by Linde, K. A.
I evaded Jane. I wasn’t ready to see her yet. Or to hear her excitement at me being back and how she was right that it had all blown over. When I was certain that it hadn’t.
I escaped into a crowd of people and came out on the other side to find Penn standing there with none other than Harmony Cunningham, the daughter of the designer whose dress I wore currently.
My smile disappeared. I knew that Penn and Harmony had history. He’d used her to make Katherine jealous—or so Lewis had said. Right now, I didn’t know what to think of them. She was standing awfully close with her hand on his arm. Not that he looked pleased by it.
I hated the jealousy that settled in my stomach. It was an emotion I wanted to snuff out.
I retrieved my phone, snapped a picture of them standing together, and sent it to Penn with one line attached.
Wrong girl.
Then I creeped deeper into the crowd, keeping my eye on him as Harmony left his side and he checked the message. I reveled in the smile that lit up his features. He looked as sexy and alluring as James Bond. Dark hair artfully styled, blue eyes wide and bold, tuxedo crisp and tailored to his incredible build. But it went beyond that. To the casual confidence that had been bred into him. From living in this world with its expectations and scandal and silver spoons.
He was an enigma. It was what had drawn me to him in the first place. The Manhattan royalty playboy who wanted a different life. Who was so much more than what he portrayed to the world. The morality that he so fiercely tried to cultivate. The duality of his character that strove against his upbringing for a better life.
We all stumbled. We didn’t all get back up.
I circled Penn like a lioness stalking her prey.
He might be coming for me. But I was keeping him in my sights. Drawing it out until he got closer.
I turned away for a second to grab another glass of champagne, but when I looked for him again, he was gone.
My eyes widened in surprise and then scanned the room. Where the hell had he gone?
I walked carefully around the perimeter of the club, trying to figure out where I’d lost him. Every guy was in a tuxedo. Everyone was in a mask. That was the point. That was the fun. But I’d thought I had this figured out.
Then I felt strong hands brace my hips, a hot body press into my back, the flush of a breath against my neck. My body tensed at the first brush of his lips against the most sensitive spot behind my ear.
“Found you,” he breathed.
I relaxed back into him. “How did you know it was me?”
“I’d recognize you anywhere.”
“Even with my hair up?” I teased.
My sheet of silvery-white hair was my most telling feature. And I’d purposely had Amy pin it up so that only a few tendrils fell down around my face and over my shoulder. Otherwise I’d have stood out like a spotlight on a dark night.
“I know the way you move,” he said, our hips swaying to the tempo of the music. “My hands know every inch of your body. They long ago memorized your gentle curves.” He slid his hands forward over my hips. “I know the shape of you, the sensuous way you walk, the confidence in every step.”
Something got stuck in my throat at his words. I tried to push it down. Down and away. “Oh?”
“Oh, yes. With your shoulders back, chin up, eyes steady.” His lips trailed down my neck, capturing me completely. “You might not have been born into this world, but you carry yourself as if you belong in every situation. Even when you’re terrified.”
“I’m not terrified,” I said hoarsely.
“Of course not.” He sounded disbelieving.
Maybe he wasn’t a hundred percent wrong. I was afraid of this world, of failing. But I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t.
I turned in his arms and wrapped mine around his neck, staring up into his dark mask. I wanted nothing more than to peel it from his face and look up into his perfect features. But I wouldn’t. Not yet.
“Well, you found me. I guess that means that you can have me.”
“I guess it does.”
“How exactly do you want me?” I purred seductively.
“In every way,” he said seriously.
“Shh,” I said, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t complicate things.”
“Is this all it is then?”
I stared up into those big blue eyes, willing him to see the truth. “Would you be mad if it was?”
He pursed his lips. “This doesn’t feel like you.”
I laughed at his words and ran my hands up into his hair. “Doesn’t it?”
A muscle flickered in his jaw at my nonanswer. Because of course, this wasn’t me. I wasn’t me anymore. That was what this world did to people. It changed them. He was the one who had taught me that. And he’d been right.
“I thought you said that you wanted me,” I told him.
“I do.”
“Just not like this?”
His hands roamed from their position at my hips, up, up, up until his thumbs ran under my breasts. “I want you like this.”
“This is what I want,” I told him. “You said you’d wait for me. However I was.”
“I knew that you’d still be hurt after what happened, but this isn’t exactly…”
I stepped back, aching with the absence of his hands. But Penn was already pulling me back into him.
“You don’t have to play games with me.”
“Who said I was playing games?” My lips coyly curved upward.
“You forget who I am. I know it when I see it.”
“I’m offering myself up, Penn.” I spread my arms wide. “Here I am. Take me.”
“You’re just offering sex,” he corrected.
I lowered my arms with a sigh. “Is it ever just sex with you, Penn?”
His voice turned low and gravelly as he dragged me tight against him. “Not with you.”
Then his lips were against mine. And I forgot about how I had planned to keep him at a distance. I forgot about Amy’s warning that there was no way I could handle Penn Kensington. No one could handle him. It wasn’t possible. I forgot everything.
