by Elle Thorne
She couldn’t give him her name. She wracked her brain to come up with a name. The only ones she could come up with were Arceneaux and Tiero names, and there was no way she could use either of those. She’d be caught in a heartbeat.
“Delaney Devereaux.” What the hell? She surely wasn’t good at improvisation.
“Ms. Devereaux.” He used his pen as a marker and checked each name in the letter D column.
Natalya tapped her foot as if she was in a hurry and impatient to get inside.
He ran through the whole column again. “I’m sorry, Ms. Devereaux. I don’t see your name.”
“Then perhaps you should go check with Lézare Arceneaux. He personally sent me an invitation.”
Beneath the man’s mask, his lips drew into a tight line, then curved into a forced smile. He looked around. “I’m not sure I should leave my post.”
“It’s your decision. I don’t care if you piss Lézare off and he never uses your company again.”
“I’ll be right back.” He spun around and slipped through the front door.
Natalya waited until he was out of sight, then picked up her skirts and darted as fast as her heels could carry her toward a set of French doors on the other side of the veranda.
She shimmied past a couple that was embracing and leaned against the wall.
Whew.
She was inside!
The room was semi-dark lit only with candles. It didn’t take any time to adjust, with her shifter vision. The glow from the candles bathed the shifters in a golden glow. A massive chandelier hung from the center of the chamber, capturing and reflecting light from the candles, almost creating an old-school disco ball.
Natalya walked a few paces toward the walls lined with long windows, alternating with French doors that opened to the back, presenting an extravagant maze with ten-foot tall hedges, a fountain surrounded by shifters sitting on the edge, moving in and out of the shadows as they made their way to the main house, stealing kisses on occasion. To the side was a courtyard with a gazebo in the center, lit up with tiny lights.
She turned back toward the center of the room, and surveyed the surroundings. An orchestra played in the far corner, entertaining the opulently dressed guests.
A tingle rushed through her, strumming her nerve endings.
Lézare. She knew it was he who was causing it. He’d done the very same thing to her the last time she’d seen him.
That wasn’t the day he’d told her with a gleam in his eyes that he’d spank her derrière.
No, she’d seen him one other time, when she was in Dallas. She’d followed the Tiero sisters and Alexa when they’d gone on a shopping spree and then they’d met up with their brother Lézare.
She’d watched him from across the street, rememorizing every muscle on his hard body, the tilt of his head when he laughed, the curve of his full lips when he smiled, the way his eyes studied the room, always on guard.
She’d even noticed the way he kept glancing around, his gaze sticking in her general direction as though he’d sensed something or someone was there.
Oh, yes. That man was branded on her memory as surely as if she’d been marked with a cattle brand.
In the spacious Arceneaux ballroom, she stayed half-tucked behind a curtain, surveying the room.
It was the size of a gym, shifters mingling with each other, men in tuxedos in a variety of colors, the ladies resplendent in all hues of the color palette. Masks covered their faces.
Natalya was happy she could hide behind her mask; without it the Arceneaux sisters would probably rip her hair out.
Or sever my jugular. Especially Alexa. She clearly didn’t take a liking to me.
She wouldn’t have been surprised if the Tiero sisters did the same. Once they’d figured out her fake kidnapping, they’d spurned her the one and only time she’d seen them again, when she’d visited Dallas.
Natalya had wanted to tell them she was sorry. She’d followed them, hoping to get a moment with them. But the way Alexa, the Tiero sisters and Callie had all laughed and carried on had made her turn chicken.
Then when they’d seen her, and looked right past her, as if she wasn’t even alive… how could she have talked to them then?
It’s hard to do that when someone looks right past you as if you’re not even there.
She looked at the men, studying each one to see if that was Lézare behind the mask, but she saw no sign of him. He was here, though. He had to be. She felt that same tingling sensation anytime he was within a few yards of her.
She glanced around, her eyes taking in the room, traveling from man to man.
Where is he?
Chapter Nine
Itchy. Irritating.
Lézare fiddled with the mask he’d donned for the masquerade ball. He wasn’t fond of wearing them, never had been. They were his least favorite part of the ball. He did enjoy the ladies wearing masks, though, and dresses that hugged their curves.
He wove his way among the guests.
His tiger growled.
Lézare froze. A sensation flowed through his body, coursing over his flesh like a feathery caress, then making his nerve endings feel like they were on fire, dipped into hot candle wax during the most intimate of moments. He fought the shiver that threatened his body.
Someone here was getting his tiger’s attention, and by default, seizing control of Lézare’s own body, making him react in a way that pushed him toward the cliff, near the tempting fires of the abyss of lust.
He allowed his tiger’s senses to take over, more accurate as a radar than his own human senses. The tiger focused, scanning the room, finding the source in a dark corner. Lézare turned, ready to find the cause of the energy that was searing his center.
A hand on his shoulder stopped him.
Lézare turned to face the one obstructing him from his mission.
“Alexa.” He glanced away from his sister, toward the French doors in the corner.
