A Taste of Winter: 1 (Red Masks) (4 page)

“Have you known Zayne Saladar long?” she asked instead.

“We met in college and again in Iraq just a few years ago.”

“I didn’t know you were in the military.”

“I wasn’t. Zayne contacted me about designing some cheap and
effective housing for cities that had been bombed in the war. We were both
architectural students at Cornell University, having a shared interest in
historical design. But we were both also fascinated by out-of-the-box design
ideas, such as refurbishing old shipping crates into affordable housing—a
project that is being utilized in many places today.”

“Did the trip go well?” She wasn’t certain why she was so
interested in his past but there was some shadow of discomfort in his voice
that intrigued her, his tone so carefully neutral it was almost unnatural. He
was holding something back and when his jaw clenched she become more than
curious to hear the end of the story.

“No. Two weeks in we planned an excursion to several small
villages north of Baghdad. I was in charge of securing transportation while
Zayne and his wife Laylia rounded up the necessary permission forms. I turned
over my part of the job to an assistant who didn’t check to make certain we had
enough fuel to get us there and back. We ran out of gas several miles from the
city.”

He broke off abruptly to take a long drink of his water. “Do
you really want to hear the sordid details?” Despite the sardonic twist of his
lips, Alaina could sense a deep-rooted pain and nothing in the world could have
prevented her from getting the entire story.

“Please go on.”

Now it was his turn to look away. “To make a long story
short, Zayne and Laylia radioed for help. The call was intercepted by a rogue
Taliban faction. When they arrived they accused Zayne and his wife of treason
and me of being a government spy. They shot Laylia and stabbed Zayne in the
back when he tried to help her. Luckily a U.S. patrol intervened but Laylia was
already dead and it was my fault.”

“Ryan, I am so sorry. That must have been horrible.” Without
thinking she reached out to take his hand. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“I passed the work off to an assistant and did not check
that it was done properly.” For the first time, she saw the weight of the guilt
he carried and understood his need for complete control. He’d been burned badly
and it had cost his best friend’s wife her life. He would never let himself be
put in such a position again.

He slid his hand from under hers as the server returned with
the champagne and poured them each a glass. “But the past cannot be undone much
as we would like to change it.” He reached in his pocket and passed an envelope
across the table. “Official confirmation that our contract is ended.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of another thing to say and was
spared the embarrassment of having to stammer something mindlessly when Zayne
arrived.

“Just in time, I see.” With a smile he grabbed Ryan’s glass
and motioned the server to bring another, bending to take Alaina’s hand. “I am
pleased you have come. I hope my friend has not been difficult company.” He
looked back and forth between the two of them and Alaina was certain he
detected the tension in the air.

“No, not at all.” In fact it had been the best conversation
she’d ever had with her ex-boss, one she wished they’d had months ago. But she
knew Ryan wasn’t a man to give out personal information lightly and she felt as
if she’d been granted access to a side of him he never would have shown her if
not for Zayne and his purchase of the building. She smiled and bent to retrieve
her files. “I brought a brief portfolio to show you some of my work.”

He waved the folder away as he sat down beside her. “You
already have the job if you want it. Ryan’s recommendation was more than enough
for me. What are we having for dinner that would come close to matching this
excellent vintage?”

“I have already taken the liberty of ordering,” Ryan
answered, sitting back in his chair. “If you trust that I know your tastes,
Alaina.”

Her head shot up at his words with an uncanny sensation of
déjà vu, but before she could place the thought their first course arrived, a
roasted vegetable salad. She studied Zayne as they ate, admiring his elegant
hands and his liquid-black eyes, so dark they looked as if they were rimmed in
kohl, his mouth full and sensual but bracketed by lines that hinted at the
tragedy of his past. His wife must have been amazingly beautiful. Sorrow washed
over her at the thought.

“What do you plan to do with the old orphanage and when
would you like to start the work?”

“It will be a center for women and children. Dedicated to my
late wife. A thing I could never do in my home country.” His eyes shadowed with
long-buried grief, but Alaina sensed an undercurrent of rage lurking behind the
pain and she realized that Zayne Saladar might be a more tortured man than he
outwardly appeared. Women were still treated worse than livestock in many
countries in the Middle East and it took a very enlightened man to break free
of his cultural biases.

She liked Zayne Saladar more and more. By the time they
ordered coffee Alaina was so stuffed she thought she could barely waddle to the
bathroom but excused herself anyway as nature forced her hand.

