Blazed (31 page)

The mixer was in full swing by the time we spotted Blaze chatting to a group of people he obviously knew very well. Their mutual body language was very open and friendly, innocuous little touches on each others hands and arms I might have gotten funny about if the women around him hadn't all been obviously middle-aged. I could sense them all hoping to marry off their daughters to him, as much as I could sense his refusal in return.

One of the women in particular was most animated, hair pulled back into a deceptively severe bun that didn't at all match the vibrantly coloured silk maxi-dress she wore. Jewels glittered around her throat and wrists, and the light kept catching an engagement ring that put mine to shame— onyx and sapphire encircling a massive diamond embedded in platinum, with a wedding band to match. It was a sign of good taste and a hefty bank account. The sign of a woman on her fifth rich husband. The sign of Helen Rosen.

"Oh crap," I groaned, "that's Hunter's mother."

"The one with all the bling?"

"The one and only."

"Jeez." Esme shook her head and pulled me to the bar before Blaze had chance to call me over. I'd been lucky to so far escape unscathed, but Helen's eye was too sharp. She'd have minute details like the shape of my jaw, length of my fingers and stride of my step memorised. It was a safe bet that she knew the face behind every single mask. "Looking at her, you can sort of understand why Hunter came out so self-centred. Women dripping in sparkle are just screaming 'love me, love me, oh please, why won't you love me?'" I snorted a laugh, knowing that Helen Rosen made it her life mission to be on everyone's Christmas card list. That family were nothing if not adored though strangely not the most outwardly sociable beyond functions. Funny that.

Every time I checked over my shoulder, Blaze was still engrossed in conversation with Helen. Her hand would clasp to her chest when she laughed, and then stroke down his arm. Even with her face covered, I knew that she'd be fluttering her lashes too, having witnessed the same disgusting display of peacocking many times before. Knowing that she only had sons gave me enough comfort to send Blaze over teasing looks and pouts when he looked to me for help.
 

"Think I should go and save him for you?" Esme taunted him with a wave he returned stiffly. "He looks like he's suffered enough."

"Actually, I think I'd like to talk to my mum while it's safe. Where is she?"

"Twenty-two years," muttered the woman next to me, "and she still doesn't recognise her own mother."

Honestly, I had no chance in hell of realising it was her. Ivy's hair was pinned up like a bride and her dress a sassy V cut halter neck with no back to speak of. The knee-high slits made it daringly youthful and the vivid cerise fabric of the dress-mask ensemble had made me put her in her twenties at first glance. I might have even thought she was younger from me. So much for modest and demure.

"Mum! You look so..." Young was not the way to go. It would somehow be twisted to imply that I thought she looked old to start with. I'd been taught better than to use age-related adjectives in my compliments. So I went with "you look hot."

"Oh well," she giggled, smoothing down a non-existent stray strand of hair, "I didn't even try, really." Bullshit. She had that day-spa look about her, which meant she'd been primping for at least a good twelve hours before they arrived and had the full arsenal of beauticians at hand. For a masquerade mixer. Go figure. "That dress is lovely, sweetheart. You look very sophisticated."

"Blaze picked it out for me."

"Ah," Ivy nodded serenely and looked over my shoulder in his direction, "I'm so glad you two made up. You both deserve some joy in your lives. Esme, be a love and fetch him for me would you, I want to see them together."

"Oh god, no." She wanted to look for the perfect match in us, something she could do with laser precision. Any couple she disagreed with never lasted long enough to prove her wrong and those who got the nod lived in blissful matrimony. I didn't want the death sentence in either case out in public. "Please don't embarrass me."

"Oh nonsense," she scoffed, "I've known him as long as I've known you. Longer. Blaze, darling!" A warm arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back against my six foot three inch miracle. The hot rush of satisfaction I felt for being reunited with him after the short separation was instant and powerful. Nobody around could miss that I was crazy about him.

"Ivy." Blaze kissed the back of the hand she offered before he kissed the crown of my head and rested his chin the same spot. "You look wonderful. And you appear to have met the only other woman in the room who comes close enough to compare." Oh, he was good.

"I have indeed, young man. Let me look at you both without those silly masks." I watched her eyes track around the room for Henry before she gave a secret nod of reassurance. Blaze pulled the ends of the ribbon securing my mask and smiled down at me as it slowly fell away— a sexy half smile that made me melt. It didn't seem possible that I'd feel my pulse jump when he took off his own mask, that it would be like seeing him again for the first time. Something in his grand gesture and slipshod proposal had unleashed something in me and stripped away any lingering reservations. I was no longer afraid to admit to myself that I needed him too much and was stupidly in love with him.

"Oh yes," Ivy gushed next to us, clasping her hands to her mouth, "yes, you're perfect together. I'll be on tenterhooks waiting for news of your engagement." Esme caught my eye and shrugged, silently admitting that she hadn't felt it was her place to impart such news. I was sort of grateful for that.

Blaze took my left hand in his and dipped to plant a quick kiss on my lips. "Actually Ivy, I concreted my intentions to keep the lovely Emmeline just this afternoon."

"Oh!" My mother whimpered, fingers flexing with the motherly urge to gather me up and cover me in reverent kisses.
 In many ways, I was her greatest achievement and most prized possession, but the day she could pass me on to a man who would treat me like the princess she believed I was would always be, to her, a moment almost as precious as my birth. She too wanted stability for me after my rocky adolescence, something I think she always felt partially to blame for.

So she compromised on her exuberance and took my hand instead. "Beautiful, simply beautiful. Like the lady herself." I could tell that she appreciated the modesty of the ring as much as I did. "Masks back on, my loves! We must celebrate!"

