Hidden Nymph

HIDDEN NYMPH

Carmie L’Rae

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

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HIDDEN NYMPH

Copyright © 2008 by Carmie L’Rae

E-book ISBN: 1-60601-394-7

First E-book Publication: December 2008

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2008 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

A heartfelt thank you to the amazingly talented Lara Santiago and the always inspiring Jane Leopold Quinn.

HIDDEN NYMPH

CARMIE L’RAE

Copyright © 2008

Dressed up like a slutty woodland waitress wasn’t the worst humiliation Josea could think of, but it was close. She smoothed the short, jagged flaps of leather over her butt and planted one spiked heel on the curb. Gartered black nylons and five inch heels slimmed her athletic legs more than she’d thought possible, and the jasmine crown she wore enveloped her in a cloud of sweet perfume. The scent of flowers was almost strong enough to mask the exhaust fumes assaulting her from the street. Almost. But not quite. The jasmine couldn’t cover the odor of traffic any more than her determination could calm the queasiness in her stomach.

Ahead towered an ornate old building, a far cry from the mid-priced apartment she had rented.

Could she really do this? Did she have a choice?

No, with rent officially past due tomorrow, she didn’t have a choice. Unless begging for money or surviving the next week on tap water and a handful of stale Wheat Thins constituted choices. And they didn’t. Not even for a dull little homebody like herself.

Josea sucked in her breath, and turned her head to avoid a familiar face – Kevin Layton. With an easy grin, Kevin made his way toward the building. His tuxedo lay perfectly against his athletic frame, and his sun-streaked hair shone against the black fabric. She and Kevin had known one another for years and worked for the same law firm 6

Carmie L’Rae

now. Worse, Kevin’s best friend, Ari Davenport, was the one man she couldn’t get out of her mind.

She didn’t move from the curb until Kevin entered the building.

She’d known she might run into people she knew tonight. Atlanta’s social scene could seem small for a city of its size - not exactly a good thing when a woman got desperate enough to trade in her conservative office attire for streetwalker couture and show up at one of the year’s biggest soirees.

Even with tonight’s pending disaster nipping at her heels, she couldn’t turn back. It didn’t matter what price she had to pay, socially or literally to make this move back home. She belonged here, and one way or another, she’d make it work.

Josea hooked her thumbs in the top of her skintight bustier and twisted. The blood flowed back into her breasts, and her nipples tightened as the silk slid against them. The dark hair brushing her shoulders and moving like a lover’s hand across her back was her favorite part of the costume. The soft tresses transformed every movement she made into a sensual stroke, awakening nerves, heating blood. Her body responded with a familiar ache, reminding her how long it had been since she’d had a real lover, a man who gave her more than she dared to ask for.

She closed her eyes, and chocolate brown contacts settled over her pale blue irises. Not even her mother would recognize her in this getup. If she ran into half the attorneys at her firm, no one would know she hid inside this little woodland nymph. She lifted her chin and headed for the building Kevin Layton had entered.

More than one man’s head turned as she approached the double doors, and with every stare, her confidence wavered. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

She strode into the belly of the beast. Instead of fiery breath, a blast of cool air hit her. The lobby boasted creamy stone pillars and heavily veined marble floors gleaming beneath monstrous chandeliers.

Hidden Nymph

7

One suit after another sailed past her. Eyes skimmed her head to toe. She wanted to scream, I am not a prostitute! I’m an attorney. I wear suits just like yours. Or, I will as soon as I start making money.

Who was she kidding? The tailored suits strolling past her cost thousands of dollars. Student loans, deposits for her apartment, and basic utilities had depleted her checking account down to its last twenty dollars. Moving back to the city was no cheap venture. Thank God she had friends. Friends, like Adrianna, who could prance her around like a slut for five hundred dollars a night.

She stifled her dread. The party would benefit a charity, and technically she wasn’t supposed to look like a prostitute or a slut. She was supposed to be a woodland fairy straight out of
A Midsummer
Night’s Dream
, but the costume designer had taken some serious liberties.

She blew a calming breath. She only had to serve drinks to a bunch of rich stiffs she didn’t know, pocket enough money to hold her over to her first paycheck, and go home. Alone. As usual.

