Caught in the Act (2 page)

“True. But we can’t see how often it does, right? Those people never appear in my office or at your bar,” Mason replied with a nod.

“Always the logical one. Should know better than to argue with you, Mason,” Ryan said, chuckling.

“That’s what I’ve always said.”

“But seriously, I can’t imagine settling down with one woman when there are so many beautiful ones out there.”

“Someday. Someday, Ryan, maybe you’ll find the one that makes you forget the rest.”

Ryan grunted his doubts, leering at a sexy demon as she passed by on her way to the bar, sheathed in red spandex, her tail flicking wickedly behind her.

“Well, may that day be far, far away,” he said with a low whistle.

“I’m sure it is. Is that paint permanent?” Mason asked about his brother’s tribal markings.

“It’s edible, man. It can be licked off.”

Mason held up his hands and cut off his brother’s next comment. “Okay, that comes dangerously close to an image I don’t want in my head.”

“Sorry.” Ryan laughed, completely unabashed and not really sorry at all. Ryan’s hand clamped on his brother’s shoulder. “You need to loosen up, Mason. You’re wearing your suit and tie even when you’re not. Find a woman here and have some fun. That’s what I intend to do,” he said, making eye contact with Miss Muffet, who smiled coyly in their direction.

“Yeah, whatever,” Mason said, feeling unaccountably old at that moment. As he watched Ryan strut across the room, he thought maybe his younger brother was right. He should be enjoying his own party, and why do that alone? Sporting a fangy smile, he started moving around the crowd, looking for a woman whom he might like to bite.

It just so happened he didn’t have to look for long—in fact, she popped out in front of the entire room, appearing on the stage in a breathtaking glimmer of cherry-red. Large brown eyes took them all in for a moment, her curly dark hair framing a delicate, heart-shaped face, at least insofar as he could tell with her mask covering the top half of it.
Her lips were painted as red as her costume. He couldn’t look away.

Mason walked closer to the edge of the temporary stage he’d had set up for the party’s entertainment. She wasn’t small, maybe just a few inches shorter than his six-foot frame, though it was hard to tell since she was wearing heels that inspired lust low in his belly.

His eyes traveled up the pale length of shapely calf and thigh to the sensuous blossom of her hip, the inviting dip into a slim waist that expanded back out again at the level of ample breasts, barely covered by slim strips of sparkling red material. She filled out that bodysuit in a way that made him stop breathing when he took a closer look. He licked his lips, wanting more than a bite.

She seemed surprised, as if she hadn’t expected the crowd—was she new to this? Maybe all performers had some stage fright before a performance, similar to the nervous energy he always experienced when going to court.

Then those supple red lips revealed a perfect smile. She said “Hi, there” in a sultry voice that fantasies were made of. His dick sprang instantly hard and he was thankful for the dark outfit and the cape.

The audience crowded inward, several whistles welcoming her. Her slow walk to center stage was the stuff of all men’s dreams. With a look at the band, and then back at the crowd before her, she winked. It might as well have been him standing there alone as aware as he was of anyone else—there was only her.

She was magic.

Who was this amazing woman? She ran through a little nervous patter, as if she was still getting used to the idea of being up on stage. It was utterly charming, only adding to her sex appeal. The crowd loved her before she’d even sung a note.

Mason swallowed deeply as the room went black, anticipation rising. Another light clicked on and he breathed again as he saw she was still there. A spotlight focused only on her, with her back to the crowd, revealing a rear view that was just as luscious as the front. He flexed his hands, thinking about closing his palms over that absolutely perfect ass.

She tipped her cane to a saucy angle and started tapping her foot in time with the hushed drumbeat as music started. When she turned, letting the first lyric slide out on a throaty note that was part growl, part whisper, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, though he’d gladly follow her to hell for a body and a voice like hers.

“Man, she’s smokin’,” a voice said beside him, filled with sheer male appreciation and no small amount of lust. Mason just glared, drawing an inquisitive look from the guy he realized was one of the senior partners, Ron Deerfield, who was in his fifties, long married with grandchildren.

“Smokin’?”

“Yes, sir, a hottie. You know her, I take it?” Ron asked.

“No, but I’m going to,” Mason said resolutely.

