Blazed(42)

THE ROSES LOOKED otherworldly, bathed in pale blue lights rigged to temporary ceiling scaffolding and decorated in silver. I had to double take back into the lobby to be sure that this old theatre— my theatre— was the same one I'd stood in three weeks earlier.

Blaze urged me by the elbow into the auditorium so I'd stop bottlenecking the flow of executives and minor celebrities flowing in behind me, and I took a moment to drink him in. Even though the mixer wasn't black tie, he'd donned his three piece suit and a vivid green tie that any other man of lesser beauty might have found difficult to carry off. For the first time since we met, I felt like he might have pulled out all the stops to look like an even match to me.

Viridian satin flowed around my ankles, iridescently shimmering between green and blue as it moved. The modest sweetheart cut gown flared out into a fishtail skirt at my knees, clinging tightly to every curve up to my shoulders, which were covered by delicate ivory lace sewn into the satin, reaching down to my elbows.

The Venetian eye-mask I wore was a matching hue and decorated in trails of silver glitter, the ribbon holding it around my head causing no interference to the tumble of golden curls pinned to gather and fall over my right shoulder. Apparently the dimple that creased my cheek made my left side the best. All in all, I felt comfortably hidden but perfectly glamorous, and for once not overshadowed by the gorgeous masked mystery man at my side.

"Ready?" I blinked in reply. His black Phantom of the Opera mask covered half his face but really didn't dull his looks in the slightest. I was still completely dazzled. "I'll take that look on your face as a yes."

"This look?" I pointed at my face. "This f*cklust stare you can't see properly."

"I can see it perfectly well, Emmeline." Gathering my left hand up in both of his, Blaze kissed the emerald set into my ring. "Don't steal my word."

I calmed a little with every step deeper into the room, giving up my mission to guess at who people were after the fifth or so little huddle of faceless socialites. The idea that if I couldn't see them, they couldn't see me, was a comfort and I took a cleansing breath to gather myself. The many clusters of tables suggested that the place would be packed out to the rafters, improving the chances of avoiding my family.

Blaze lead me to our table, right at the head of the room with the largest calla lily centrepiece. When I enquired with a frown, he pointed out the cards labelling the places for Cornelia Alexander, her two brothers and their respective plus ones, explaining that his help the night before had earned us top table privileges. Not to mention that Cornelia's brother owned the label that had signed Monday's Miracle.

I grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing drinks server's tray and passed one to him. "To complications and 'f*ck it's."

"Mazel tov!"

We kept our hands linked while Blaze ambled the room, imparting perfunctory hello's and anecdotes to the mega-moguls and their wives who all fell under his spell and regarded me with looks of well-meaning envy. I lucked out with him and I knew it, and found myself falling even deeper for him as I listened to the lilting cadence of his voice. The words made no sense, just the smooth even rhythm and the way his mouth moved reminded me that I'd feel those lips all over me in a few hours— less if I got my way— and the seductive sweet nothings that would spill out of them when we got home and spent our first 'real' night together.

He didn't break the flow of his conversation when he felt me shiver with anticipation but he smirked. He knew what he was doing to me and he was damned happy about it.



BLAZE fussed when he left my side to answer a call of nature, restlessly straightening my hair and mask while he asked incessantly if I'd survive without him. An uneventful hour and too many glasses of champagne made me feel brave, and if it hadn't, the scotch I was planning on ordering while he was in the bathroom would have. I couldn't resist watching him as he walked away, blatantly checking out what was mine, only turning back to wait my turn in line when he was safely out of sight.

He took a while to come back. I'd suspected he'd get trapped in a few conversations en route so I didn't let it play on my mind. Instead, I traded a knowing glance with the copper haired woman sheathed in silver who leaned back against the bar next to me, red faced under a mask much like my own and shimmering with sweat.

"Scotch on the rocks." She nodded at my drink. "My kind of woman." I knew immediately who she was from her clipped, rich and brutally British accent that would have put the Queen to shame.

"Quickie at your own high profile mixer. My kind of woman." Her mouth dropped open for a second before she dipped down and pulled my chin up to look at my eyes. "Cornelia."

"Emmy, good god! Is that really you?" Stepping back, she walked in a circle around me, scrutinising me from every angle, coming back to stand in front of me and toy with my hair. "You look stunning. The blonde looks great. But your father said you weren't coming."

"Ah," I grabbed my glass to hide behind it, "I'm not here with the family. I'm here as a plus one."

"Come again?" She didn't even try to not act surprised. "Have you run out of hearts to break?"

"Oh no, I almost certainly have at least one more, though I'm hoping to hang onto it."

"I see. So..." Cornelia scanned the room over her shoulder and squinted. "You're not here with Derek because he's old and paunchy... Joseph is here with his 'wife' and my brothers are both, how do I put it, 'preoccupied' with their women... You're not with him..."— she looked somewhat smugly at a savagely attractive dark haired man sans mask laughing with Blaze— "because he's mine. And some lucky young lady has just snagged the man with him."

"Oh?" Turning to look in the direction of Blaze, I took another sip of scotch to hide my amusement. "Recently?"

"Mm-hmm. Such a shame because you'd have gotten on so well. I had to travel down to the Pearce & Parker office in Birmingham yesterday to approve of the ring he picked out. So nervous, he was. Planned to pop the question tonight but changed his mind this morning and decided to keep it private. Such a shame, I do love a good proposal."

I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, bracing myself to reveal the news for the first time. "It needed flowers."

"Emmy!" Cornelia nudged me in the ribs with her elbow and flashed me one of her stunning model smiles. I knew that smile was genuine, having spent a period of time sneaking out of galas and dinner parties with her, drinking heavily to escape in more ways than one and rambling. She had some idea of how rough my life had been and she was glad to see me with some stability in my life. "He adores you. You know that, don't you?"

"I think so," I breathed, "I adore him too. He's done me so much good."

"It shows. What do your family think of him?"

Averting my eyes, I turned back to the bar and kept my eyes fixed on the rows of spirit optics. "They don't know. He doesn't know about my family. I'm hoping to avoid it if possible."

"That might be difficult—" Cornelia tapped my shoulder and pointed out in Blaze's direction, "— as he's talking to your father."





Fourteen





MY LEGS SHOOK like leaves as I tentatively approached what appeared to be a far too friendly conversation. Henry talked animatedly while Blaze rocked back on his heels to laugh at the right moments— a silky warm caress of a laugh I could hear over the music and the hundreds of voices around us. Nobody would doubt that they were familiar, probably trading boyish jibes and quips.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I got closer, making me feel sick and dizzy. Somehow, their voices echoed over everything too.

"No, New York sorely needs someone to go out and throw their weight around at The Seymour. I just don't have the time to go myself and Tallulah is a halfwit."

"Is your youngest still refusing to partake in the family business?"

"Blaze, my boy— I would do anything to get my little ball-buster in and Tally out. I still maintain that you'd get on like a house on fire. You could be good for her."

"Sorry, old chap. I've very recently acquired a ball-buster of my own."

Blaze looked in my direction the same moment my step faltered— he muttered something to Henry and they laughed. "Henry," he beamed and reached out to curl an arm around my waist when I was close enough, "this is my very significant other." Politely, I offered my hand and kept my eyes fixed down. The minute he saw them, he'd know. They're were too much like my mother's; too keen and all-seeing. They told my story with a single blink.

"Miss White, yes?" I nodded. "Not very talkative, are you?"

"She's here under sufferance. I've just brought her to show her off."