SUN POURED IN through the window and woke me with an emetic surge that had me scrambling for the toilet I was conveniently lying next to. Not one I recognised, but that didn't really matter until I'd stopped spluttering into it's bowl. A naked body wrapped around me and pulled my hair out of harms way, spreading kisses across my shoulders
 despite the fact I was hacking disgracefully just inches away. That was when I realised that I was naked too, and both of us were covered only by a bed sheet.

"I don't think this is what I envisioned when I imagined our first morning together." Blaze chuckled softly and turned me around to wipe my face with a flannel. He looked like he'd been ravaged mercilessly, boasting an impressive collection of scratches and bite marks, and even a few bruises. "I'm guessing we had some crazy pre-maritals?"

"Oh yeah." Grinning, he tilted his chin up to show me a few impressive love bites. "The craziest."

I smirked and rubbed my eyes. "Where the hell are we?"

"At the hotel across the street from 
The Roses.
 Ivy Tudor got you and Esme paralytic on champagne, you made some fairly indiscreet demands of my body, and then you started looking kind of green. It was safer for Henry's limo to bring you here."

"Oh." I blushed, remembering how many times I'd been sick in that limo before and how long it had taken to get the smell out. "Esme?"

"Face down snoring on the couch outside."

"Okay..." I looked shyly down at my hands, fiddling with the emerald that I apparently hadn't dreamed. It was really there and it really meant that the devilishly handsome man eyeing up my exposed chest was mine. "You know, if you found me a toothbrush or some mouthwash, we could go back in that room and do this morning properly."

"I'm on it."

I wasn't allowed to sleep after Blaze capably screwed me until I begged him to stop. Instead he enticed me down to the hotel's dining room with the promise of coffee and canoodling in the lift. The genial old couples forced to share the car with us watched us kiss and tickle from the corners of their eyes, smiling secret smiles full of 'ah, young love' admiration and 'remember when we used to be that?' snipes directed at their companions.

Something about Blaze had changed too. He was still too beautiful, of course
— even sporting his morning stubble, just-fucked hair, last nights suit and the evidence of my carnality, he still made me look downright homely in my crumpled dress. He might have even looked better for showing that he was human. But he exuded some kind of euphoric triumph like snagging me was really something to boast about. I suppose it might have been. We had both succeeded with each other where many others had failed. Both of us refused to get tied down but were now tied to each other. In a strange way, we couldn't have been more perfect together.

I didn't know the name of the hotel but it had Henry's hoof-prints all over it. The room we'd woken up in had been no less than a suite. The bedroom was excessively large, the enormous wooden, queen-sized four-poster bed decorated in rich blue and purple linens and throw cushions. That stemmed off into a private sitting room full of couches that looked no less impressive for housing a thoroughly unconscious Esme. Although the underlying palate was very stark, you could almost taste the expense injected into the room by the bold splashes of colour in the furnishings and the top range electronics tucked away in the blackened glass cabinets lining the walls.
 

It would probably have taken a year for me to save up for one night in that kind of suite on bookshop wages and I would have felt awkward about touching anything. Just another little thing that made me so different from my family; extravagance that came at a high cost made me uncomfortable. Presumably, that was why Blaze hadn't shoved his money in my face and gone for a platinum engagement ring with bigger stones. What he'd given me was modest enough for me to pretend it had cost less than it probably did but still brag about the size of the emerald. I loved that he understood my quirks so well.

The reception area of the hotel was equally as intimidating as the suite. The front desk reminded me of a judge's bench minus the gavel, and the finely preened staff who manned the phones there looked equally as judgemental. Thankfully we bypassed that area completely and head straight into a dining room with wooden floors so buffed you could see your face in them. 

"So what do you hunger for, Miss White?" Blaze swayed into me playfully when I raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Something that doesn't involve one or both of us making sex noise."

"But where's the fun in that? I'm actually jonesing for black coffee and scrambled eggs."

"After the pounding you just got, are they not already scrambled?" I gaped up at him in disbelief and snatched a menu off a table as we passed. I loved playful Blaze as much as I loved horny Blaze and serious Blaze. It just still shocked me when he said anything vulgar because it didn't seem like something someone so gorgeous was capable of.
 

"Look, see. Scrambled eggs on toast. Perfect. If I eat real quickly, we can get back up to that big ol' bed before check out time and you can bash my head against the headboard a few more times."

"Okay!" Blaze swung his hand back and slapped me hard on the backside, making me yelp. "Chop chop, vixen. I have plans for us this afternoon."

"Oh?"

"Not 
those
 plans. God, woman. You'll kill me before the honeymoon." 

I turned away with a blush. In the cold light of day with no alcohol addling my brain, marital buzz words seemed so foreign and terrifying. I was happy to partake in the bravado, but I was definitely not at the point of shopping for a wedding dress.

"So you know, I'm really in no rush to—"

"Me either." Not even pretending to not look relieved, I stepped right up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist.
 
Thank god.
 We were on the same page, and that meant no nasty surprises for either of us. "I'm still not done terrorising you. It's been less than a day, there's no need to rush it all now when we have all the time in the world."

If I was any other woman, I might have worried about the sudden reluctance to start talking flower arrangements, but I was too grateful for the lack of pressure and distracted by the sigh of Esme limping towards us looking horrendous. Everyone suffered when Ivy Tudor spent a night pouring their drinks, and Esme definitely looked to be suffering from the mother of all hangovers.
 

"Breakfast?"

She groaned and raised a hand to me, rubbing at her stomach with the other. "God no. Bloody Mary, please, and don't skimp on the 'bloody'. I'll be sitting outside seeing if I sparkle in sunlight because, honestly, I feel like I've been dead for a thousand years." 

Blaze and I made our orders for breakfast and fooled around like we had in the lift while we waited for our coffee. 'Happy' wasn't a word I could apply to my life often, but that morning, I could. It was short-lived.