Ron laughed and nodded in agreement. “If I were twenty years younger and Joan wouldn’t flay me alive, I’d give you a run for your money getting to her first.”

Mason looked at him in shock, and Ron laughed, slapping him on the back. “Hey, I’m fifty-five, not dead. And I have the kids around constantly. They keep me young. I wonder who she is. Star quality, that one.”

Mason lost track of the conversation as he realized the singer never introduced herself. Odd, especially if this is how she made her bread and butter. As she wrapped up a snazzy tune, some of the crowd sang along. She had them in the palm of her hand. People were dancing and shouting in raucous appreciation as she flipped her hat out into the crowd.

After what seemed like hours, she finished with her first set, taking bows and exiting the stage. Mason nearly plowed over a few people, including a few very lucrative clients, rushing to meet her behind the makeshift curtain. As he pushed the heavy material to the side and searched for a scarlet sparkle, there was nothing.

She was gone.

G
INA COULDN’T ESCAPE
fast enough, bolting once she got back behind the curtain, making a beeline for the bathroom she’d noticed earlier.

Lord, she was shaking like a leaf, adrenaline pounding through her system, and she thought she might be sick.

It had been one of the most incredible experiences of her life. Even if she did have a heart attack now that it was over, she’d die happy. The first song had been a bit pitchy, but then she’d found her rhythm and something had clicked. The audience was so responsive she couldn’t help but let loose and give it her all. It was as if she’d turned into a completely different woman on stage.

As she passed by the mirror in the bathroom, she caught sight of her sexy outfit and flushed cheeks, and looked into her own large, bright eyes. Was that her?

Wow.

She
did
look sexy, like she’d just had a heck of a roll in the hay, though to be honest, her performance was more satisfying and exciting than any sex she’d had in her life. Sad, but true.

It had to be the outfit, the disguise. She’d once heard Halloween referred to as “Come as you aren’t night,” and that was certainly true in her case. She’d never been as overtly sexy as she’d been on stage. She’d never have been able to carry it off without the mask and knowing she was completely anonymous.

It was also liberating not to be compared to Tracy for once. She’d never really understood how much she craved that, to be at center stage, growing up in her pretty, younger sister’s shadow. The thought sobered her and reminded her why she was here, and it wasn’t for the ego boost.

She was here to steal those photos from Mason Scott, who’d been front and center for her performance. Even in his costume, she’d recognized him from his picture on the Internet Web site for his firm. He was much more imposing in person. She’d tried to avoid eye contact, but the guy was like a magnet. His presence filled the room, a sexy vampire looking at her like she was dinner. The way his eyes latched on to her made her feel even more naked than she actually was.

Oddly, she’d liked it. Or her make-believe self did, anyway.

Mason had made her hotter with a look than any other man had done with more, and she had to remind herself he was the enemy. A sinfully gorgeous enemy who had a heavy swath of dark hair falling partly down over his brow and intense green eyes. Even his makeup and fangs couldn’t mask his strong jawline and passionate mouth, or his nicely shaped, classic chin.

Moving to the sink, she splashed a little cold water on her face and calmed down somewhat. Her cabaret singer self wondered what it would have been like to sing a song right to Mason, to tempt him the way he was tempting her. What would it be like to be with a man like that?

“This costume is doing things to my brain, apparently,” she whispered to herself, shaking off the fantasy and intending to blend in to the crowd.

Taking a deep breath, she oriented herself in the room and spotted the main hallway that Tracy said led to the back offices. Getting there was a whole different deal—someone stopped her every three feet to praise her performance. When the waiter offered her a drink, she took it, downing the champagne in one shot and grabbing a second for courage.

By the time she reached the hallway on the other side, she was giddy and overly warm, and she had collected three men’s phone numbers—not that she planned on using them, but still…Maybe she’d crash costume parties more often.

Peeking around to make sure she wasn’t seen slipping away, she made her way down the hall and spotted the large double doors that led to the office. Turning the knob, she found the doors were locked, as she expected. Of course her life would never be that easy.

However, Tracy had described a second entrance, off of another hallway—one that only Mason used. Maybe it wasn’t locked, since no one would be in that part of the house.

Exploring some of the pathways off the main hall, she began to get frustrated and worried—how many rooms did this place have? Finally, she saw a small door at the bottom of a set of narrow stairs, and tried that. Voila! It opened, and inside the office sprawled before her.

