After lunch, Kat called in Diana’s help. The ball was two days away, and she needed all the assistance she could get.
* * * *
Diana had booked an appointment with Silvano, the make-up artist and stylist who prepared the models for her shoots. They arrived together at the convent after lunch on Friday, and when Silvano was done with Kat two hours later, she stared at herself in the swivel mirror in her room and liked what she saw. The make-up was dramatic. He had placed the emphasis on her eyes, making the blue color stand out with dark eye shadow and eyeliner. A nude pink lipstick made her lips look fuller. She especially liked what he did with her hair. Her natural curls were dried in waves that fell down her back to her waist. One side was pulled away from her face with the ruby butterfly clip Lann had given her.
While Silvano was at work, Diana gave her a manicure and pedicure. Kat looked at her red finger and toenails in undisguised delight. Diana had helped her shop for a sinfully decadent thong of black chiffon dusted with diamond dots. The dress was one she had bought two years ago on impulse. It was ridiculously expensive, and she had never had an opportunity to wear it. It was one of those creations a girl knew she had to have, even if only to wear once in her life.
Two cross-panels that covered her breasts fastened around her neck. The V in the front almost ended at her navel. The back was open and the skirt tight. It fit like a glove over her hips. From her knees, it flared out slightly. The fabric was a shimmering black, sheer drape mesh.
She pulled on a new pair of beaded, open-heel evening slippers. The stiletto heels lifted her a few inches off the floor, and the way it forced her to walk on tiptoes flexed her calf muscle that showed through the long slit on the side.
Diana clapped her hands to her mouth. “Oh my God, Kat.”
Silvano studied her with his hands on his hips. “Perfect, darling. You look like Grace Kelly with red hair.”
Kat smiled. “Thank you. You guys are the best.”
“Of course I am,” Silvano said.
“You’re missing this.” Diana handed her a shopping bag from an exclusive boutique store.
Kat shot her a questioning look.
“Come on. Don’t keep Silvano in suspense. Open it already!”
Kat removed something wrapped in white tissue paper. She carefully peeled it away to reveal a silver patent leather Saint Laurent evening clutch bag.
“Oh, Diana.”
“Don’t you dare cry,” Silvano said, raising a finger. “I’m not redoing all that eye makeup.”
Kat hugged them both. “I don’t know what to say.”
Diana removed her camera from her bag. “You can say ‘cheese’.” She aimed the lens at Kat and snapped away on continuous mode.
“Did I hear something about champagne?” Silvano cocked his hip.
Lann had indeed told them upon arrival that he had arranged for champagne to get the dressing party going. After Alfonso had brought up a bottle of Krug Clos d’Ambonnay and three chilled flutes, Kat had a glass of bubbly with Diana and Silvano before she dabbed on her perfume and slipped the rose bracelet over her wrist.
“Wow,” Diana said, leaning in for a closer look, “that’s not your average bracelet.”
“It was his mother’s.”
Both Diana and Silvano lifted a brow.
“What?” Kat shrugged.
“You don’t give your mother’s jewelry to someone you don’t care about,” Diana said. “Giving away family jewels is serious.”
“I’m not going to keep it,” Kat said quickly. She shot them a brilliant smile and decided to change the subject. “I think I’m ready.”
“Time for us to say bye-bye,” Silvano cooed. “Have fun, darling.”
Kat rang for Alfonso to escort her friends to the exit and looked at her reflection one last time. Lann had asked her to be ready by eight, and at eight sharp, the door between their bedrooms opened. Lann stood in the frame, dressed in a tux and bowtie. His golden hair was braided down his back, giving him the exotic, sophisticated look Kat loved so much. As his eyes roamed over her, they shone a deep, golden color.
He closed the distance slowly and stopped a step away from her. “I can’t take you out like that.” His voice was hoarse. “I’ll be too busy fighting off the other men, worrying about their eyes.”
“Shall I take that as a compliment?” She smiled up at him.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Katherine.” He offered her his arm. “I am honored.”
