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Authors: Antoinette

BOOK: A Taste of Pleasure
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“I think I know who you are, but am so enjoying the game. Don't tell me,” she said with a smile. He whisked her back inside. As they danced around the floor he held her close, but he spoke not a word, which added to the mystery and intrigue of his identity. After the song ended, he slipped away.

She walked over to the table of tasty hors d'oeuvres and decadent desserts. The cakes looked especially inviting, and she giggled to herself as she said, “Let them eat cake!” There were petits fours, cream puffs, éclairs, strawberry shortcake, and six bowls of whipped cream amidst the other tantalizing foods that surrounded the magnificent fruit cake replica of the Eiffel Tower. The tiny lights on the centerpiece twinkled, reflecting onto a large, sterling silver coffee service set and crystal goblets full of champagne and white wine. She took a flute of champagne and sipped it along with some whipped cream and strawberries, remembering a movie she saw where the leading man told the woman that “strawberries bring out the taste of champagne.” She nibbled as her dancing friend came back over. He dipped his strawberry in her whipped cream and rubbed it against her neck, then gave her a lick. He nuzzled her from behind, kissing her shoulders, her neck and her cheeks, his breath hot on her ears. She wanted to take his mask off and let him kiss her lips, but she would have to wait until midnight when everyone would remove their masks together.

He again took her in his arms and they danced around the floor. His lips were on her neck as his hands caressed her back. His charm and attentiveness had her so hot and wet that she almost came right there. Their bodies glided across the dance floor as he led her outside, where he kissed her bottom lip. She knew from the feelings she felt down deep he had to be Deacon and played along. She wanted more and couldn't wait for midnight to arrive. He reached under the layers of her dress,
touching her between her legs. Her every thought, nerve, and emotion was on fire with desire, her resistance was gone, and all she wanted was to be fucked, now, and for a precious moment forgot where she was.

“Please,” she whispered to her masked friend, who led her back inside. One part of her body had been brought to life, while the rest of her was dying in agony to feel his touch. The ball would soon be over and she could then take advantage of her new mystery lover. He danced with her again, his embrace reassuring her that this would be a night to remember. She felt her body slip away on a cloud of passion. He held her close, kissing her bare shoulders. His gloved hands were soft and gentle, and he held her with the greatest of care. He kissed her, tonguing her when nobody was looking. Her heart pounded so hard she thought everyone could hear it. He kissed her cheeks as he brushed against her face.
Oh my God,
she thought,
if it doesn't get to midnight soon I will simply die
.

“Bonsoir, mesdames et messieurs.”
She changed to English. “Welcome, guests. What a wonderful gathering and how beautiful you all look. I can only imagine how dances back in France must have looked. I would like to say a special thanks to Jon and his staff from Creative Catering for the gorgeous decorations and delectable food.” She led the crowd in accolades and smiled. “Now the moment we have all been waiting for, the drawing.” London's dear friends Grace and Brent Cosgrove easily won the contest. Grace floated across the floor in an emerald velvet gown donned with tiny emeralds graced by a lovely diamond-and-emerald necklace and earrings, her hair piled up high with an emerald broach in the middle of the front with a long emerald feather. Brent had on a light green velvet jacket with a cream ruffled shirt that flowed out of his jacket at the neck and sleeves, tight knee-high light green pants,
matching high socks, and buckled shoes. Grace's gown and his suit were tailor-made, and she was a vision of loveliness in her dress. London awarded them with their trophies that showed a French couple dancing. They proceeded to lead the group back onto the dance floor in a waltz. When the song ended, it was five minutes to midnight. The countdown started: four, three, two, one! Everyone removed their masks and smiled as the festive masquerade came to a close. London's eyes darted around, searching for her mystery man, but she couldn't see him anywhere. The ball wound down as guests came over to thank London. She bid them farewell, with smiles and laughter, her eyes still searching for her partner. After the last visitor exited the store, Jon offered to drive London home. He assured her that the wonderful waitstaff would clean the store and Christopher would secure everything and lock up.

