All in the Chemistry [The Royal Wolves 4] (Siren Publishing Allure) (4 page)

“God, I must be a masochist to have the hots for someone who hates me and thinks that my work is ‘subpar.’” Although even she had to admit that the work he was judging was work she wouldn’t have submitted but was stolen from her by the board to try to push through and get approved. “I think that maybe it’s time for me to find a new line of work.” Just the thought of how they had more than once taken material that wasn’t complete or ready was enough to make her blood boil.

It was some time later as she sat in her living room with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands and only a robe on her body that she sat, looking at the painting. This one she was keeping. This wasn’t one that was going to be donated to the children’s hospital for auction, no this one was hers. Warsaw C. would just have to give another painting to be auctioned.

Stepping from the shower Kristof dried slowly as his mind replayed the dream, picking at everything, trying to find a clue. The green eyes, eyes she’d hidden until the very end were a huge clue. But how many women had green eyes? He had to admit, not many would have a green that vibrant, hers were unique. Tossing the towel he went to get dressed before grabbing coffee and heading out the door, he had things to do and mooning over a mate that wouldn’t reveal herself was just getting him annoyed again.

She had to grin, everyone in the art world thought that Warsaw C. was a man, thought that the paintings he created were some of the best out of the last four or five generations of new artists, she wondered however how they would feel if they knew that not only was he not a he but that she was a bio-chemist?

Grabbing his mail as he went to his car, Kristof flipped through it, dropping the advertisements and other junk mail into the garbage bin that was out for collection that day. Pausing at the heavy cream-tinged paper he turned it over and broke the old-fashioned wax seal. Pulling out the heavy-weight card with embossing and foiling he flipped it open and found himself staring at his annual invitation to the masquerade ball to benefit the Foundation of Juvenile Diabetes Research.

Tapping it slightly against his short nail he was tempted to toss it as he did every year and just write the check, but something stopped him. Staring at it he sighed and put it into his briefcase, he still had time to throw it away but he knew, for whatever reason stopped him originally, he’d end up going to the ball that year. Luckily it was black tie so all he’d have to do was procure a mask. Pausing halfway in and halfway out of the car, his mind snapped to the dream.

“Damn me,” he said sitting down hard. “I knew it was coming up, that’s why the masks,” he muttered shaking his head. Slamming the door he pulled out of his driveway and headed into work, his face set in a confused half-angry visage as he wondered just why he hadn’t changed the dream to see her face, why the hell had he left the mask on her face?

She was dressed, hair pulled back tightly and glasses once more on her nose when the doorbell rang. Frowning, she went to the intercom. “Hello, Dr. Warsaw, how can I help you?”

“Dr. Courtney Warsaw?” The man’s voice said smoothly.

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“Package for you, Ms. I can leave it downstairs if you want?”

“No, I will be there in a moment.” It was time for her to leave anyway so she had might as well get down there and get it before someone decided that they wanted whatever was in the mystery package. Grabbing her purse and laptop she headed downstairs, locking up behind her as she did so.

The courier was dressed in a nice suit, not a tux but he looked far too nicely dressed to be a courier and with thanks she took the large manila envelope and walked for the bus stop where she caught the bus for work. Taking her seat she looked over the envelope, and turning it, saw the wax seal and then grinned. She knew what this was, it was for the annual Juvenile Diabetes Foundation Masked Ball.

She caressed her hand over the seal and leaned back, she loved the balls, she went every year. Eyes suddenly flew wide open. “That’s why the masks,” she whispered softly and nodded, that was why she had been dreaming of a masked ball and a masked man actually dancing with her.

Climbing out of his car in front of the lab, Kristof dallied, no other word for it, for whatever reason he just didn’t want to go inside. Maybe because his Board was expecting him to tear apart a good researcher’s work and prove she had no basis for her hypothesis and that all her work was falsified. He knew that her Board were a bunch of backstabbing lying assholes that would sell their mothers for approval but he knew that not all, most, but not all the technicians were as ratfaced about such things.

Closing the door he leaned against the front bumper and eyed the other parking lot as it slowly began to fill, a car here, a car there and the people walking into the neighboring lab. Pushing his sunglasses up into his short hair, he dropped the briefcase to rest at his feet and just waited. He didn’t know for what or why but he had a sense that something was coming.

She got off at her usual stop and had tucked the invitation into her briefcase as she was walking toward the Aegis labs. She paused on the street, didn’t know why but she paused and looked around, almost as if sensing someone too close and then she saw him. She nearly swallowed her tongue because he was as beautiful in broad daylight and across two parking lots as he was in her dreams.

Shaking her head and putting a fire under her toes, she headed into the building, now was not the time for her to talk to him, it was far too close to her being so close to him, nearly able to touch him.