* * * *
The ball was held at the Moneda Palace, the seat of the Chilean president, with the wealthiest patrons in attendance. The proceeds would go to a new museum for pre-colonial art. Lann had been invited as one of the country’s foremost antique art donors. When he stepped from the limo and offered Kat a hand, cameras flashed around them.
“So much for not liking to have your photo taken,” she whispered.
He placed his hand on the small of her back. “As much as I hate public events, declining this invitation would have looked too suspicious.” He guided her through the entrance. “Let’s find a quiet corner where I can just stand and admire you.”
They went through the ballroom to a bar at the back.
“Champagne, bella?” he said with his Russian accent.
“Thank you.”
He spoke to the barman and handed her a glass a few seconds later. Their tranquility didn’t last long. A small group of people soon surrounded Lann. Everyone seemed to want to meet him. A tall brunette approached them, her hips swaying in a red creation, a heart-shaped pendant around her neck.
“The elusive Mr. Dréan,” she said. “What’s the weather forecast for today?”
Lann tensed. “Vanessa,” he said, acknowledging her with a nod. “Working?”
“I wish I could say it was pleasure, but...” Her lips tilted seductively. “I see you’ve finally found someone to leash.” Her eyes moved to Kat and to the ring on her left hand.
Lann pulled Kat close to him. “It’s the other way around. She’s got me leashed.”
“It’s not surprising,” Vanessa said, “seeing that she looks so much like your mother. Except that your mother’s hair was blonde.”
Kat stiffened in Lann’s embrace. She felt herself go cold, but instead of giving Vanessa the satisfaction of seeing her shock, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Before Lann could reply, the American ambassador walked up. He shook hands with Lann and introduced himself to Vanessa and Kat.
His eyes lingered on Kat. “May I have the honor of a dance, Miss White?”
Kat didn’t miss the look Lann gave her, or the unspoken warning in his eyes. She smiled politely. “Thank you, but I promised all my dances to one man only.”
The Ambassador patted Lann on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky man,” he said before walking off.
Ignoring Vanessa, Lann took Kat’s glass and left it on the bar. “Since I promised you a dance...”
He pulled her away from Vanessa’s stare onto the dance floor for the waltz that had started. Lann was light on his feet, guiding her effortlessly around the room.
“What was that all about?” Kat said, glancing up at him.
“I’d say the ambassador is smitten with you.” His eyes darkened. “And I’m jealous as hell.”
She gave him a stern look. “I’m talking about Vanessa’s comment.”
“The journalist?”
Kat rolled her eyes. “If she’s a reporter, then yes.”
“She’s got her knife in for me. Wrote a nasty article, tried to do some character damage.”
“Why would she do that?”
He brushed his hand over her back. “It’s her job.”
“Why did she say that I resembled your mother?”
Lann looked down at her. For a second he held her gaze as he studied her. “Because it’s true.”
Kat felt the blood in her veins turn cold. Had Lann sought her out because she looked like his mot
her? Was this some warped childhood psychology bullshit? She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know.
As if reading her mind, he lowered his head and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t ask to have sex with you because you look like my dead mother. That would make me a sick fuck.”
Kat shivered when his palm smoothed all the way down to cup her ass. “And what was the comment about the weather forecast?”
“It’s because of a nickname I don’t particularly care for.”
“What nickname?”
He seemed indecisive as whether to answer her, but after a moment he said, “Weatherman.”
“Weatherman?” She couldn’t keep the amusement from her voice.
“I always get the forecast right. It’s earned me the unfortunate title.” When she kept staring at him, he shrugged. “What? I’m a pilot. It’s my job to know the weather.”
“Besides being a pilot, what else are you?” She pressed her body against his, a little too tight, and smiled when he groaned.
“A businessman. Stop grinding into me or I’ll drag you outside and then your beautiful gown will be ruined.”
She chuckled and pushed into him again.
“Katherine, don’t dare me. I’ve never walked away from one.”
She ignored him, sliding her leg between his, feeling his hardness against her thigh. “What kind of business? And don’t brush me off again because I’m not giving up this time.”
