Last Kiss

by Dominique Adair

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  Last Kiss

  An Ellora’s Cave Electronic Publication in association with author

  Dominique Adair

  ISBN # 1-84360-054-4

  All Rights Reserved. http://www.ellorascave.com

  © Copyright Dominique Adair, 2001.

  Ellora’s Cave

  P.O. Box 28041

  Edinburgh

  EH16 6WW

  Scotland, U.K.

  This book/e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author and publisher permission.

  Edited by Tina Engler

  To Raelene, Francine, Cheetah, Bubba and

  the rest of the girls – wherever you are…

  "I suppose they like me because I bring romance

  into their life for a few moments."

  – Rudolph Valentino

  Chapter 1

  Somewhere in Colorado

  It’s show time!

  Butterflies crowded Elaine Nichols’ stomach as she climbed out of the limousine, ever mindful of her long skirt. The last thing she wanted was to land in a heap upon her arrival. Retrieving her small overnight case, she shut the door. Stepping to the side, she watched as the car pulled away, wondering if she shouldn’t run after it, jump inside, and go back to the airport.

  Do not pass go; do not collect two hundred dollars.

  No, this was something she wanted to do. Scratch that; make it Had To Do. She had to pay taxes, be a good person, pay her bills, keep a roof over her head, and have sex with a stranger.

  Though not necessarily in that order.

  After ensuring that her half-mask still shielded her face, she straightened her spine and smoothed her damp palms over the form-fitting evening dress. Standing before her mirror at the hotel where she’d been taken upon landing in Denver last night, she’d pondered her decision to wear the body-skimming Vera Wang dress. Now, having left the dubious sanctuary of her hired car, she wished she’d worn the silk pantsuit she’d first selected. It hid more flaws than the dress.

  A Rolls Royce pulled up and Elaine eyed the woman who exited the car. A brilliant gold half-mask concealed her face, but not her flame-red hair and sheer, black Versace dress. It was obvious the newcomer wore nothing underneath.

  Yes, she’d chosen well if somewhat modestly, in comparison. Besides, who would wear a pantsuit, even a Dior original, when coming to a party to seduce a total stranger?

  The Rolls pulled away and a silver Audi took its place as she quelled a nervous laugh. That was what they all were here for. Sex. And lots of it.

  She tugged her thin shawl tighter around her shoulders and took a deep breath. Rubbing her hand over her stomach, she picked up her skirt and ascended the steps leading to the front door.

  The house resembled an English castle though it boasted a multitude of lighted windows overlooking the curved drive. Discreet landscaping and an abundance of blooming roses, columbine, and impatiens added a splash of color against the severe gray stone of the house. Illuminated by the flicker of tiki-style torches, it looked warm and welcoming.

  As she neared the entrance, a man standing by the door turned to her. Dressed in a formal tuxedo—Armani if she wasn’t mistaken—his gaze was impersonal.

  “Your invitation, Madame?”

  “Oh, yes.” Flustered, she turned and loosened her shawl to bare her shoulder with the small white rabbit painted on her skin. “I was invited by the host, Dirk Pren-“

  “No last names,” he interrupted. “Anonymity is key here. We want the guests to feel welcome so we only use first names and you may call me Nigel.” His expression changed from cool to welcoming. “You must be Miss Elaine. Mr. Dirk told me to watch for you.”

  She tugged her shawl back into place. “It’s very nice to meet you, Nigel.”

  He smiled as if her words amused him. “Your luggage arrived several hours ago and was delivered to your room. If you’ll permit me, I will escort you there now so you may freshen up from your drive.”

  Elaine bit back a smile as he held out his arm toward her. He looked to be a bit younger than her own forty-one years, but his manners bespoke of a time long since dead. “Thank you, I’d appreciate that.”

  Slipping her hand into the crook of his arm, Nigel led her into the house. Though she’d known Dirk for almost twenty-five years, she’d never been to his ancestral home. Built in the late 1800’s, Prentice House was the creation of a megalomania cal railroad baron, the first Prentice to make a name for himself. Many years ago over cocktails, Dirk had laughed about the ostentatiousness of the house and grounds. After seeing it, now she could understand.

  The floor seemed like an acre of carved, Italian marble with brass inlays of railroad tracks, engines, and cattle. She stifled a grin at the sight of a particularly well-hung bull. The ceiling soared two stories overhead with two massive arches of rich mahogany interspersed with a chandelier the size of which she’d never seen outside of an opera house. The light reflecting off the numerous crystals dazzled her eyes.

  The colossal staircase fit the overwhelming size of the house itself. Carpeted in a rich, wine red, the width was at least fifteen feet and ascended to a dizzying height. She allowed her fingers to trail on the polished mahogany banister as she climbed, her gaze fixed on the three towering stained glass windows at the top.

  The jeweled panes caught the fading sun, casting colored shadows across the landing like jewels tossed carelessly about. The center pane depicted a golden-haired woman of amazing proportions. Clad in angelic attire complete with halo, her rapturous expression, exposed breasts, and outstretched hands decried her heavenly aspirations. Flanking panes framed the wanton creature with fat little cherubs armed with harps and mini bows and arrows. As she neared, she noted that many of the little creatures boasted impressive cocks.