Ryan had remained relatively silent after Zayne’s arrival
but Alaina had been overly aware of him nonetheless—a compelling presence that
kept her body on high alert, especially when she caught him watching her with a
look that said he would rather be having her for dinner…or with dessert and
coffee.

After smoothing down her hair and making certain she didn’t
have any food stuck between her teeth—or telltale signs that she in any way
returned Ryan’s attraction—Alaina returned to the table only to find that their
dishes and been cleared and the bill presented. Ryan paid and left a very
generous tip, to his credit.

“So you will have the initial design drawn up for me by the
end of the week and we will begin construction by the end of the month.” Zayne
stood and offered her his hand, helping her rise.

Ryan remained conspicuously seated.

“Thank you, gentlemen, for such a lovely evening. I can’t
wait to get started on the project.” Alaina gathered her portfolio along with
the document from Ryan.

Zayne brought her hand to his lips, giving her an
appreciative look from under his thick black lashes. “Good. I have already
called my driver. He is waiting to take you home. Until we meet again.”

“Good night.” Alaina smiled at Zayne, giving Ryan only the
briefest of nods before she turned and walked away, aware that both men watched
her intently, wondering that their friendship had survived despite the tragedy
in their past.

But her night of passion combined with lack of sleep and the
overexcitement of the day were taking their toll as Zayne’s driver opened the
car door and ushered her inside. By the time she was back at her apartment
Alaina was already half asleep and tumbling into her bed, her only thought was
of the masked stranger and the wicked delights of the Red Mask Society.

* * * * *

“You have made her yours?” Zayne asked when Alaina was out
of earshot.

“Almost.” Ryan could not keep his eyes off the sway of her
ass as she walked away or the sheen of her hair where it tumbled over her
shoulders.

Zayne snorted, a most unpleasant sound. “Is she yours or is
she not? Have you at least taken her to your bed, my friend?”

“I have but she doesn’t know it yet.” When Zayne twisted his
mouth in disbelief, Ryan clapped him hard on the back. “Come. Let me show you
something you will find most interesting.”

When the package arrived at her apartment promptly at nine
Monday morning, Alaina gaped at the ruby-red paper and ribbon and knew exactly
where it had come from. What was Madame Manette up to, sending her something
here at her apartment where anyone might see?

Not that the driver had on any identifying attire. Nor was
there a thing on the outside of the package that remotely resembled
incriminating. Discreet and understated just like the woman promised.

This came here for you last night. I am forwarding it at
the man’s request. MM.

He’d sent her a present? Was that allowable? Obviously gifts
were not considered monetary payments. A fine line but one she was willing to
let stand—especially since she was beyond intrigued as to just what was inside
the box.

Before she could change her mind and send the gift back
unopened, Alaina cut through the ribbon and paper to reveal a sleek black box
with another note on top.

She opened it with trembling fingers, disgusted that she
suddenly remembered every slick of his tongue along her flesh and every word he
said as he pushed her over the edge.

You will wear these for me Saturday night, eight o’clock
sharp. Do not be late or I will have to punish you.

Indeed? They would have to see about that. But before she
decided to send him a scathing refusal, Alaina opened the box and gasped in
shock at its contents.

The first thing she pulled out was a red leather blindfold,
followed by a collar and leash made of the same material. Next came a red
leather dress that zipped all the way down the back, cut so low in the front
she knew she couldn’t wear it in public without being arrested for indecent
exposure.

But the Red Mask Society wasn’t public
, a wicked side
of her protested. And a scarf draped around her neck would cover the collar and
cleavage quite nicely.

Was she actually considering wearing the things?

Absolutely not.

She was just about to stuff the entire lot away and send it
back to Madame Manette with a polite thanks-but-no-thanks when she spotted a
jewelry box, the Tiffany label unmistakable. Inside was a platinum bracelet
with a diamond-and-ruby-studded charm in the shape of a mask.

Would she go?
Could
she go?

He’d hinted at what he wanted to do with her…things she’d
never contemplated with another man. Now that her sexual side had been
reawakened, however, she admitted she was willing to expand her repertoire—not
that she was in any way certain how far she was prepared to go.

But she did have her safeword and he had promised to stop at
once if she ever uttered it. The question she had to ask herself was did she
trust him? And if she didn’t trust him she had no business keeping either the
gifts he had sent or the upcoming tryst set for the weekend.

Unable to decide, Alaina shoved the box in a corner of her
closet, refusing to look at it until she’d made up her mind. Still, she had to
force herself not to open it a dozen or more times the rest of the day—and
night—and the next day after that.