He cursed. “Property investment. Communications.”
She squeezed his ass. “What kind of communications?”
“Web-based.” He suddenly stopped, causing her to almost lose her balance. His arms went around her to steady her. “Enough,” he gritted out. “Time to go home.”
“But we just got here.”
He fixed her with a stare that told her arguing wasn’t an option. His heated gaze traveled over her body, devouring her with an invisible caress. “Let’s go.”
“Only if we’re going to the den.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Why?”
“Because I want to have you everywhere. I want you to remember me in every part of your home.”
“God, Katherine,” he growled low, his fingers pressed into her back, “isn’t it enough that you’re in my head every minute of every day?”
No. Not nearly. She tugged at his hand. “Take me home, Lann.”
* * * *
Inside the convent, he stripped her in the square. Her dress was lying on the floor before they made it to the hallway. Lann hadn’t joked about ruining her gown. Oh well, she wasn’t planning on wearing it for any other man. It was a one-off kind of dress, for a one-off kind of man. Kat gasped as he backed her up against a door, his palms on her naked breasts and his teeth raking down her neck. Her hands slipped under his jacket, pushing it from his shoulders. It fell on the terracotta tiles. When her fingers brushed over his injured skin, he flinched and sucked in his breath.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Maybe we should take it easy.”
His thigh moved between her legs.
“I’m taking it as damn easy as I can,” he gritted out.
His thumbs dipped into the elastic of her thong. “Prekrasnaya. So pretty.”
As he pushed the scrap of material over her hips, his lips moved down her body, finding first the peaks of her breasts and then her stomach. She whimpered as he rained light kisses all over her, ending on her wet folds. Too light. Teasing.
“Lift your feet,” he demanded.
She obeyed, and he freed her of her underwear. Lann stepped back from her. His gaze darkened as his eyes travelled over her. Slowly, he undid his bowtie and let it drop to the floor. Kat watched him advance again while he unbuttoned his shirt. He didn’t remove it, just left it hanging off his well-defined abs. She ached for him, needed him like she would never need anyone ever again.
The cool breeze hardened her nipples. The fact that they were exposed, outside, in clear view of any of the staff who might happen to wake up both mortified and excited her. It was a strange mixture of emotions, teaching her something new about herself. There was so much she was learning under Lann’s skillful hands.
Stopping against her, Lann wrapped his broad palm around her neck. His fingers easily encircled the vulnerable flesh. There was no pressure under his fingertips, only heat. It was a caress of dominance, possession and protection. Lann made her feel all of these things as he moved his palm down, between her breasts, flattening out over her stomach, until he lightly cupped her sex in his hand. Kat heard the sharp intake of her own breath. Studying her, as if measuring her response, he slipped a finger inside her. She cried out at the pleasure, not thinking about where they were any longer. He caressed her with his hand, slow and easy, and she saw her ecstasy reflected in his eyes, the gold deepening as her moans increased.
His other hand moved behind her. She felt him fiddling with the lock, and when the door gave way, his palm was on her lower back. With his body, he moved her forward, walking her inside before he kicked the door shut. They were in the library.
There was no gradual build-up in his kiss as his mouth claimed hers. It was wild and hot, his tongue seeking immediate entrance. He was still backing her up, all the way to the end of the dark hall. The shadows were long in the faint hallway light that fell through the windows. She could smell the familiar scent of ink and paper and leather, and him. Her hands gripped his hair, holding his head to her as he kissed reason and will from her consciousness. They had stopped at the far end, next to the staircase.
He pulled away from her then, his hands braced against the wall on either side of her face. “If I take you upstairs, I’m going to push you, Katherine. Do you trust me?”
She stared at him in the faint light, saw the glow of his eyes, the moistness of his lips, and the harsh lines on his face from passion and lust.
“I’d risk my life with you in a plane anytime,” she whispered, “so why wouldn’t I in your bed?”
“I won’t harm you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His eyes pleaded for her agreement.