Regret settled in. She wished she had the confidence to strut her stuff in this hot little outfit. The fabric caressed her skin. The lines accented her curves and flattered her figure a hell of a lot more than the conservative clothes she stocked in her closet. The little skirt begged her to put a sway in her step. The heels made her look leggy, and the bustier did more for her cleavage than any bra had ever managed.

The second-glances that kept coming her way didn’t bother her nearly as much as she wanted them to. And they empowered her more than she wanted to admit. She had never used her body for leverage.

She used her brains to take her where she wanted to go. Still, an ego stroke could work magic on a woman. Even a no-nonsense career oriented woman like herself.

She stepped into a spacious and elegantly appointed elevator. The attendant glanced at her costume with an appreciative glimmer in his cloudy old eyes. “Penthouse, Ma’am?”

8

Carmie L’Rae

“Yes, please,” Josea mumbled. Or Playboy. Maybe Hustler. She clenched her fingers to keep from tugging at the hem of her skirt. No matter how hard she pulled at the leather, it wouldn’t hide the garters or the band of hosiery on her thighs. She chewed her lip instead and tried to summon the confidence she applied to everything else in her life.

At the top floor, the elevator opened into a foyer turned forest.

Real trees with tiny white lights and Spanish moss dotted the room.

Fairies in identical costumes and an array of hair colors hurried in every direction.

Josea had barely taken a step when a woman dressed in a stark black suit grabbed hold of her arm. “You. Get behind the bar!” The woman’s penciled in eyebrows furrowed in a way that didn’t leave room for questions.

Josea hurried to the polished mahogany bar at the back of the room. Adrianna had been hired to bartend this event. Obviously, she hadn’t shown up yet.

Uncut fruit filled plastic bins on ice beneath the bar. She grabbed a knife and got busy. Prep work was one thing, mixing drinks another.

She wouldn’t hold on to this job long if anyone expected her to do more than pour wine in a glass.

Josea had just sliced the last lime when a petite fairy with long red hair swept behind the bar and squeezed her waist.

“Thanks for covering. Now, shoo!” Adrianna said.

“I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do,” Josea hissed.

“Stand around long enough and somebody will tell you.”

Adrianna winked as she got to work, setting her bar in order.

Josea took a quick inventory of the room. The place was massive, and no expense had been spared to transform every inch of it for tonight’s event. Her eyes followed the back of a man in a tuxedo as he made his way to the door. Something about his gait simultaneously clenched her heart and whirled her mind back to the feel of strong arms and heated skin. Ari? It couldn’t be. What were the chances?

Hidden Nymph

9

She groaned. The familiar figure would explain why Kevin Layton had arrived early, but was now nowhere in sight. Kevin had been Ari Davenport’s best friend since they were kids. Kevin must be somewhere in the back of the house, the part off-limits to party guests.

She whirled back to the bar, her fingernails gripping the polished wood. “Who’s hosting this thing?”

Adrianna swept a washcloth over the bar and shrugged. “Some rich dude. I think he’s a lawyer. Maybe you know him.”

Butterflies attacked her stomach. Oh God. Of all people she might run into this evening, she’d never let herself imagine Ari Davenport might be one of them.

Josea hovered in the corner with a group of fairies while the first of the guests filed in. Her gaze kept wandering to the broad shoulders of the man pumping hands and doling out polite hugs at the door. If it was Ari Davenport, he’d never know she worked at this party tonight.

She would make sure of that.

Shame flared in her chest, and suddenly the quarter inch of garter peeking beneath the hem of her skirt screamed. Dressed like a woman who could quench any man’s desire, she had never felt like such a fraud. Ari would know better than anyone what a farce her costume was, and she couldn’t face humiliating herself in front of him again.

She gave the skirt a tug and took a steadying breath. There wouldn’t be any reason to call attention to herself. She just had to paste on a smile and carry drinks back and forth from the bar. If she could remember Georgia Statutes, she shouldn’t have a problem stuffing a bunch of cocktail requests into her short-term memory.

The man at the door turned slightly, his profile shadowed in the low lighting. Three years, it may not even really be him, and still her legs quivered. If she ever regretted losing a man, it was Ari Davenport. Her cheeks flamed in a heated blush. She knew exactly why she hadn’t tried to hold onto him.

10

Carmie L’Rae

After three dates and the best foreplay she’d ever experienced in her life, she froze. He had offered her a chance to surrender to everything she wanted. Instead, she walked away before she could become a bigger disappointment to him. The rock of regret still sat heavy in her chest.