by Linda Verji
"Misha?" Eric Ingram, Katherine Wilde’s assistant’s loosely clasped her wrist. "Can I talk to you?"
"What’s up?" Misha turned to the brown-haired man. If Misha was into short guys, Eric would definitely have made the list. He had the tanned good-looks of a sun-kissed surfer who’d mistakenly stumbled into this gallery. Instead of a tux, he’d paired a dark jacket with almost matching pants and a red shirt. Judging by the high-nosed look Nancy Gilbert gave his mismatched pants, the other guests had noted that he didn't fit in with them.
"Not here." Eric’s voice lowered as he added, "I might have a story for you."
Misha's instincts immediately sprang into alertness. Something about Eric's intent expression said that the story was a lot more than gossip about Katherine's perfume. It was something really juicy. And she was interested. Very interested.
Unfortunately, she couldn't do a story about Katherine Wilde. Everyone already knew that the two of them couldn't stand each other. Any story Misha did on the woman's family would look more like spite than actual truth-telling.
So with a heavy heart, Misha started, "Eric, I'm sorry I can't-"
Eric cut her off before she could finish. "At least hear me out."
"No. Thank you." She offered, "But I can give you the contacts of someone who might be able to help."
But Eric refused to be dissuaded. Digging into the inside pocket and extracting a notepad and pen, he coerced, "Once you hear what I’ve got you can decide if you want it. This is my number." He scribbled on the notepad. "Call me."
He ripped the paper from the notepad and held it out. Misha was about to tell him she didn’t want it when someone bumped into her from behind. The sound of glass shattering echoed behind her as the bump thrust her towards Eric. Eric’s eyes widened with horror and he raised his hands to fend Misha off. Instead his hands landed on her breasts.
CHAPTER 3
Misha didn’t know which was worse; the sudden quiet that enveloped the whole party, the cold liquid soaking into the back of her dress, the splinters of glass littered at her feet, or that Eric still had his hands on her breasts in full view of everyone.
Eric released her like he’d just touched fire. "Sorry."
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" someone rattled behind her. Misha turned to find a salt and pepper haired man staring in stunned shock at her dress, the now empty tray clutched in his hand. "I'm so sorry, Miss Alexander."
Misha immediately recognized him as Pip, the Wildes’ butler. A thin sallow-faced man, Pip had an accent that betrayed him as British as he exclaimed, "Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!"
Pip had been with the Wildes for as long as Misha could remember, yet in all that time she’d never seen him quite as flustered as he was now. "Oh dear! Oh dear!"
"It’s all right, Pip," Misha reassured, though it wasn’t. She could already feel the chill of wearing wet clothing seeping into her bones and was quite sure there was a shard of glass lodged in her ankle. But her response seemed to have pumped life back into the crowd because the room began to pulse again and the chatter started up again. Several people came forward to help.
Angela Rumsford called out, "Are you okay, Misha?"
"Of course she’s not." Bradley Wilde exclaimed, removing his satin handkerchief from the pocket of his tux and shaking it out. "Let me get that for you."
"Oh no, thank you, Bradley." Misha skirted from his touch. She’d been mauled enough for one day, thank you very much. Unfortunately not everyone could be eluded that easily and soon Misha had a small crowd of people surrounding her, presumably to help. In the milieu of that whole commotion, Misha forgot about Eric. It wasn’t until she’d managed to convince everyone that she could handle her dress on her own that she remembered him. But Eric was nowhere to be seen.
Neither was Danny.
Misha knew that if he’d been in the gallery, he would’ve been the first at her side. The thought of him enclosed in a space with Katherine Wilde, flirting – or more-, was enough to make the bile rise in Misha’s throat.
Perhaps it was her sour expression that made Pip launch once more into effusive apology. "I'm really sorry Miss Alexander. I didn’t mean to ruin your dress."
"It’s Misha. And I know you didn’t," Misha reassured as she gathered the train of her dress up in one hand and followed him up the stairs. "Besides, the dress isn’t ruined. It just needs to be wiped and dried."
Their footsteps sunk noiselessly into the wall-to-wall tan carpeting as they emerged into a dim long corridor lined with portraits of the Wildes over the generations. Misha’s eyes glided over a few of them. She noted with humor that Bradley’s large hooked nose was an heirloom and that Lauren was lucky she hadn’t inherited that family trait.
Compared to the stuffy perfumed warmth of the gallery, the hallway was cool and airy. She shivered slightly, the chill reminding her of the wet fabric plastered against her back.
Pip stopped in front of one of the doors. Turning the doorknob to reveal an even dimmer room, he said, "Would you like me to get you one of Miss Lauren’s dresses to change into while you dry it?"
"I’d have to wear it on my head." A sound of humor escaped Misha as she added, "I doubt anything Lauren has could fit me."
"Oh! Of course." Though Pip’s face was flushed a healthy red, his voice was as he said, "The blow-dryer is right in the bathroom."
"Thank you, Pip." Misha smiled as she dismissed him.
Pip couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Honestly, you’d have thought she was a monster about to roast him over a campfire just for accidentally tipping wine on her dress. He probably got all that jitteriness because of working for the Wildes for so long. Katherine wasn’t exactly known for treating the people who worked for her well.