She might have walked onto the set of a TV legal drama, the set was so classic. Bookcases on every side, lots of leather and a huge desk dominating the center of the room. Several deep, comfortable chairs were placed by the bookshelves and there was a huge grandfather clock in one corner. She wondered if Mason was a traditional guy, or if this was just his professional persona. The way he’d watched her earlier certainly hadn’t been in the least bit staid.

“Okay…so, he must have files, and the pictures would probably be in the files,” she reasoned out loud, heading to several large, wooden file cabinets behind the desk.

“Well, this is a mess—he doesn’t file alphabetically! What the hell?” she cursed under her breath—there was definitely some kind of order to the files, but apparently it was one that only made sense to Mason. How was she supposed to search through all of these for Tracy’s file without knowing how his system worked?

“Dammit!” she cursed again, unsure she was going to be able to save the day for her little sister this time.

Her search lasted only a few minutes when she
finally saw Rio’s initials on a folder and she said a quick, thankful prayer.

Yes.
There were several photos. Gina yanked them from the file and gasped, shocked to look closer and see her sister standing on a dock in a hot clinch with a strange man. Other pictures revealed more intimate moments, and Gina would have died of embarrassment for her sister if she weren’t so angry. The pictures were incriminating and they exposed far more of Tracy than anyone should see.

But Tracy was involved in much more than a one-night stand. The dates in the lower corner of the photos indicated they had been taken in different locations over a number of weeks. Tracy wanted Gina to help her get rid of the evidence of her affair, and had clearly played on Gina’s sympathies.

What should she do? Tracy was putting Gina in the middle of her divorce power play, pushing her affair with this new man in Rio’s face. She just hadn’t considered the consequences.

Putting the photos back, Gina decided that Tracy was going to have to pay the piper this time and take responsibility for her actions. Gina shoved the folder into the drawer. This was wrong, and she wasn’t going to be part of it. They were adults now, and Gina had to draw the line somewhere.

Her relief was short-lived. It was then that heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, and she heard the dooming slide of a key into the lock of the main doors.

Pushing the drawer quietly shut, she nearly vaulted over the desk and threw herself into a large leather chair in front of it. There was no place to hide and she’d never make it out before whoever it was came in.

The main doors swung open, and Gina’s thoughts raced—what would a sexy cabaret singer do if she was caught someplace she wasn’t supposed to be? Instinctively, she leaned back into the chair, striking what she hoped was a sexy pose. When Mason walked in, she smiled.

“Count—what a nice surprise,” she said in a sultry voice that was husky largely because her throat was closing from fear.

Mason stopped short, staring at her, his eyes narrowed. “The doors were locked. How did you get in here?”

“A lady shouldn’t give away all of her secrets,” she hedged, but as his eyebrow lifted and she could see he wasn’t going to let the issue go, she said the only thing she could think of on the fly. “Your assistant let me in,” she said, hoping against hope the woman who’d dragged her up on stage was his assistant. It seemed a reasonable deduction. She just hoped he didn’t check out her story.

He nodded, and closed the doors behind him. “I’ll have to speak to her about that. These are private quarters.”

“Please don’t be mad at her. I needed someplace to get a bit of downtime after the performance, and she said you wouldn’t mind if I just hung out here for a little while. People wouldn’t leave me alone for a minute.”

“It’s no wonder. You were very good,” he murmured, then sighed. “I wish she’d told me. Then I would have known where to find you.”

“Find me?” Gina said with a slight squeak, sipping the champagne she’d left on the desk. Why had he been trying to find her?

“I looked for you after your show, but you seemed to disappear.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. “I was in the ladies’ room.”

She swung one leg back and forth, as if to soundless music, but each time she did so her thighs parted ever so slightly. His eyes fixed on the expanse of thigh she was flashing.

“Do you bite?” she asked, sliding nimbly to her feet to lean against the desk.

He walked closer, his eyes moving over her as if he could see right through her. She swallowed deeply. He was much more imposing, and sexy, close up. Trim and muscular, his jaw was square, his nose patrician. A dashing lock of hair had escaped, brushing the mask that covered intense green eyes. Then Gina made the mistake of focusing on his mouth.
Completely kissable,
she thought, unable to look away.

