But I wouldn’t give up. I wasn’t a man who stopped going after what he wanted. If I were, then I never would be in the position I was in, not have the success I did.
I leaned against the wall, the women elegantly dressed, their attitudes screaming snobbery. Despite this being a charity event, these people were here to mingle, to make business connections, to gain something for themselves. Oh, they’d donate, reach deep in their pockets for a good cause, but they weren’t doing it because it was the right thing. They only did it to advance their own goals.
I brought the champagne glass to my mouth and took a long drink, my gaze scanning the crowd, searching for her. I slipped on my mask as soon as I entered the St. James residence. It had been redecorated for the evening, the mansion having silk slung from the chandelier as ethereal-looking lights accenting the walls. It gave it all a dream-like quality.
Everyone wore masks, some more elaborate than others. But I could still make out the identities of those around me. When you were around the same types of people who had a certain air, a posh quality to them, you picked up on who they really were.
Like Mr. Brackets, CEO of Brackets Industrial. He was married, had been for twenty years, but the woman he was with most certainly wasn’t the missus. His date was half his age with enough plastic in her body she gave Barbie a run for her money. He always had his hand on her ass at these events. That was what gave him away, like right now.
Then there was the French diplomat, Jacques Florentes. Or Madame Genesia. They were in a relationship, had been for the last two years, but refused to acknowledge it publicly despite the fact that everyone already knew they were banging. Instead, they attended these events and eye-fucked each other from across the room before “coincidentally” disappearing at the same time, no doubt to fuck in a darkened corner.
I finished off my champagne, setting it on a passing tray held by a waiter before grabbing another one. I started making my rounds through the room, my sole purpose finding my mystery woman.
I didn’t even know anything about her aside from her first name. I didn’t even know what she fully looked like, because she’d been wearing her mask. But I’d never forget her scent, never forget the way she felt pressed up against me. I’d never forgot the feeling of her body, her heat, as it seeped into me, or how clear and blue her eyes were as she looked up at me with surprise.
And I wanted to think that I saw arousal filter across her face, move through her body. The way she tightened against me, clutched at me. The way her pupils dilated, the sound of her breath coming out a little shallower. It all made me hard. Needy. Desperate.
I wanted to think all those things were real and not just an overactive imagination, a fantasy that I wanted as my reality.
I should have controlled my consumption of the champagne, but I found myself finishing my third glass and heading toward the bar that had been erected in one of the great rooms.
I scanned the room, my one mission so focused.
I had to find her.
I hadn’t wanted to bid on a woman, despite it being for charity. It seemed barbaric, primal. But thinking about Beatrix up on that stage? Fuck, if she was up there… I’d want no one but her. Only her.
I was transfixed by her... obsessed. And all it had taken was this one moment in time where we connected, cementing deep in my body that there was something realer out there.
And just as I was about to turn and search the rest of the house, a flash of emerald green caught my gaze. Bodies elegantly dressed mingled, slightly blocking her from my view. It pissed me off. I was like a starving dog, and she was the finest piece of meat amidst a sea of garbage.
Then the crowd parted, and I could fully see her now.
There she was, standing off to the side all alone. She held a champagne glass in her hand, her stance telling me she was uncomfortable, still fell out of place. She was a diamond amongst all these other dull rocks. Whereas everyone else was used to these events, used to the money being thrown around, the false sense of giving a shit filling the room, she was so different.
And I fucking craved that.
I found myself moving toward her instantly, unable to stop myself. It was like I was on autopilot.
I had to get to her.
I could practically smell her scent, and I was still feet from her. My throat tightened, my tongue swelling. I wanted to tell her all the things, all the words, yet I didn’t even know what the fuck I’d say. I wondered what she felt like fully pressed against me. I wondered how she tasted in the throes of passion.
God, I needed to clear my thoughts, because I was starting to get hard, my dick digging into the zipper of my tux slacks. I didn’t dare adjust myself and draw attention to the fact, so I prayed like hell my jacket hid my arousal.
I took another step, and another. She hadn’t noticed me yet, but I’d make my presence known soon enough. I had to find out who she was.
But a man in a tuxedo stepped up to her side, and every muscle in my body tightened. I instantly felt jealousy move through me at the sight of him touching her bare elbow. This possessive, aggressive sensation overtook me.
I didn’t want anyone touching her but me.
I took a step toward her and realized it was menacing, threatening. My stance had gone rigid, and I felt the blood rush to my muscles, as if I were about to fight, the adrenaline moving through my veins, my body preparing itself for the inevitable. I didn’t care who saw me act all primal, like a caveman. I wanted them to see the lengths I’d go.
God, I’m losing my fucking mind.
This guy had done nothing but gently grab her elbow, but I wanted to break his hand, the one that he touched her with.
She still had yet to see me, and before I could make my presence known, place some kind of unrealistic claim on a virtual stranger, she was being carted away. My heart started racing in this panicked beat. I just found her again, and here she was leaving.
I started following them, unsure why this need overcame me the way it did, but I was unable to stop it. And then she was taken down a long hallway, the crowd swallowing up the space between us. I lost her again. I didn’t like the feeling that settled within me at that thought.
But one thing was for certain. I was not about to let her go, not until I fully explored this strange and powerful emotion she conjured within me.
Chapter Six
Beatrix
I’d been drinking my third glass of champagne when a man from the auction led me away to join the other women.
And here I sat, elegant and beautiful women surrounding me, waiting for their turn to head on stage and let the highest bidder win.
Each woman was called up to go on stage, and the closer it got to my turn, the more my nervous were starting to take over. I’d only seen Patrice once since arriving, and it was clear she was neck-deep in charity business affairs. She’d been running around almost frantic, making sure everything was organized, where it should be.
I didn’t know how long had passed, maybe minutes, maybe only seconds, but I was ushered up to the front before I knew what was happening. I would be called upon next.
Everything was a haze as the announcer said my name, as someone gently pushed me from behind, so I started moving forward. I stepped onto the stage, forcing myself to take steady, even steps. To go slow. The last thing I wanted was to fall. My heels clacked on the wooden floor, but it wasn’t as loud as my pulse beating in my ears.