At the château, Jon came inside to chat. London poured them each a glass of wine, and they talked for a while. She explained the story to him about her split with Max. They'd both been so busy that she hadn't even had a chance to fill him in on the details. Jon was comforting and shared in her sorrows. He changed the subject as he inquired about the mysterious man who had swept her off her feet at the ball. Her face lit up as she told Jon she didn't know who he was, and sadly, he'd disappeared just before midnight. However, her gut feeling told her it had been Deacon. They were both exhausted from all the excitement and intrigue. Jon helped her out of her heavy dress and was soon on his way. London poured another scotch and headed up to bed.

Saturday morning, she awoke feeling groggy for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the daylight. Then she realized,
Today is the Grand Opening of Le Magasin d'Antiquités!
She got ready fast, grabbing a yogurt for breakfast and a sandwich for lunch.
Max and the movers showed up, and she opened the gates, then watched as they took the furniture out of the pole barn and loaded it into the truck. She was excited that her dream had finally come true. She packed her dress and decided to change at the store after everything had been moved into its proper place.

When she arrived at the shop, Christopher was waiting at the door for her. Together, they directed placement of the precious antiques and soon the store was full of beautiful items. She polished the tables while Christopher cleaned the glass door on the book case. She placed statue heads on pedestals, and a centerpiece on the dining room table. Max grinned at her as he hung a few pictures. Soon everything was ready and the clock read 1:00 p.m. The opening would be only from 2:00 to 4:00 p.m. that afternoon and nothing would be sold yet. People could tag and bid on their choice of items and the winning bidders could claim their merchandise on Sunday, with the proceeds of the silent auction of the Louis XV picture going to the shelter. She walked through the building, looking at each piece in different rooms, admiring it all and wishing she could keep several of the items for herself. Tomorrow, she would have to part with them, only to replace them with other items that were equally as lovely.

She looked at the heavy chandelier with its crystals glimmering in the sunlight, prisms reflecting rainbows over the walls. She turned to admire the elegant French front room. She loved and appreciated the beauty that Max had captured in remodeling the building. He'd brought her such happiness and she hoped that he had found his happiness too with Madison and Mikey. Her mind drifted to thoughts of Deacon. She smiled as she thought of the mystery man again, wondering if it could have been Deacon and how she'd hoped to find him when the masks were removed, but alas it didn't happen.

London looked at her watch impatiently. She had a little more time to kill, so she retrieved her sandwich and sat at the dining room table to eat. She took in the surroundings as she munched quickly, then headed to the powder room to change clothes. The lavatory was finished in striking black and gold contrasts. The black wallpaper had pink flowers and ribbons of gold and pink that complemented the black pedestal sink and golden fixtures. The lighting consisted of two crystal sconces and a small chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. London quickly changed into her Marie Antoinette costume, minus the tedious undergarments, as she thought it would be fun to dress up one last time before returning her costume. She left the room to promenade around her new store.

It was nearly time to open the doors for business. London took in a deep breath as she looked out the window in surprise. The line of customers had already formed outside on the sidewalk.
No need to keep them waiting any longer
, she thought. She opened the doors and welcomed her guests to the sneak-preview auction. She and Christopher guided patrons and clarified the auction process. They could bid and sign a tag for certain items, and if their bid won the item, it would be held for them to pick up the following day. Christopher was instrumental in providing the historical and intriguing facts behind each unique piece, and London was impressed. He had really done his homework. Familiar faces from the previous night's ball appeared, voicing comments on the party and how wonderful it had been. Items were being tagged fast and the bids were increasing with competitive fury. She was certain that all of the items would be gone by the next day, and she was relieved that she had wisely doubled her inventory so that she would be able to replace most of the treasures.

London noticed that Jen was in line to bid. She hadn't seen her since that fateful night at Jen's apartment. London's blood boiled, but she maintained her composure.

“Everything looks great, hon,” Jen said as she approached London, expressing her enthusiasm over the new store. “And I love your sign! It's so creative. The whole store is just so original and amazing!”

London smiled, feeling catty as she remembered the night of their threesome.

“Thank you,” London replied curtly. “I even have an authentic eighteenth-century guillotine down in the basement that I'd like to show you later.”