  Elaine couldn’t prevent the laugh that bubbled up in her throat.

  “Interesting piece, isn’t it?” Nigel commented as he led her to the left toward yet more steps. “The original owner commissioned the piece. It’s rumored that his wife refused to use the main steps, preferring instead the servants entrance.”

  “I can see why.”

  “Mr. Dirk instructed the staff to take special care of you.” Nigel led her down a long hallway lined with doors.

  “He did? Dirk and I have been friends for many years. I adore him.” As they passed an open door, Elaine glimpsed a sumptuous bedroom suite in the process of being prepared for a guest.

  Nigel gave her fingers a friendly pat before releasing her to open one of a pair of doors at the end of the hall. “This will be your room for the duration of your stay.” He stepped back to allow her entrance.

  Her heels sunk into thick cream carpeting as she entered the room, a sigh of pleasure on her lips. To her left, a large fireplace arranged with logs and tinder awaited the touch of a flame to bring it to life. A comfortable-looking couch covered with an array of plush pillows sat facing it. A small desk was positioned in front of a large window and next to that a large rocking chair with no arms. Directly opposite the doorway was a set of French doors leading onto a balcony overlooking the gardens.

  To the right was the bed. A substantial four-poster shrouded in cream silk gauze, the king-sized bed was covered in an ivory and lilac striped comforter and a quantity of pillows.

  It looked h
eavenly.

  “This is lovely.”

  “I’m pleased you find your accommodations to your liking. The bathroom is through the door over there.” He gestured to the open door on the far right beyond the bed. “Your maid’s names are Molly and Rachel and you can reach them by dialing 9 on the phone at any time of the day or night.”

  Elaine ran her fingers over the comforter, luxuriating in the feel of raw silk. “Thank you for your help, Nigel.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss Elaine. I hope this visit fulfills all your expectations.”

  Her gaze darted to his face but his expression was as friendly as before. He gave her a sketchy bow before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

  She tossed her clutch purse on the bed, then walked to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, she sighed with pleasure at the sight of the immaculate room. Thick peach-colored rugs covered polished marble while spotless mirrors lined one wall. A massive garden tub occupied one corner with a large stall shower complete with a built-in bench next to it. The commode was tucked into another corner along with a bidet.

  On the vanity was a selection of fat vanilla candles in brass holders along with a selection of top line creams, lotions, and shampoos. A pile of peach towels awaited her pleasure on a padded stool within reach of the tub.

  If there was one thing she loved, it was a spacious bathroom. When she’d bought her house several years before, she’d had few requirements—several fireplaces, a big kitchen and a spacious bathroom. She’d been lucky to find two out of three then she’d remodeled a bedroom into her luxurious bathroom.

  Elaine made quick use of the facilities before moving to the vanity. Removing her sequined mask, she stared at her own familiar face.

  Dark green eyes stared back from a vaguely heart-shaped face. Her nose was average but her lips were full and pink. Thanks to moisturizing, her skin was good, her figure decent thanks to a love of running.

  Her long brown hair was arranged in a simple twist with a few tendrils allowed to escape. Her hair had always been both a blessing and a curse to her. It was thick and, when the humidity was high, unruly. Because she’d lost her hair several years ago, she loathed to cut it short and something deep inside started screaming the moment her hairdresser ever turned in her direction with scissors in hand.

  She grinned at the thought.

  Some would say she was pretty; several men had even dared to call her beautiful. She turned to the side to check the line of her dress by running her hand down her side. Yeah, not too shabby for a lady just dipping her toe into her forties.

  In short, she’d have a good-looking corpse at her funeral.

  She took a deep breath and straightened her spine. She wasn’t going to think about that now, for it was time to make merry and, darn it, she was going to have a damn fine time even while wondering if she’d finally gone off the deep end.

  She slipped her mask back into place, straightening it with the aid of her reflection. For the moment she was feeling good, looking good and that was all she needed… for now at least. Dirk had invited her to his house to relax, meet people, and, if desired, engage in consensual physical pleasures with a man of her choice. A glance at her watch told her it was time to begin the hunt.

  She paused long enough to touch up her lipstick before turning the light off and exiting the bedroom, careful to close the door behind her.

  When Dirk had extended the invitation to his weekend party, she’d been shocked. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never dreamed he threw such soirees consisting of an entire weekend of hedonistic indulgences: sex, great food, fine wines, and stimulating company. She knew he ran with a much more sophisticated crowd than she did, but she’d never dreamed of such occurrences, certainly not with her friend playing the host. Not that she was a prude, not by a long shot. But Dirk hosting a weekend of illicit sexual encounters for a houseful of guests? She stifled a chuckle as she moved down the central staircase.

  The entry hall was crowded with partygoers, each sporting a mask that covered at least half of their faces. The men were almost uniformly clad in tuxedos while the women were dressed in every color of the rainbow. Many of the dresses were the same seen at any New York cocktail party, while others were downright non-existent. She looked away from a woman who appeared to be clad in a scarf and nothing else.