A figure, curvy and voluptuous in black with a touch of gold, slipped toward the depths of the ballroom with her back to him. His eyes took note of the sway of her hips and the curve of her ass with every step she took until he could see no more, completely barred from that glorious view by other guests.
Alexa tapped him on the shoulder. “I thought we were going to talk?”
“Yes.” He chanced a look for the creature in black and gold.
No sign of the woman.
He wiped the scowl from his face before he turned toward his sister once more. “Yes. Sorry.” He looked over her shoulder, scanning the crowd for the woman. “Are you having fun?”
Alexa didn’t answer him.
Lézare pinned her with his gaze. Now she was the distracted one. “Alexa.”
She looked his way. “Yes. Sorry.” Her words mimicked his, but she seemed suddenly distracted. “Who is that?” She nodded toward the center of the room with a slight tip of her head.
He turned toward the crowd. “Who? Is someone being a problem? Do I need to get them out of here?”
“No!” Her answer was sharp. “Sorry. No. The tall guy. The hot one.”
He scanned the group. Who the hell was she talking about?
She yanked on his sleeve impatiently. “The one with short hair.”
“That’s Reese.” Lézare took stock of the expression on her face. “Alexa. Seriously?”
“What?” Her voice was too high, too innocent.
Lézare shook his head, holding back a smile. “Nothing.”
“Reese Nielsen?”
“Yeah.” Was this what his sister had brought him away from the vixen in black and gold for? Would she know who the woman was? He didn’t want to give away that he was interested in someone. He typically played it much closer to the vest, even with his nearest and dearest sister. “So, I think I’m going to sink into some fun.”
“You never said why you had to leave.”
Of course I didn’t, because you can’t stand Natalya, and if you kne
w I’d left you here with all this responsibility so I could try to help find her, you’d be pissed.
“Nothing worth talking about during the party. Just a business associate who needed help with something.”
“With what?”
“He lost something.”
She gave him a sideways glance.
He needed to get her off that topic. “How was today? Any drama?”
“No. Not really. Well, sort of. Callie thought she had a contraction.”
Lézare’s eyes flew toward Vax’s mate.
“She’s fine,” Alexa reassured him. “She thinks maybe it was something she ate.”
“Merde!” Shit. “It’s good that Doc and Mae are here.”
“Tell me about it. You weren’t here, and I was juggling the temporary help, trying to keep them out of Maylene’s way. She’s flustered. She said next year she’s taking her vacation during this week.”
Lézare laughed. Maylene threatened the same thing every year.
“Anything else?” He noticed her eyes hadn’t strayed far from Reese Nielsen for more than a few seconds.
“Not at the moment.”
“Why don’t you approach him?”
“What?” She turned her gaze his way, her eyes piercing his, as if she were trying to determine whether he was serious or picking on her. “No. I…”
“It’s okay, Alexandria.” Lézare knew the things she wouldn’t say. Alexa didn’t trust men. She might look and admire, but she kept them at arm’s length.
She nodded, a stiff smile on her lips. Would she ever be comfortable enough to address that matter? Or would she forever be without a mate?
Like me.
Lézare didn’t want to be without a mate. Hell, no. He was more than ready—and the one he wanted had never left his mind.
His tiger roared.
Fine. Okay. True. She never left my mind until I saw that woman tonight.
How could he be attracted to a woman he hadn’t even talked to? He hadn’t even seen her face. All he’d seen was a body that was c’est magnifique.
“I think I’ll go check on things.” He planted a quick kiss on his sister’s cheek. “See you soon.” Then he darted away, slipping through the throngs of revelers, making a direct line toward the corner the black-and-gold-clad beauty had been in.
Once he was in the corner, Lézare took a deep breath, hoping he’d find some scent, some trace of her.
He found nothing.
He followed the same direction she’d taken, hoping he would have more luck.
Why am I in such a hurry? It’s not like I don’t have twelve hours until brunch.
Nothing would end until brunch. That was when the attendees would all disband and go home. Surely he’d find her before then.
Unless another shifter sets his mind to having her.
His pulse sped up, his strides lengthened.
He wasn’t having that.
Chapter Ten
Natalya knew Lézare was there before she saw him, before her shifter hearing picked up the timbre of his voice. She knew because that sensation that struck her body whenever he was around happened again, just like it always did.
Voltage surged throughout her body, lighting her nerve endings on fire, leaving her breathless and with a racing pulse.
She glanced around the mostly filled-to-capacity ballroom. So many men, all of them in suits and masks. So many women in long dresses, also masked. Could she find him in here? Would she be able to?
It was as if there were a divining rod in play, for her eyes were pulled toward him like magic.
There he was, off to the right, talking to a masked redhead.
She felt his scrutiny; like a predator’s, it traveled through the room, then settled on Natalya, passed over her, hesitated, and returned to her. Even in the dark room, even with dozens of people milling about and the music playing loudly, she could still feel the warmth of his scrutiny.
His eyes strayed back to her repeatedly while he conversed with the redheaded woman.