By Friday Alaina was going out of her mind with boredom. She’d
already sent Zayne her preliminary designs—which he’d approved without a single
change—and there was little else she could do before the building inspections
were finished and she was allowed inside to examine it more closely.

Unable to stand herself any longer, she yanked the bright-red
box from the closet, took out the delicate bracelet and clasped it around her
wrist. The jewels caught and refracted the light as she held it up and admired
it from all angles, loving the way it looked against her skin.

She also removed the leather dress and accessories, hanging
them up in her closet after burying her face in the supple material and
breathing in its elegant scent. Looking in the mirror she held the collar to
her throat, imagining how it would feel to wear it—how he would look when she stepped
into the room.

When her body began its all-too-familiar ache of longing,
Alaina hurriedly slipped the collar around the hanger, shoving the entire
ensemble back out of sight.

Picking up her cell phone for the millionth time in less
than an hour, she cursed Ryan to several different hells. How was it he managed
to creep under her skin by doing the one thing she’d wanted him to do for
months? Leave her completely alone.

While she’d railed and spit and refused to answer when he
was making constant contact, his complete and sudden absence was nearly more
than she could stand. She’d found herself dialing his number more than once,
ostensibly to ask if the LaRue House had met with his final approval or if he’d
hired a different contractor to make any last-minute changes. In an agony of
curiosity she decided to go for a walk down Merchant Street. If she happened to
pass the LaRue House, it would be purely coincidental.

An hour later she returned to her apartment still not knowing
if she was satisfied or not. While the building remained as she’d finished it,
she hadn’t seen a peek of Ryan, not even the shadow of his sleek black sedan.
Disappointment weighed her down as she checked her phone once more, only to
toss it on the counter in disgust when she didn’t see his number.

Did she actually miss the bastard?

Not a chance in hell, she assured herself as she went to her
closet to make certain the red leather dress was just where she had left it.
Bad enough to go crazy over one man—she had to go and make herself crazy over
two!

* * * * *

Yes he was obsessive and yes he had picked up his phone to
call her more times than he cared to admit. As Ryan continued to wear a rut
across office floor he imagined what sinful things he would do to Miss Alaina
Winter when Saturday night finally arrived.

She would be late, very late, but his hand would not be
swayed. No matter how she begged or pleaded with those magnificent eyes of hers,
he would turn her across his lap and spank her until he was satisfied. Then he
would have her on her knees between his legs with her amazing mouth wrapped
around his cock. Just the thought of the night to come made him surly with
need.

So surly he’d already fired two potential contractors this
week, neither of whom had an inkling of architectural design.

Or an ass to die for.

The utter inappropriateness of his hiring criteria did
nothing to elevate his mood and by four o’clock Saturday afternoon he’d already
quit work for the day, something he’d never even contemplated before.

Turning the water all the way to cold in his shower, he
stayed under the spray for a full twenty minutes. Only then did his dickshrink back to normal so he
could stuff himself into his jeans without doing major damage.

* * * * *

Alaina’s car pulled up to the curb at 8:03 p.m. by her cell
phone. After an entire day spent in a state of indecision and raging desire
she’d made a desperate last-minute decision that still had her stomach tied in
knots.

Surely three minutes wasn’t late.

At least not late enough to warrant anything severe.

Spotting him the instant she entered the ballroom Alaina
watched as his head shot around in her direction, his expression unreadable as
the crowd milled between them.

He didn’t raise a hand in greeting or motion her toward him
as she hesitated on the stairs but she could feel his gaze rake over her,
calculating, possessing, as if he’d already planned every stroke of his hand or
flick of his fingers.

He remained motionless as she gathered up her courage and
crossed the room, a figure carved from stone, so stern and aloof she had to
fight to keep from turning on her heel and fleeing for her safety.

But this was a public place, right? And she had a safeword.
And really, how displeased could he possibly be?

More than she’d bargained for his expression said when she
was near enough to see it. “You are late,” he said, his mouth compressed into a
forbidding line. “Did I not make my expectation clear?”

Deciding honesty was her best defense, she raised her chin
and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I would come.
It wasn’t an easy decision to make,” she added when he gave no sign of
softening.

“No,” he relented at last as his voice returned to its usual
purr. “I do not believe it was. Take off the scarf and let me see you.”