There was a reason that I’d fallen for him seven years ago on one blissful night in Paris. Why he’d won me over in the Hamptons a year ago. Why I’d never been able to get him out of my system for the next year. Not even while I was dating someone else.
Penn Kensington had ruined me for all other men.
And this one kiss proved that all over again.
Chapter 3
Natalie
Penn’s fingers reached for the satin ribbon of my mask, but I held him back.
“Not yet,” I breathed.
A question lingered on his lips. I wanted to answer that question. The one that said we didn’t need to wait. He’d already found me.
But there was a sensuality…and anonymity to the mask. It made me daring. It brought me back to the giddy feeling I’d had when I was young and innocent and sitting on top of the world. I needed that tonight. I needed it now and every night after if I hoped to survive the Upper East Side.
“Later,” I assured him.
“Now,” he said, stealing another kiss.
I indulged in the sweet taste of him. “Make it worth my while.”
His hand slipped into mine. Our fingers laced together.
“Then let’s get out of here.”
I didn’t have to nod. He could read the answer in my eyes.
Yes.
We glided out of the party as quickly as I’d come. I had no concept of time. Only that the city was packed with New Year’s Eve revelers, spanning out from Times Square and filling the already-crowded streets. Penn flagged down a cab. If I’d been in anything other than a one-of-a-kind Elizabeth Cunningham and Christian Louboutin heels, then I would have said we could brave the walk to his place on the Upper East Side. But it seemed pretty impossible at this point.
The cab crawled inch by inch through the traffic and away from the mayhem. Away fro
m the center of the Big Apple and the ball that would drop in front of the entire world. For years as a girl, I’d stay up late with my sister, Melanie, and later Amy to watch the musical talent and celebrities grace the stage. Now, I was in New York City for the spectacle, and I had no interest in being surrounded by a mass of people in the freezing cold.
Everything looked more glamorous through a lens. The reality was much more lackluster. Like finding out your idol was just a person after all. Making all the same mistakes you’d always made.
“Finally,” Penn muttered once the cab stopped in front of his apartment.
He paid the outrageous fare and then helped me out of the cab. My nerve wavered for a split second. The last time I’d been at his place, I’d found myself there after an argument with Lewis. It should have been one of the many clues that Penn and I couldn’t escape each other. Even when we hadn’t been expressly sexual, I’d still gone to him. He’d provided a means of safety. A circle of trust. Or at least, a semblance of it.
But I couldn’t stop now. And, frankly, I didn’t want to.
There was a reason I’d come here that night. There was a reason I was here now. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure where all of this was heading. I wasn’t sure if I was even ready to make the next move. But I’d be lying to him and myself if I said that I didn’t want something. Despite the anger and pain…I still wanted to find out what that was.
We took the elevator up to his penthouse suite overlooking Central Park. Penn immediately stepped in front of me when it dinged on the top floor.
“Totle!” he called.
And then a ten-pound gray Italian greyhound puppy bounded toward us across the living room. He was all long limbs and awkward proportions. His tail whipped back and forth, and his eyes lit up at the sight of us together.
“I’m going to try to save you from him. He’ll ruin that dress,” he said, snatching up the puppy before he could jump onto me. Penn cradled Totle like an overexcited baby.
“Hey, buddy.” I scratched his head and gave him a big kiss. “You’re just so cute, aren’t you? Is your dad taking good care of you? Or are you deeply neglected and need some time with me?”
Totle answered by licking my face. I laughed and scratched his floppy ears.
“I’m going to take him out real quick. Make yourself at home.”
I nodded and stepped into the apartment while he grabbed Totle’s leash and descended with the puppy. Penn’s place was how I remembered it. Though slightly less messy than the time I had unexpectedly turned up. His worn leather notebook rested on the wooden coffee table next to a fountain pen. His philosophy journal articles had been straightened into a neat pile on the other corner. Nothing was out of place. Which was crazy since he was inherently messy when he was working. He liked to leave coffee cups and whiskey glasses all over the place. Loose paper lying haphazardly across his desk. Books strewn in some order that only his brain could comprehend. Because that brilliant brain of his worked best in a cluttered environment.
For it to be this meticulous, he must have been anticipating taking me home. I’d let him know to meet me at Trinity. A smile quirked on my lips that he’d been so presumptuous. But what could I say? He wasn’t wrong.
I stepped over to the liquor cabinet and retrieved two whiskey glasses. My fingers trailed over the various bottles and decanters before selecting the prettiest bottle and pouring each of us a glass. Liquid courage never hurt anyone.
I carried the drinks back to the neatly arranged coffee table when Penn returned with Totle. My gaze scanned over his features that had been carefully hidden by the mask, which now dangled from his hand. It wasn’t a particularly large mask, but somehow seeing those high cheekbones and bright blue eyes unobstructed was so much more satisfying.
“No mask?” I breathed.
“I got weird looks,” he said as he scooped up the little dog and carried him over to me.
“Fair.”
