yourself?” Claire
replied, clasping the other woman's hands in her own. They did the
air kiss thing and stood back to sum each other up.
“Fabulous. Thanks so much for coming. Roger
will be so glad you came.”
“Speaking of Roger, where is he?”
“I'm afraid he got pulled away. He'll be
around. Who's your friend?”
“This is Braxton Hughes from L.A.”
Brax exchanged pleasantries, all the while
looking around the enormous foyer. Priceless antiques and artifacts
dotted the space. It was an art collector’s paradise.
“Enjoy the party,” Rona said, already turning
to greet the next person in line.
“We will,” Claire cooed.
They stepped across the foyer toward the
grand hall. The music and laughter grew louder. Expensive perfume
and spicy cologne filled his nose.
“You know there's a rumor—“ Claire began.
“Claire.” They turned to see a silver-haired
man in an expensive-looking tuxedo.
Brax felt her freeze next to him. “Charles,”
she said, her voice wooden. The two stared at each other in tense
silence. This must be the ex. The last thing Brax needed tonight
was a jealous ex-husband drawing unwanted attention.
“Who's this?” the ex asked.
“Braxton Hughes,” she said, inching closer to
Brax. “My date. Where's what's-her-name?”
“We broke up, mon petite chou .” He
held out his hands, palms up as if to surrender. “ Tu me
monques .”
He saw her shoulders sag just a little as she
put a tiny bit of space between them. The look on her beautifully
made up face told him she was warring inside. It'd take a
coldhearted woman to resist being called a little cabbage by the
man she still loved. And when said man started murmuring things
like 'I miss you', it was a safe bet that Brax was on his own.
“I'm going to go get something to drink,” he
said and excused himself.
The exquisite details of the Neoclassical
architecture weren't lost on him as he made his way through the
crowd. Heavily-carved crown moldings detailed every nook and
corner. Columns soared up to a sculpted ceiling high above the
grand hall.
He strode across the polished black and white
checkerboard marble and almost did a double take as he passed a
heavily gilded mirror. This job had required him to cut and color
his hair a rich chocolate brown. He'd put in contacts to make his
blue eyes green. Gone were his summer surfer dude good looks. He
smiled at the thought.
He wasn't that broken up about losing his
date. At least now he didn't feel like a gigolo. But it would be
more difficult to fit in and snoop around.
He plucked a flute of champagne from a
passing tray and made his way through the huge rooms, casually
looking for his prize.
If I were a priceless bottle of wine,
where would I be? he thought and turned to see a vision walk
through the door. She was tall...even without the killer strappy
heels that made him dream of fast and furious sex. Curvy in all the
right places with lush breasts that would fill his hands and then
some. The midnight blue fabric hugged her pale skin like a glove,
shimmering as she moved. It dipped down deep into her cleavage,
teasing his cock and his eyes.
He stopping breathing as her eyes locked with
his. Classical. Her features, the careful twist of her charcoal
brown hair, the delicate jewelry she wore on her wrist and
ears...all spoke of elegant taste. Her eyes looked blue from here,
but he would need to get closer to see if he was right.
Momentarily, he forgot about the reason for coming to tonight's
party and wondered if she was as soft as she looked. If her
raspberry colored lips would taste sweet and yet tart.
Remembering his mission, he mentally shook
his head and then finished his champagne. “Keep your eye on the
prize,” he muttered to himself and tried to think of every dull,
arcane thing that would keep his cock from standing at attention.
He let his gaze wander around the impressive space as he reviewed
his mental checklist for tonight's reconnaissance mission. Find
replied, clasping the other woman's hands in her own. They did the
air kiss thing and stood back to sum each other up.
“Fabulous. Thanks so much for coming. Roger
will be so glad you came.”
“Speaking of Roger, where is he?”
“I'm afraid he got pulled away. He'll be
around. Who's your friend?”
“This is Braxton Hughes from L.A.”
Brax exchanged pleasantries, all the while
looking around the enormous foyer. Priceless antiques and artifacts
dotted the space. It was an art collector’s paradise.
“Enjoy the party,” Rona said, already turning
to greet the next person in line.
“We will,” Claire cooed.
They stepped across the foyer toward the
grand hall. The music and laughter grew louder. Expensive perfume
and spicy cologne filled his nose.
“You know there's a rumor—“ Claire began.
“Claire.” They turned to see a silver-haired
man in an expensive-looking tuxedo.
Brax felt her freeze next to him. “Charles,”
she said, her voice wooden. The two stared at each other in tense
silence. This must be the ex. The last thing Brax needed tonight
was a jealous ex-husband drawing unwanted attention.
“Who's this?” the ex asked.
“Braxton Hughes,” she said, inching closer to
Brax. “My date. Where's what's-her-name?”
“We broke up, mon petite chou .” He
held out his hands, palms up as if to surrender. “ Tu me
monques .”
He saw her shoulders sag just a little as she
put a tiny bit of space between them. The look on her beautifully
made up face told him she was warring inside. It'd take a
coldhearted woman to resist being called a little cabbage by the
man she still loved. And when said man started murmuring things
like 'I miss you', it was a safe bet that Brax was on his own.
“I'm going to go get something to drink,” he
said and excused himself.
The exquisite details of the Neoclassical
architecture weren't lost on him as he made his way through the
crowd. Heavily-carved crown moldings detailed every nook and
corner. Columns soared up to a sculpted ceiling high above the
grand hall.
He strode across the polished black and white
checkerboard marble and almost did a double take as he passed a
heavily gilded mirror. This job had required him to cut and color
his hair a rich chocolate brown. He'd put in contacts to make his
blue eyes green. Gone were his summer surfer dude good looks. He
smiled at the thought.
He wasn't that broken up about losing his
date. At least now he didn't feel like a gigolo. But it would be
more difficult to fit in and snoop around.
He plucked a flute of champagne from a
passing tray and made his way through the huge rooms, casually
looking for his prize.
If I were a priceless bottle of wine,
where would I be? he thought and turned to see a vision walk
through the door. She was tall...even without the killer strappy
heels that made him dream of fast and furious sex. Curvy in all the
right places with lush breasts that would fill his hands and then
some. The midnight blue fabric hugged her pale skin like a glove,
shimmering as she moved. It dipped down deep into her cleavage,
teasing his cock and his eyes.
He stopping breathing as her eyes locked with
his. Classical. Her features, the careful twist of her charcoal
brown hair, the delicate jewelry she wore on her wrist and
ears...all spoke of elegant taste. Her eyes looked blue from here,
but he would need to get closer to see if he was right.
Momentarily, he forgot about the reason for coming to tonight's
party and wondered if she was as soft as she looked. If her
raspberry colored lips would taste sweet and yet tart.
Remembering his mission, he mentally shook
his head and then finished his champagne. “Keep your eye on the
prize,” he muttered to himself and tried to think of every dull,
arcane thing that would keep his cock from standing at attention.
He let his gaze wander around the impressive space as he reviewed
his mental checklist for tonight's reconnaissance mission. Find
Similar Books