With hands suddenly grown clumsy, Alaina tugged off the
scarf, letting it fall to the floor at her feet. She tried her best to brave
his assessment, shoulders back and chin held high as his gaze roamed like a
caress across her flesh before he knelt and grabbed the scarf, his face so
close to the juncture of her thighs, she swore she could feel the heat of his
breath.

With a predatory grace he rose to his feet, moving close to
whisper in her ear, “I can smell your need. I remember the taste of you on my
tongue—a taste I plan to enjoy again. After you have paid for your disobedience.”
His voice was so cold it brought prickles to her skin.

Alaina could barely breathe as he draped the scarf over his
shoulder and handed her a glass of champagne. But she noted his hand was not as
steady as before and she reveled in the power she had to arouse him.

Gathering her courage, she stepped closer until her breasts
brushed against his jacket and her hips grazed his already impressive erection.

“Bold tonight are we, little one?” His voice held both
amusement and displeasure, the combination heady in its contradiction. He shook
his head and grabbed the leash to her collar, pulling her face to his. “Do you
really want to test my resolve?” His mouth was barely a breath away from hers
and Alaina wanted to beg him to kiss her but he pulled back with a smile when
she moved to put her lips to his.

“Have you eaten? Good,” he said when she nodded in assent.

She wanted to protest as they crossed the busy ballroom
floor, to tell him in no uncertain terms she would not let him treat her this
way but the flutter of excitement at the pit of her stomach and the growing
slick of hunger between her legs kept her silent and submissive.

“So you will go to the bathroom, take off your crystal
mask—much as it does suit your beauty—and put on the leather one I gave you.”

“But then I can’t see you.” Alaina couldn’t imagine passing
the night without being able to watch his eyes or see the play of muscle
beneath his skin. She wanted to see him in all his glorious maleness—wanted to
stare in fascination as she pleased him.

The sudden jerk on her leash sent her tumbling into his
chest, a flash of irritation rising at his action.

“You will wear the mask.” He raised a hand in dismissal as
she opened her mouth to argue. “You have already managed to accumulate four
decent swats to that perky ass of yours. I doubt you wish to add another. Or do
you?”

His voice was a whisper as he moved to take off his jacket,
leaving Alaina fighting for balance as he released her. “And it would be a
shame to spend such a long portion of our time together in punishment when
there are so many other joys to explore.”

Huh.
She got the feeling he would be more than happy
to spank her until she begged him to stop but she most certainly wasn’t looking
forward to spending the night splayed across his lap. Still, as she pictured
the scenario in her mind, she rose to a brand-new level of want, every nerve
and every muscle tingling in dark and dangerous glee. In that position he could
do things to her she’d barely dreamed of and her body was more than willing to
comply, even if her mind continued to object.

“Should I undress as well?” she heard herself ask as he
unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up the starched cuffs of his sleeves.
A
perfect male
, some ancient part of her whispered,
a man worthy enough to
obey.

“No. I reserve that pleasure for myself. You have two
minutes,” he added darkly as he glanced at his watch. “I suggest you hurry.”

Breathless with anxiety, Alaina fled to the bathroom to
change masks, barely taking the time to notice the crimson towels stacked on
the counter and a matching rug beneath her feet.

After taking off the crystal mask she stared at her
reflection, her cheeks flushed and her eyes aglow, her expression so different
from normal she almost seemed a stranger to herself.

Her legs began to tremble as she pulled the blindfold into
place and she felt a moment’s panic that she could not see a thing—ready to
change her mind and walk out. But her body had other plans, so she felt her way
to the door, taking in a huge gulp of air as she pushed it open.

“Follow my voice,” he said from across the room. “I am ready
to administer your punishment.”

* * * * *

Ryan waited in a surge of anticipation as he watched her
make her way toward him, seeing the furious rise and fall of her chest as she
worked her way into a near panic.

Good. This was very good.

“Stop,” he ordered when she stood but a foot away, her
breath so ragged he could practically feel it against his face.

He had taken off his mask along with his clothing while she
had been in the bathroom and it was exquisite to be so free in her presence.
His erection had long passed the point of discomfort but it wouldn’t be long
before he found the sharp bite of release. And in the meantime he had other
delights to take his mind off the need.

“Give me your hand.” He wrapped his fingers around hers when
she obeyed, loving the way her hand shook against his palm. Her knees were
shaking as well, he noted, dark desire taking hold of his thoughts.

With an easy jerk, she fell against him, gasping in dismay
as her other hand landed on the leather paddle he held. She tried to pull back,
shaking her head in denial, but he wasn’t about to let her get away.