Misha flicked the light switch bathing the bedroom in soft light. Mimicking the general opulence of the Wilde home, this room would've been the envy of any five-star hotel. From the large circular bed that dominated the room, to the silver drapes that lined the floor to ceiling windows, to the large plasma TV sitting dark and silent above a faux fireplace across from the bed.
She crossed the room to what she thought was the en-suite only to find that she’d walked into the walk-in closet. She exited it, searching the room for another door. This time when she found it, it was the right one.
As with the bedroom, the bathroom was a picture of luxurious elegance, lined entirely in peach marble, ceramic, glass and dark wood. Misha closed the door but when she tried to lock it found no key in the keyhole. Figuring that she was alone up here anyway, she set her clutch purse on the counter then stepped out of the dress. Because her dress was so tight and came with its own underwire bra, she’d worn it with only flesh colored pasties and a thong to prevent a visible panty-line.
She spread her dress on the counter then reached for a towel from the gilded rack. After dousing the towel with water and wringing it of the excess she rubbed it over her dress. The dress was still wet enough that she wasn’t sure if the wine would leave a stain or not. She hoped that by wiping it down with water, there wouldn’t be one. But if there was – she’d just borrow Danny’s coat.
Speaking of – where was Danny?
She reached for her bag – and by extension her phone – but then changed her mind. She would call him when she wasn’t so naked. After dabbing at the wetted parts of the dress, she grabbed the hair-dryer and set it on high. Loud buzzing filled the bathroom as she dried her dress blocking any outside noise. She’d just set the dryer back in its rack beside the sink when all over sudden the door flew open.
Instinctively Misha whirled around, snatching her dress up as she went. Danny barged into the room just as she pinned the dress in front of her.
"Shit," he exclaimed as he violently shut the door and pressed his back to it.
"What the hell, Danny?" Misha exclaimed noting how disheveled he looked. His hair was a rugged mess, his bowtie was missing and his shirt was open at the throat.
And that’s when he noticed her.
"Daaaniel," Katherine’s throaty voice called out from the hallway.
It was enough to snap Danny out of his perusal. Panic suffused his expression as his eyes flew up to meet Misha’s. He pressed his finger to his lips as he mimed, Shh.
Katherine? Misha mimed back, her own raging hormones abruptly cooling at the possibility of Katherine walking in on her practically naked.
Danny nodded just as Katherine’s voice echoed from the bedroom, "Daniel, are you in here?"
Help. He mimed before turning his attention to the keyhole. Finding it empty, he turned his frantic gaze back to Misha.
I can't. She answered his silent plea.
"Daniel, are you hiding from me?" Katherine's giggles edged closer to the bathroom door. "You naughty boy."
Misha didn’t know whether to laugh or be mad at Danny for finding himself in this position. Humor won out and her lips quirked in amusement. Noting her amusement, Daniel narrowed his eyes and mimed, Not funny.
"Daniel?" Katherine was somewhere in the vicinity of the walk-in closet.
What was he going to do? Misha’s grin widened as she motioned towards the door with her head. Get out. She’s waiting. There was no way Misha was getting caught in the crossfire between him and his cougar.
No. Danny shook his head. He spun his finger in circles next to his temple as he mimed. She’s crazy.
Not my problem. Misha shrugged. The motion lifted her shoulders, and her breasts, once more drawing Danny’s attention there for a few seconds. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes turned contemplative.
And even before he did it, she knew he was going to do it.
No. Don’t you dare. Misha took a step back, but Danny moved faster. With one swift move, he was standing in front of her, spinning his arms around her waist, pushing her back against the counter and crowding his body against hers. Danny, no. Misha insisted as she squirmed in his arms, trying to push him off of her without letting go of the dress.
"Danny," Katherine trilled just as the doorknob started turning.
Sorry, he mimed before he lowered his head and plastered his mouth over Misha's.
CHAPTER 4
It was supposed to be a cover; a backup plan in case Katherine walked into the bathroom. But the moment Danny touched his lips to Misha’s all his innocent intentions went up in flames and his world tilted on its axis.
He expected her to resist; to slap him; to punch him - anything to extinguish the fire that instantly consumed his common sense. Instead she stiffened, her eyes widened in shock while her mouth remained slack beneath his. When he suckled at her bottom lip, the look in her eyes changed. There was no missing the heated glazing in their hazel depths and their gradual hooding. There was no mistaking it.
Arousal.
It wasn’t supposed to be a real kiss, but the feel of those soft lips tentatively moving over his was his undoing. And when she parted them in a sharp intake of breath, he was lost. Without a second thought he dipped his tongue in – and found his way to her.
It felt like coming home.
He closed his eyes, slanted his lips harder over hers and sank into everything Misha. The taste of her; like an intoxicating drug laced with champagne. The smell of her; citrusy and sweet. The feel of her body; warm, curvy and pliable. He let himself drown in all of it. Desire took full control of him and he gathered her even closer to him as he explored her mouth. He’d denied himself too long and his subconscious was determined to take full advantage of this opportunity.