“I see you took ‘make yourself at home’ literally,” he said, nodding toward the alcohol.
“Can’t blame me.” I scratched behind Totle’s ears, and he nuzzled his head into my hand. “God, he’s so cute.”
“Me or the dog?”
I grinned up at him. “The dog. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Penn repeated.
He set the puppy down on the couch where he promptly curled up into a tiny ball on top of a blanket. His big, dark eyes staring up at us, saying, Love me.
“And now yours,” he said.
His hands moved to the ribbons holding on my own mask, and I let him pull the string, releasing it. He caught the edges of the mask and removed it from my face. And with it, that last line of defense was stripped away. I was bare before him, even still in clothes that adorned my body like armor.
“That’s better.”
“Ah, the physical mask,” I purred as I passed him the glass of bourbon. “So much less potent than the mental ones.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Since when do you wear a mask for anyone?”
“You just took mine off.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, unconvinced.
“Yours comes and goes though.” I took a sip of the bourbon and felt the liquid forge a pathway for the flame.
“Not with you.”
“Ha!” I said with an exaggerated laugh. “When it’s convenient for you.”
“I don’t have one on right now.”
“Good,” I told him, slipping an inch closer and staring up into the face of the man who had tricked me so completely. Who I fought to hate … and forgive … and decide. The face of someone eternally torn between right and wrong.
“Tell me about the last week, Natalie.” His voice was strained.
“What’s to tell?” I asked. I downed another swallow of the liquid.
“Don’t bullshit me. We both know that you went home, messed up from that thing with Katherine. Then I didn’t hear from you until this.”
“So?”
He sighed and set his glass down, untouched. “How are you?”
“As well as expected. How are you?”
I wanted to confide in him about what had happened the last week. What Lewis had done to light my career on fire. The place I’d sunk into to deal with it. And the way I was pulling myself up, hand over hand, to escape it. But I didn’t. I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
“Nat…”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Just talk to me.”
“Or,” I breathed, running my hand up the front of his tuxedo, “we could not talk.”
He chuckled softly. “You’re determined to keep me at a distance.”
“No, I’m not.” And I wasn’t. But I couldn’t do this right now. “It’s New Year’s Eve, Penn. You want to talk feelings. And I want to enjoy the evening.”
“We can’t talk and then enjoy the evening?”
“You got me back to your place. Hasn’t anyone told you not to play with your food?” I said dramatically but with a hint of a smile.
His powerful hands came to my arms. Those long fingers trailed their way up to my shoulders. The pads digging gently into my sensitive skin as he moved to my neck. My throat bobbed as his thumbs dragged from the hollow of my throat up to my chin. He commanded me in that moment, tilting my chin upward and then to the side, exposing my throat to him. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as my pulse jumped in excitement. His thumb lingered along my jawline as he took his time to examine every inch of me before sliding back down the side of my neck.
He dropped one featherlight kiss to the space on my neck he’d just caressed. “Are you saying that I should eat you?”
“Devour me whole,” I breathed, still trapped in his heated gaze.
He didn’t respond, just slipped his hands into his pockets, as he’d done so many times before, and strode in a slow circle around me. I stayed perfectly still. I was no longer the apex predator in the room. And he watched me with complete confidence and all the control.
I’d surrendered it to him when I entered his apartment.
Penn stopped at my back. I didn’t move. Hardly even breathed. Was he going to undress me? Take me right here, right now in my Cunningham dress? Or do nothing?
Sometimes, it amazed me that I knew Penn so well and still couldn’t predict what he was going to do. He kept me on my toes. And while I wanted to give in, a part of me coiled, waiting for the rug-pull. Waiting for this to be a trick, too.
It was the waiting that nearly did me in. I couldn’t relax with someone at my back. I’d had one too many knives stabbed through it.
But then I felt Penn’s hands in my mass of silvery-white hair. My eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him touching me. Something eased in my chest. I breathed out in relief before I realized what he was doing.
A pin pinged on the floor. Then another.
The pins that Amy had carefully put my hair up with earlier that day fell to the ground. And as Penn removed more and more, he loosened the strands of my hair until it fell down to the middle of my back like a waterfall whose dam had been broken. His fingers slid up into the strands, checking to make sure he’d gotten them all. When he was satisfied he slowly massaged my scalp until I was practically swaying with sleep from the relaxation.
He collected all of my hair in one hand and then put it over one of my shoulders. Then he pressed one more kiss into my neck.
“I like it better down.”
My heart thrummed in response. “I don’t wear it up often.”
But he wasn’t finished. He found the zipper on the Cunningham dress and tugged it all the way down. I slid the straps off of my shoulders and let the priceless material fall down my narrow hips to pool at my feet.
“Shoes,” he demanded.
The Louboutins followed. I faced him then in nothing but nude underwear and his crown necklace.
“Better,” he said, his eyes traveling down my naked body. “You don’t need any of that adornment.” He tipped my chin up. “You should always be unbridled with a flair of wildfire. Fearless, all-consuming, and so bright that you burn.”