“You never know. Vampires aren’t to be toyed with.”

“Maybe I like living dangerously,” she purred, almost biting her tongue at her own bravado.

Her? Live dangerously? Nothing was further from the truth. And yet here she was.

Was she actually doing this? Was she tempting this
man, seducing her sister’s enemy? But he wasn’t the enemy, was he? He was just a lawyer, doing his job. A handsome, sexy, successful man who looked at her as if she was delicious.

Gina wanted to think she didn’t have a choice, but she was an adult and she knew there was always a choice. She could have walked right back out the door and saved her skin, hauling butt home to confront her sister. Or she could be the adventurous woman she was pretending to be, just for a while.

This was a moment that would never come again, she knew. A chance to be impulsive and wild. To be with a man who wouldn’t give her a second glance otherwise. There was no denying the chemistry sizzling between them. Why not give in to it?

He had kind eyes, she thought, looking into them fully. He was even more gorgeous when he smiled. She’d come here for her sister, but maybe she’d stay for herself. Tonight, in this bad girl costume, alone with this sexy vampire, she wasn’t Gina anymore. For a little while, she could be anyone—do anything—that she could imagine.

Before she lost her nerve, she grabbed the edge of his cape and tugged him down so that she could lean up and take those perfect lips in a kiss. He pulled away for a second to lose his fake fangs, and before she took another breath he was backing her against the desk, pressed up flush against her, kissing her like she was his last meal.

There was no denying his intent; his erection pressed
against her belly and she let him know what she wanted, wrapping her legs around him and pressing close, a shiver of desire spreading over her.

He set her on the edge of the hard mahogany desk, bearing down, pressing even closer.

She could feel him everywhere, but he wasn’t nearly
everywhere
enough. Mason’s tongue stroking hers initiated a chain reaction of fantasies about everything else she’d like him to taste. She’d had her share of fantasies, but nothing in her own past even compared. Her responses finally set her free in a way she’d never experienced.

She was so wet, her body tightening in some places and softening in others, ready for him. She wondered if it was possible to orgasm just from a kiss…it was a giddy thought, and she suspected she was almost close enough. Grinding against him, she let her head fall back as ripples of pleasure ran over her, making her sigh.

“That was very good,” she said with a smile, meeting his eyes when he chuckled in response and shook his head. Had she done something wrong?

“What?” she asked, puzzled by the amusement in his gaze, though there was nothing censuring there. His hands came up, closing over her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her to create taut peaks from her nipples until she warmed again.

“Honey, I don’t know who’s made you come before, but if that mere shiver is all that they gave you, you have a surprise in store,” he said gruffly. Removing her top,
he drew the tip of her breast into his mouth, sucking until her hands were buried in his hair, noises coming from her throat that she’d never made before.

She didn’t have time to question his comment, but just wished he’d keep on doing what he was doing.

Mason ran his hands up her thighs to slide inside the strips of material that still covered her, easing both thumbs in between the plump lips of her sex. She held on to his shoulders, enjoying the play of muscles under her fingers as he massaged her intimately until she was sure her limbs had turned to jelly.

“You’re so hot. Like wet satin,” he said roughly, wasting no time as he stripped her of her outfit, peeling her naked like ripe fruit in his hands. “You’re a siren, a singer tempting me to my doom?”

She smiled. “Does this seem like your doom?”

“Hardly,” he countered. “But you are temptation made flesh.”

When he reached for the mask, she turned her head away.

“No—the mask stays on,” she said. “The hat, too,” she said, hoping it sounded like a naughty request instead of her trying to maintain some anonymity.

“Whatever my siren wants, she gets,” he said playfully.

“I want you as naked as I am,” Gina responded, her everyday persona gone by the wayside as she really did become his temptress. As long as her hat and mask stayed in place, she could be anyone, do anything.

Mason shucked his pants quickly. Gina sighed in
appreciation at the sight of his large, hard shaft, fully erect.

He turned from her, reaching for something in his pants pocket. She was relieved to see him holding a small packet taken from his wallet, but shocked that she hadn’t even thought about it. Normally, she was careful.

When he was sheathed, he came back and slid his hands up and down her legs before lifting a knee over each shoulder as she planted her hands behind her on the surface of the desk.