  A soft chime caught her attention and her comrades in sex began filing through a doorway and out of sight. As she reached the bottom of the steps, Nigel appeared at her side. “Miss, if you will please step into the ballroom.” He gestured toward open doors. “Mr. Dirk will be welcoming his guests and you can partake of the refreshments.”

  She gave him a smile of thanks and hurried into the room, one of the last to arrive.

  Overhead, chandeliers were dimmed, casting a muted, golden glow over the guests. Joined with the soft light from a variety of floor candelabras and the scent of exotic incense, the effect was an aura of indulgence.

  Along the far wall, arranged against the windows, was a large table filled with a vast array of finger foods and, in the center, a fountain flowing with champagne. Waiters and waitresses dressed in togas circulated the room with trays of wine and canapés if the participants didn’t wish to serve themselves from the impressive spread. Elaine eyed the mountain of cocktail shrimp. A few of those would hit the spot right now.

  At the far end of the room stood a dais with two ornate chairs draped in yards of red silk and black velvet. Dirk sat in one of the chairs like a King surveying his subjects. She recognized him, not because he wasn’t wearing a mask for he was, but for the rich spill of his hair. Too pale to be called blonde, he wore it long, several inches below his shoulders. Normally he wore it clipped or tied back, but tonight it was free, pale as moonlight against the black of his tuxedo.

  As the bell sounded for the final time, he rose to his feet, effectively shushing the group with his presence alone. Dressed from head to toe in black, he looked like an angel who’d taken a wrong turn and she smiled at the image that formed in her mind.

  A waiter approached bearing a tray of champagne and Elaine had to force her gaze away from his well-filled loincloth. Smiling her thanks, she accepted a glass before stepping back to lean against the wall and listen to her friend.

  “I wish to welcome everyone to my home this evening.” Dirk addressed the forty or so attendees standing in a semi-circle near the platform. “Many of you have been here before, while for some of you, this is your first time. Here in Eden, the normal societal rules do not apply with the exception of one. No means no. If something makes you uncomfortable, speak up and everyone in this house will heed your wishes. For this weekend, the only hard and fast rule is to enjoy yourself and indulge your wildest fantasies.” Nervous twitters sounded from several women as a few men tugged on their ties.

  Elaine’s gaze swept the crowd and she grinned. Yes, this was going to be an interesting few days. Her skin prickled as the hair on the back of her neck rose to attention.

  Someone’s watching me.

  She slowly scanned the room, looking for the source of her discomfort. Standing in the back as she was, she couldn’t see anyone paying her the slightest bit of attention until she looked up.

  To her left, a balcony ran the width of the room and a man stood in the center, his gaze fixed on her.

  His raven-black hair was long and loose, trailing below his shoulders. He looked quite tall with long legs encased in black leather knee boots and tight black pants. A burgundy velvet jacket covered impossibly wide shoulders while white ruffles from his shirt peaked through the open front. A simple black mask covered most of his face, but not his mouth. Unsmiling, he looked firm and commanding.

  She looked away, willing her breathing back under control. She was being foolish. It couldn’t be him because he didn’t exist. He never had.

  For as long as she could remember, she’d had dreams about a tall raven-haired man who was her lover. The dreams had started when she was in her lat
e teens and they’d begun innocently enough. Every three or four months, she’d dream of walking under a full moon, his hand in hers, of stolen kisses that curled her toes under the cool, blue light. They would laugh, talk, and lie in fields to stare at the stars.

  As she grew older, the dreams changed and increased in frequency. They were almost always sensual or erotic in nature, leaving her damp and aroused when she woke. On most occasions, she’d been aroused to the point that a simple touch from her hand would bring her the satisfaction she craved.

  She glanced up once more and their gazes connected. He nodded, sending a shiver of anticipation through her as she saluted him with her glass and a big smile.

  She’d rarely sustained a long-term relationship because, as crazy as it sounded, she’d always had the strange feeling that she’d been cheating on her dream lover. Face it, no real man had ever measured up to her nocturnal visitor.

  What time she’d wasted being faithful to a figment of her overactive imagination. The man on the balcony probably wouldn’t measure up either, but she might have fun finding out.

  A waiter dressed in a white loincloth distracted her when he offered her a mouthwatering selection of mini-quiches. Though she didn’t want one, she selected a mushroom quiche and nodded her thanks as he left. After nibbling her treat, she took a leisurely drink of her champagne before returning her gaze to the balcony.

  He was gone.

  Chapter 2

  It was her, it had to be.

  Count Alexei Romanov ran a shaky hand through his hair as he stepped into the seclusion of a small lavatory, taking care to lock the door behind him. No other woman had that smile or air of confidence that she possessed. When she’d tilted her head to the side while listening to Dirk, he knew he’d seen that head tilt before.

  Even now, after seeing her in person, it was hard for him to believe it was her. He’d seen her photo in Dirk’s office, but his friend had been remarkably tight-lipped about Elaine. It had taken four years of haunting Dirk’s every move in pursuit of the woman in the photograph. And finally, she’d turned up at this event. He’d known that if he stuck close to Dirk long enough, the elusive Elaine would appear. And she had.