She drove him crazy with her response, meeting his kiss with a sigh of surrender that seared straight to his heart. Her sweet tongue teased his senses with their seductive flicks against his. She dragged him to the precipice of insanity with her soft play of her lips on his.
Ah! The kiss was good.
So good his breath was trapped in his throat as he devoured her.
So good the blood immediately rushed from his brain to his cock.
So good he thought his eyes would cross if he didn’t get more of her.
With one hand, he tunneled into her hair, holding her head steady as he plundered her lips. His other hand flexed over her waist, squeezing her smooth skin in time to the dance of their tongues. Her arms between them, still holding the dress to her body, kept her from touching him. But the somewhat awkward position posed little deterrent. She arched her body into his, rocking her feminine softness against his hard length. Danny let out a shockingly primal growl from low in his throat as he pushed his fast burgeoning erection to her stomach.
He needed more. He needed more than this maddening teasing. He needed to feel her body completely against his. Danny reached between them for her dress…
"What are you doing here?" The shrill words seeped through the veil of lust that had eclipsed Danny, like a hazy shadow he wasn’t interested in revealing. Part of him thought the words might be for them but he didn’t care. He snuck his tongue back into Misha’s mouth again for another sweet taste as he captured the soft fabric between them. Katherine added, "You’re not allowed up here."
"I’m looking for Misha Alexander," a male voice returned. The mention of Misha’s name was enough to pierce through Danny’s subconscious. He tore his lips from Misha's as his eyes flew open to meet hers. Her gaze was shadowed and her lips swollen as if she was just rising from an erotic dream .
"Misha?" Katherine asked. "Why?"
Misha’s eyes widened in silent panic and skittered past Danny’s shoulder as she, like Danny, realized that the reason they could hear the voices so clearly was because the door was half open. Danny crowded closer to Misha to hide her in case Katherine or whoever she was talking to chose to enter the room at that moment.
"Why?" The man laughed. "You know why."
Both the man’s voice and laugh seemed familiar but for the life of him Danny couldn’t figure out who he was; probably because every inch of his body was still throbbing with need for Misha. He looked down at the subject of his sexual frustration to find her looking up at him, muted desire still glittering in her eyes.
His breath caught when her pink tongue peaked between her lips and she licked the soft flesh there as if trying to gather one last taste him. Danny had to turn his head away from her to keep from dipping back for another kiss. Not that the view that met him, courtesy of the floor to ceiling mirror that covered the west wall, helped at all.
Her dress was barely a shield from the front, but from the side it was nothing. He could see everything; the shape of one heavy breast, his hand against the enticing dip of her waist, the curve of her ass, her long, long legs.
His cock responded to the view predictably. It pushed against his fly, growing another inch. It took Herculean effort for him not to move his hands upwards to measure her tit or downwards so he could palm her ass.
Turning his gaze away from the mirror, he shifted his hands from Misha’s body to the counter on either side of her. His fingers dug into the granite as he moved slightly away from her to create space between their bodies. He drew in careful breaths, trying to cool his rampant ardor, but only managed to draw in more of her intoxicating scent.
Move away from her. His brain reminded him of all the reasons why being so close to Misha was a bad idea. She wasn't his - she'd made that clear enough. But his protective instincts battled back. If he moved away anyone walking in would have full view of Misha. So he stayed close to her, tormenting himself further as the conversation beyond the door persisted.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eric," Katherine said, clearing up the identity of the
other person in the room.
"Really?" Eric asked. There was a long pause which Danny took advantage of to lean closer to Misha and inhale her scent, gorging on its citrusy sweetness. His nearness must have had an effect on Misha because she let out a gush of breath and arched her body towards him. The brush of her body against his was like throwing a candle into a gasoline soaked room.
Danny edged closer to her. He fit himself once more against her; his chest on her folded arms, his erect cock on her stomach and his thighs bracketing hers. He turned his head towards her, nuzzling into her neck; an action that earned him a low moan from her that went straight to his groin. In their new position it was hard to listen to the conversation, but somehow a few words made it through.
Eric continued, "I know you took my money. And if you don’t give it back, I swear I’ll give Misha Alexander everything I’ve got."
What? Danny lifted his head from the crook of Misha’s neck to meet her gaze. Money? Misha mimed, her brow rising in question. Danny shrugged. He didn’t feel like trying to figure out the nuances of the conversation they were listening to. He was more interested in Misha’s lips, coated by a wet sheen as if she’d just licked them.
Helpless to stop himself, he reached to smooth his thumb across their velvety surface but Misha turned her head away before he could. Her eyes focused somewhere beyond him and lit up in interest. Danny almost groaned aloud. He knew that look. It was her ‘Nosy Alexander’ look.
"Don’t threaten me?" Katherine shrieked. "Do you know who I am?"
"Oh, I know who you are. I know who you all are." Eric’s voice lowered to a menacing growl. "And if I don’t get the rest of my money by the end of the night, so will the rest of the world."
"Eric, Eric. Get back here," Katherine called out as her voice seemed to drift farther and farther away from the bathroom door. "Eric, Eric, Eric…" Her voice faded into nothingness.