Natalya knew that red hair—his sister Alexa. Just one of the Arceneaux who hated her.
Why am I here? It’s not like he’ll want me. It’s not like his family will ever like me.
A sob at the futility of being here seized in her throat. She needed to get out before she became emotional and a room full of shifters picked up on it and began to search for the source.
Natalya bolted away from the crowd, following the wall, going as far from the front door as she could, far away from the doorman who would recognize and remember her.
And kick me out.
Which wasn’t something she was ready to have happen, even though she didn’t feel like she belonged and was certain that if she was recognized she’d be sent packing.
I’ll be lucky if that’s all Alexa does to me.
She expected Alexa to tar and feather her, especially since she was well aware how much trouble she’d caused for Lézare.
Natalya stuck to the walls, going around the perimeter of the room, avoiding the dance floor and the throngs of people there, until finally she found a set of double doors and slipped out.
She was on a balcony, overlooking a large maze in front of her, a gazebo off to one side, and a magnificent lighted fountain on the other side of the maze. The maze was occupied with shifters seeking their way through the tall passages.
The gazebo was empty. That was her destination. A bit of privacy where she could reclaim her composure and maybe even talk some sense into herself.
Natalya wove a path among a collection of couples, all shifters, all very involved with each other, holding hands and kissing, laughing gently. Their sounds were sensuous and low, gentle lullabies that merged with the sounds of crickets and distant bullfrogs. Those should be comforting sounds; they should make her happy to be amongst such merriment, amongst shifters finding their enjoyment and even their mates at the event.
She couldn’t find enjoyment. She was tormented by her thoughts. All she could think of was that Lézare would find a woman who would make him laugh a husky laugh, touch him with lust, kiss him with passion, and who knew what else. And that whoever he found would not be her.
I’m such a fool.
So leave then, fool, she rebuked herself.
But like a moth drawn to a flame, she couldn’t. She wanted to see him again, later, when she’d regained self-control and her emotions wouldn’t get the best of her. She wanted to memorize the way he looked when he laughed, the tilt of his head, the curve of his smile, his broad shoulders and wide chest. That short hair and beautifully-hued skin of his.
She sighed.
“Tell me his name and I’ll make him pay,” said a voice close to her ear.
She half-jumped and half-flinched. Then she put her hand on her chest.
The words were low, sensual, husky, exactly what she’d wanted, and they were delivered by the very man she wanted.
Lézare.
Would he recognize her voice if she spoke? Everything he’d heard her say had been screamed and yelled several months ago. She’d never stopped to talk to him, not really talk; there’d only been yelling, snapping, and even whining.
* * *
Lézare had found her: the mystery woman in black trimmed with gold. She was in the gazebo, facing away from him. He could tell from her body language that she was unhappy.
Then she sighed.
He heard that sigh from more than a dozen paces away and was grateful for his shifter hearing. With tiger-quick speed he was upon her, unnoticed.
He leaned in, inhaling her womanly essence, but not picking up any sign of her shifter scent. Of course she was a shifter; who or what else would dare come to a shifter ball?
“Tell me his name and I’ll make him pay.” He spoke the words close to her ear.
She jumped and jerked away, still not facing him.
“I apologize. I didn’ mean to scare you.” He studied the voluptuous body sheathed in the black dress. It showcased
her curves, emphasizing a full bust and full hips that tapered in to her waist.
Something about her figure reminded him…
No, it can’t be.
She cleared her throat and turned to face him. Dark green eyes were framed by blonde eyelashes.
Those eyes.
He glanced at her lips. Her teeth had captured the bottom one and were worrying it.
“Keep that up and you’ll make it bleed.” He raised a thumb to her mouth and freed her lip from its captivity.
He didn’t move his thumb, instead leaving it resting on the slightly swollen pink flesh while his fingers curled under her chin. He felt her pulse as surely as he felt his own throbbing in his body. Her pulse began a race that was matching his own.
The music coming from the house, the sounds of merriment from the balcony, the sounds of the Louisiana woods just beyond their manicured lawn… all of it faded away. It was as if he were being sucked into a whirlpool, except that she was there with him, and they were standing still.
This sensation—he knew he’d experienced it before.
His tiger roared in his head.
The scent wasn’t there. She was wearing block. But she’d received the invitation.
And she’d come.
His tiger chuffed with pleasure.
Natalya had come.
He’d hoped that what he felt when he’d had seen her last wasn’t one-sided. But why was she hiding her identity? Why the block? Why not come through the front door and announce herself?
It doesn’t matter. She’s here. That’s all that matters.
* * *
Lézare’s thumb was on her lip. How she wanted to take it in her mouth, to taste it, to feel its texture against her tongue. She closed her eyes, sure that when she opened them he’d be gone.
“A dance?” His words were a low whisper, so low that only her shifter hearing could pick them up.
She swallowed. This was the moment. She hoped her voice wouldn’t crack like a teenager’s, or worse, sound like a toad’s.
“Here?” She managed to let the word out with a breath.
“I can’ think of a more magical place, chère.”