She took a deep breath. “I know.”
His smile was almost a grimace, and Kat knew he had a hard time controlling himself. She placed her hand in his. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. He didn’t speak as he picked her up and carried her upstairs to the den.
Inside, he moved her to the center of the floor. “Turn around.”
She turned, facing the bed. Kat listened for his noises, trying to make out what he was doing. It sounded as if a drawer opened. A few seconds later, she felt his body against her back. Something soft brushed over her shoulder. She looked down. A red silk scarf. He folded it double and tied it over her eyes. It was tight, but not uncomfortable. She couldn’t lift her eyelids, and the sudden loss of sight frightened her, but Lann’s hands swept over her shoulders in comforting strokes until her body relaxed once more.
His hands moved down her back and over her arms. He pulled them back, keeping her wrists together in one hand, and then she heard a click, and she was imprisoned by something cold and hard. Handcuffs. Her breathing increased. The feeling of helplessness was liberating. There was nothing she could do but submit herself to Lann’s mercy, to the pleasure he wanted to give her. She felt his warm lips on her spine kissing all the way to her coccyx. His tongue drew small circular patterns there while his thumbs pressed into the muscles just above her ass, stimulating nerve endings that had her go on tiptoe. Her body succumbed to the erotic massage like melting chocolate.
He straightened and rubbed his cheek against hers. “I won’t do anything you won’t like.”
His hands moved over her abdomen, to her back. He gave the cuffs a gentle pull. His finger slipped between her right wrist and the cuff. He repeated the same with her other wrist, and then he was gone. A second later, he inserted something into her ears. Earphones. Classical music. Beethoven, Symphony 5. All of her senses except for touch were cut off now. She couldn’t see or hear him any longer. He
thrust Kat forward until her thighs collided with something. The bed. His hands were on her waist. She knew what he wanted. She got onto the bed, kneeling. The mattress dented next to her. Was he on the bed with her? She felt his warm hand on the back of her neck, pushing her down. There was something soft under her stomach, lifting her body. Pillows. She turned her head sideways to be able to breathe. For a while, there was nothing, no Lann, only the music and the dark. Was he undressing?
The mattress moved again. Her body trembled with anticipation. Something cold slid between her ass cheeks. She jerked at the sensation. A liquid? Immediately Lann’s finger was there, warm, reassuring, working the substance down and... Kat gasped. She squirmed when she felt him at her dark entrance. His palm flattened on her ass, stroking, massaging, until she relaxed for him again. Then she felt something else, cold, hard, at that forbidden opening. She tensed instinctively as she understood his intention. This time his hand was stroking over her lower back, his fingers calming, and with effort she allowed her body to soften once more. He squeezed her shoulder. And then the object penetrated her. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable. The sensation was strange.
While one hand pressed down on her back, the other moved to her folds, parting them and drawing through her juices. He massaged her gently, up and down, the contact on her clit slipping and returning. It was a long, easy and torturous build-up. As the music pumped loudly through her brain, she felt him work her up and bring her back down to the crescendo and decrescendo of the symphony.
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, when the piano broke over the fourth movement, Lann’s fingers pushed inside her. With the toy inside her, she felt stretched, and she would have come for him then, if he hadn’t stopped moving. Desperate, she pushed up, but he pressed her back down on the bed. And then his contact was gone again. She whimpered, pushing her aching clit to the cool, silk sheets. He was going to do this at his pace. He was in control, she reminded herself.
She felt him grip her arms, bending them at the elbows to move them up. The mattress shifted. His cock was at her entrance. She cried out as he took her to the hilt with one strong movement. With the toy inside her, the feeling was overwhelming. His cock was thick, and she thought she was going to pass out from the pleasure. She couldn’t hear her own moans, but she knew they were loud as Lann pumped in and out of her to the beat of the music, fast, hard, until she was sure that she was begging. The music phased out. No. She knew what was going to follow. He stilled. Her heart was beating so furiously it was painful. Her breath chased and ached in her chest.
Aeromancist: The Beginning Page 12
