. A discreet gold placard directed her toward the harbor side of the hotel and the trio of doors that comprised the Mount Olympus suite. At a guess, the two huge double doors opened onto the salon. To her amused delight, the doorway to her bedroom was gilded in silver and designated with a moon and an image of Artemis, while the second bedroom sported gold trim, a brilliant sun and a rendition of Apollo.
The key card unlocked her door and she stepped into a fantasy that exactly mirrored the theme for the evening. The bedroom might have been a room in a small cottage in the woods except for one minor detail. Though rustic in appearance, it offered a comfort Jayne was certain the storybook Red never would have experienced. The four-poster bed sported garlands of leaves and flowers while a paper-thin cotton canopy stirred beneath the air currents in the room. Even the furniture was made from raw, unfinished wood, though it still managed to exude a certain designer chic.
Jayne shook her head in amazement. As much as she’d like to take the time to explore her surroundings, she wanted Zorro—or his latest incarnation—all the more. Exploration could come later. Much later. Glancing toward the door leading to the salon, she swiftly removed her hat and cloak. Time to put the finishing touches on her costume for their date.
At eight on the dot, she opened the door to the salon and found herself peering into the re-creation of a forest glade. And standing in the middle of the glade was a gloriously savage, deliciously masculine wolf, complete with whiskers, bright gold eyes—no doubt courtesy of a pair of contact lenses—and a face cleverly painted to resemble a wolf. Not even Courtney could have done a better job and Jayne doubted that whoever The Big Bad really was, even his own mother wouldn’t have recognized him in his current getup.
Jayne stared in amazement, seriously impressed. “My, what big everything you have,” she marveled.
THE DOOR BETWEEN THE Artemis bedroom and the main salon opened and Nick turned. Jayne stood in the doorway, a beautiful scarlet cape adorning her from head to toe, concealing more of her than it revealed. Her elegant features were obscured by a delightfully feminine mask covered in seed pearls, white feathers and sequins.
Her breath caught sharply, and he took immense pleasure in the way she stared at him in stunned disbelief. After her humorous greeting, she stepped into the room and that’s when he caught a whiff of her nervousness. Maybe it was his appearance, or perhaps his silence. But she hesitated just a few feet from the safety of her bedroom, unwittingly reenacting what must have been the real Red’s response when she first came upon the wolf.
“Zorro?” she asked with an edge of anxiety.
“Once upon a time, my former Queen of the Nile.” He deliberately replied with a Spanish accent in order to reassure her, then pitched his voice low and gruff. “But not tonight.”
Her anxiety faded and a smile blossomed across her mouth. “You look…amazing.”
Despite the mask she wore, he’d have known her anywhere—the way she stood with the carriage of a queen. The lift of her rounded chin that hinted at forced bravado flying in the face of an innate shyness. Her unique fragrance, one that the more primal aspects of his nature associated with the scent of his mate. The delicacy of her form and the fluidity of her movement as she stepped farther into the room. He knew them all. Had learned each and every one of them over the course of eighteen endless months. And now they were his.
At least, for the moment.
She halted several feet away, sweet innocence in the face of ravening threat. Then she approached and her cloak flared around her, parting briefly before rippling closed again. In that split second he caught a glimpse of a virginal white satin-and-lace bustier, complete with a tiny frilled skirt incongruously matched with a pair of thigh-high red stiletto boots.
His breath hissed from his lungs as though he’d been sucker punched. He thought he actually growled. Going by the surprise on her face, he could pretty much guarantee he growled.
Her smile grew, turned flirtatious and knowing. “My, what big eyes you have,” she teased.
He almost responded in his normal voice, only remembering at the very last instant to change the intonation and diction. “All the better to see you with, my dear,” he replied.
It might have been tough to maintain the voice, but it wasn’t any problem at all to stay in character. He felt like a wolf, wild and savage and hot on the scent of his prey. He reached for the cloak, intent on seeing more, but she flitted out of range.
The hood fell backward and revealed her hair. She’d taken as many pains over the style as he had over his wolf guise. The honey-blond length fell past her shoulders in dozens of braids, studded with red and crystal beads, feathers to match her mask and white ribbons. Her hair moved and chattered with a life of its own. More than anything, he wanted to feel those braids and beads on his skin.
He couldn’t help himself. He gave chase. She laughed in delight, her brilliant red cloak billowing behind her, revealing the pièce de résistance. She wore a thong beneath her bustier, and attached to the back, just above her pert round backside was a dainty white bow that dipped and swayed and tempted him beyond measure.