London smirked and diverted her attention to a patron with a question. Jen kept waiting around and following London. The distraction was beginning to annoy her as she attempted to review her inventory plans.

“London, we really need to talk,” said Jen, toying with her purse straps.

“I really don't know what to say to you, Jen,” London replied as she walked around marking items in her book.

“I am so sorry. Please accept my apologies. The tryst was my entire fault. I seduced him and encouraged him to come over to my condo. You know, Deacon is beside himself with grief since you two broke up,” Jen pleaded.

“I really don't care. He showed me just how little he cares by having a fling with you. Seeing him in bed with you . . . Oh my God, Jen! You knew how much I loved him and you didn't even care. How could you?” London tried to walk away, turning her back as tears began to form.

“London, wait,” Jen continued. “I talked to Deacon today. He's distraught and talked of moving back to England soon. He's lost and devastated without you, and I just don't want to
see you lose him forever. I could never take him from you, and not for a lack of trying. I'm sorry for what I did, but please hear me out. You've wrecked him, London. He will never be able to love another woman again, ever. He only wants you. You mean the world to him.” Jen paused before finishing catching her breath. “Please, London, just promise me that you'll go see him and hear him out before he's gone forever.”

London spun back around. “Thank you, Jen. I may go and give him one last chance, but I'm not so sure I can ever forgive you. Now please, I have a store to run here, and now is neither the time nor the place for this nonsense.”

Jen nodded apologetically and excused herself. London watched Jen exit, feeling overwhelmed with betrayal, but realizing that Jen was right. London was mired in a tunnel of confusion and guilt. She would talk with Deacon if she could muster the strength to face him. She walked around lighting candles for atmosphere, the fragrance filling the air with soothing comfort. Oddly enough, the name of the candle was “Ol' France,” which made her smile. The dining room was already full of people looking through books and drinking coffee. She had installed a cappuccino machine in the corner by the bookshelves near her window seat in front of the bow windows. She strolled over and poured herself some. She sipped it, savoring the heat and moving her hands up and down the warmth of the cup. She thought about Deacon and the first time they'd met as she rubbed her finger around the rim of the cup, around and around until her mind was satisfied. She put it back up to her lips, letting the foamy liquid slide down her throat. Her heart and body ached for Deacon, and she was torn as she attempted to disguise her turmoil. Part of her still loved Deacon madly. He was her true soul mate. She smiled as she blinked away her tears.

It was almost 4:00 when Christopher touched her arm, bringing her back to reality.

“Today was an amazing success. We made fifteen hundred dollars on the portrait of Louis XV for the shelter,” he said.

“Oh, that is wonderful. Thank you so much for all your hard work, Christopher,” she replied.

He was so intuitive and he offered to close up shop if she wanted to escape early. She accepted his offer. She changed out of her dress and headed to the château, stopping only to return her gown at the costume shop, where she thanked them for their assistance with the ball.

Back in the comfort of her home, she indulged in a hot bath, dined alone by candlelight, then curled up by the fire to sip on yet another tumbler of Deacon's scotch, the only substitute she seemed to have for his touch lately. Before retiring, she retrieved her engagement ring from the drawer. She crawled into the comfort of her bed, admiring the beauty of the glistening aquamarine gemstone in the lamplight as she drifted off to meet Deacon in her palace of dreams.

Sunday morning arrived early and she awoke to the intercom buzzing. “Yes?” she asked.

“You need to open the gate so we can transport the replacement items you need for your store.”

She realized she was still clutching the engagement ring and quickly tucked it into her purse as she hit the remote control for the front gate. The sound of the trucks invaded her quiet morning. After a cup of yogurt, coffee, and cereal, she showered and dressed with excited haste, readying herself for yet another busy day. She straightened up and left for the shop, eager to make her first sales. The ride to the store was exciting as she thought about all the changes that would be made. She also felt somewhat saddened about selling some
of her loveliest things. That was the one drawback to this business . . . falling in love with the furniture. Each piece was so special that she would buy them all if she could, but she knew her home would soon become crammed to the rafters. She giggled at the ridiculous thought of becoming such a hoarder.

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