It only took two swift strides to catch her and swing her into his arms. Her laughter faded, replaced by the nervousness he’d noticed earlier. Fighting for control of his beastly side, he gently set her down, still holding her, but loosely now. Tenderly.
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he said.
She studied his face. Searching. Analyzing. No doubt probing for something familiar that would give her a clue to his identity. “Who are you? I assumed you were Jonathan and you used that misunderstanding to seduce me.”
“If you’ll recall, I did tell you I wasn’t Jonathan. I told you that the minute we met.”
She didn’t argue the point. Nor did she appear satisfied with his explanation. “Who are you?” she repeated.
“Does it matter?”
“Under the circumstances, I guess not.”
That gave him pause. “Under the circumstances?”
“I mean since it’s just…” She broke off.
“Just?” he prompted.
“Just physical,” Jayne finished in an awkward little rush. She held up her hand before he could say anything. “You know, maybe this would be a good time to set up some rules.”
“Rules.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or kiss her silent.
“I’ve just been offered a huge promotion at work and that has to come first.”
Nick struggled for patience. “What does that have to do with us and these rules you want to discuss?”
“Well, my first rule is that we keep our meetings light and casual.” She smiled encouragingly. “Since I don’t have time for anything as distracting as a real relationship, this is the perfect alternative, don’t you think? A purely physical connection.”
“A physical connection.” Son of a bitch. He felt like a damn parrot. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“Well, um. You know, a sexual relationship with no strings.”
“You don’t want to get to know each other better?”
She hesitated, no doubt sensing something amiss. She chose her words with care. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’re doing to make our evening so fun and interesting. But I can’t believe you’re looking for a serious relationship, either. You can’t be. I mean, if you were, you’d have told me who you are so we could get to know each other without hiding behind masks. Right?”
Son of a bitch! How did she do it? How did she keep sabotaging his plans? Every time he came up with a new plan to get closer to her, she threw up a new roadblock. Well, not this time. She might think she could hold him at an emotional distance, but she’d soon learn differently.
Winning Jayne might take a little longer than he’d initially anticipated, but one way or another he’d find a way to break through her defenses. He’d simply launch a two-pronged attack, one at work and the other on the nights they met in disguise. Eventually, one persona or the other would get through to her no matter how hard she attempted to hold him at a distance. And once that happened, he’d reveal his true identity.
He’d spent his entire career taking disparate businesses and wedding them into conformity. Merging different and unique parts into a new, stronger, more complete whole. The art of melding companies required someone capable of looking outside the box, someone with patience, someone who could get past the obstacles thrown up by hardheaded stubborn participants and encourage them to see the benefits of merging. In other words, someone like him.
Just like with Adams and Zander, Nick’s two-pronged assault on Jayne’s emotional defenses would require perfect timing. But eventually she’d surrender and, when she did, he’d find the perfect moment to merge his two identities. Until then…
He tightened his arms, pulling her up against his chest. He heard her sigh, felt the give of her body as it surrendered to his. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. No, don’t argue. Just close your eyes.”
After a momentary hesitation, she obeyed. “This is so strange,” she complained.
“Maybe, but it’s also right. Just let your body remember me. Remember how we were together on New Year’s Eve.” He waited until the last of her resistance drained away and she fully relaxed against him. “Listen to me, Red. All that matters right now is this. What we feel. How we respond to each other. The reason I suggested wearing a mask is so we can be honest with each other.”
Her lips twitched and her eyes opened. “Honest?” she repeated drily. She gestured toward the wooded glen that surrounded them, then toward his getup. “This is honest?”
He chuckled. “Point taken. I guess I mean emotionally honest. You can just be yourself and play. I get the impression you don’t often play.”
“I did as a child.” She reconsidered. Shrugged. “Growing up on a farm came with a lot of responsibilities. Those had to come before play.”
“You don’t have any responsibilities with me other than to have fun.”
“It’s not fair, you know,” she complained.
“Having fun?”
“Not that.” She slipped free of his arms and crossed to a table designed to look like a giant tree stump. It was set up in preparation for a late dinner. “You know who I am.”
He didn’t even consider lying to her. “I have from the start.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “How is it fair that you know my identity but I don’t know yours?”
“It isn’t.”
She turned fully around to confront him. Her braids chattered in agitation. “Care to even the scales?”
“No. But I will promise to tell you who I am.” He approached and poured the wine that he’d left open to breathe. He handed her a glass before taking the other for himself, offering a wolfish smile. “Eventually.”
“No matter how this ends between us?” she bargained.
“Yes.”
She touched the rim of her glass to his. Just like on New Year’s Eve, the crystal sang out in sweet accord and she inclined her head. “It’s a deal.”
He indicated the food he’d chosen for their evening together. “So, my sweet little Red. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” She took a sip of wine before carefully returning her glass to the table. Then she stepped into his embrace. “But not for food.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He swung her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom and the masculine darkness within. “Welcome to my den, Red.”
FROM THAT TIME FORWARD, they met every Saturday night in the Mount Olympus suite. And each night they met offered Jayne a new theme and a suite transformed to echo their latest fantasy. She tried not to think about the time and money involved in creating the elaborate sets. But it did confirm one thing Nick had suggested.
Whoever lurked behind the disguises had to be one of the wealthier contributors to Foundation Fontana. Of course, that included most everyone she’d come into contact with during her involvement setting up the ball. And though there were times when she felt an odd familiarity about her Mystery Lover—or ML as she privately dubbed him—she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about him that sparked the sensation. Of course, if she were brutally honest with herself, she’d admit that she didn’t want to know. Knowing would spoil the fantasy and she didn’t want her fantasy spoiled by reality.
Not now. Not yet.
Each passing week, Courtney assisted with her costume and oftentimes the makeup as well, transforming Jayne from pedantic to mesmerizing. And each week Jayne spent one enchanted night in the arms of Robin Hood or a sheikh or Prince Charming, or even a surprisingly sexy caveman. Only one cloud dimmed the pleasure of each of those amazing rendezvous.
Despite her having been clear that she didn’t want a serious relationship, she could feel her Mystery Lover attempting to nudge them in that direction. And each time, she gently pulled back. Didn’t he understand? Their time together wasn’t serious. And though what they had was spectacular, it was all about sating the senses, not the mind or emotions. She had all the intellectual discourse she needed with Nick.
“Why don’t you want more than just this?” ML asked her one night.
“Because what we have is enough for me,” she said gently. “Why won’t you tell me who you are?”
They lay on a down mattress in the captain’s cabin of a pirate ship. For a change, she’d gotten to play the role of the pirate to his Admiral of Her Majesty’s fleet. She’d thoroughly pillaged and ransacked the admiral. Or maybe the admiral had thoroughly pillaged and ransacked her. It was hard to tell.
“It’s not time, yet.” His response came in a spot-on British accent. “Though before long you might be able to guess.”
“Care to give me a clue?”
“I think that if you were willing to bend the rules, you’d discover that we’re perfect for each other in all areas, not just the physical.”
“That’s a clue?”
He rolled over on top of her. “You want a clue? Fine. We’ve met without our masks…more than once.”
Before she could ask anything further, he filled his hands with her breasts. He lowered his mouth to first one, then the other, giving each his undivided attention before moving on. She lost track of their conversation, her thoughts scattering before his determined seduction.
“You, Madam Pirate, are formally accused of misconduct against the Crown,” he informed her. “How do you plead?”
Jayne chuckled. “Guilty. Very, very guilty.”
“Very well. Prepare to be boarded and taken over.”
“I believe you did that already, Admiral.”
His eyes glittered through his mask, deep, navy blue eyes this time, the color intensified by his white pigtailed wig. “I’ve been ordered to conduct a much more thorough inspection, Lady Pirate.”
She allowed the moment to pass, slipping back into her assigned role with unstinting gusto. But she filed away his clue for further consideration when she had both the occasion and the brain cells. Her Mystery Lover took her again. Ravished her again. Overwhelmed her senses with his taste. His touch. His unique scent. And as she surrendered an image popped into her head. An image of Nick, who loved and encouraged intellectual discussions, who managed to connect with her on an emotional level. Only this image had nothing to do with intellectual discussions. Instead she pictured Nick taking her instead of ML. Nick ravishing her. Nick overwhelming every last one of her senses. She stiffened in the admiral’s arms and he froze.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded.
Oh, God. What was wrong with her? “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Though whether she was attempting to convince him or herself, she couldn’t say. She forced out a sultry smile. “I believe you asked me to lower my gangplank?”
But even as she fell back into character, Nick’s image remained. A fantasy within a fantasy. Tantalizing. Just out of reach. A tempting, inaccessible dream. She closed her eyes, surrendering. But a final tantalizing thought remained.
If only she could find a way to merge Nick and her Mystery Lover into one, she’d have the perfect man.