Shifting as he caught sight of a female, Kris frowned, a vague knowing tugging at his memory but when he pushed it slipped away. Then the wind kicked up and a soft, subtle, and totally feminine scent reached him on the air. There was no perfume, no strong soaps or anything else to obstruct her perfectly woman scent. Straightening up he breathed it in even as his eyes skimmed the lot. Finding no others there he narrowed his gaze on the tiny female. “Who are you?” he murmured softly. Her, it was her scent, and so very familiar and yet not, something was missing. Frowning he took a step forward and inhaled as the breeze pushed her scent at him again.

Walking into Aegis she placed her briefcase and purse on the security table and slipped off her coat. “Hello, Bertram, it’s going to storm tonight.” She simply knew it was going to be one of those stormy weekends, perfect for a masked ball. “I won’t be in Monday or Tuesday, I am taking personal days so you will have to do without my bright and shiny personage.”

Bertram, a tall massive black man snorted. His accent still heavily Cajun even though he had lived in New York for three years. “Ye be a good gel Doc eh else yer fate eill catch up te ya.”

“You are funny, I don’t have a fate or destiny.” There was a sad loneliness to her eyes and as she shook it off she smiled brightly and stepped through the metal detectors.

“Ah but ye de Lass, ye wait.” He winked at her and handed her her things, his eyes casting out over the foyer and through the glass walls and out into the parking lot as if seeing something she was missing. “Off wit ye,” he said gruffly as he waited on the next employee.

As she walked up to her office she flipped open her cell and made the call to a friend, an amazing friend actually who always had the best gowns for the masked ball. “Lucy, hey it’s Courtney. Yes, yes.” She grinned. Lucy already knew about the ball, of course, and had her gown ready.

She was walking up the stairs and tripped up them when Lucy said, “It’s red and beautiful, it will look amazing on you but you have to let me do your hair.” She grumbled, “None of the asses you work with know that you go to this thing, so this year I get to do your hair, not you.” With that Lucy hung up on Courtney and Courtney shook her head.

“How the hell did that happen?” Now she was seriously weirded out, Lucy had the dress for her that she had dreamed of in the same dream she had dreamed of Kristof Farkas.

* * * *

Pulling on the jacket of his tux, Kristof straightened it and shook his head. “I hate formal wear,” he grumbled as he picked at some lint on his sleeve. Moving into the bathroom he cleaned off everything and double checked himself before sliding on his long coat. Catching up his keys, wallet, and domino mask, he headed for the front door, snagging the invite at the last minute.

Forty minutes later he pulled up outside the event and got out, passing his keys to the valet with a warning to not put a scratch in it or he’d have his hide. Pulling on his mask he headed inside and passed his coat off as he handed over the invite. Moving in further he accepted a glass of champagne as he began to mill about the room. He nodded to some people here or there, folks he knew by scent alone. Turning as the music changed to a Viennese Waltz he caught a familiar scent in the air and stilled, going hunter ready in an instant. “Mine,” he whispered as the scent of his mate hit his nose.

Moving down the sweeping staircase her head held high and the mask covering all of her face except her eyes and lips, she smiled at those that stopped to stare at her. Her invitation had been handed over and now her entrance was more than she had intended, but with the dress she was in she completely understood why people were staring. It was beautiful, red silk with a corset bodice that laced in the back with golden silk. It molded to her body as if it had been created for her and her alone. The train trailed along behind her as the front swept over the floor. Nodding here and there she was surprised at how many men she worked with turned her way with interest in their eyes, too bad they would run far and wide if they knew it was her.

The flash of red caught his eye as he turned and there she was. Just as she’d been in the dream, holy mother of god she was beautiful. Moving slowly through the throng, he caught a second glass of champagne and, as she turned slightly he held it out. “I thought I should meet you before the hordes descended upon you to find out your name,” he said quietly as he breathed her in. There it was again, that hidden lightness under the stronger scent that threatened to overwhelm his senses.

She turned and eyes wide looked at him. She had in contacts tonight so that she could wear her mask but they were her clear contacts. “No one has ever asked me my name before” she whispered as she took the flute of champagne from him. “I have been coming to these for nine years and never once has anyone approached me, you are the first.” And he was, how strange.

Taking her free hand, he lifted it and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before flipping her hand over and kissing her inner wrist. “I’ll ask for more than your name if you’d let me,” he said with a smile. “But I would like to know the name of the most delightfully beautiful creature in the room.” Especially since he’d be claiming her soon enough. “After that I would be greatly honored if you’d agree to allow me to have at least one dance with you.”

She shook her head and smiled. “If I told you my name, you wouldn’t want to dance. Dance with me first?” Even the domino he wore over his face didn’t hide who he was, she knew who he was, she knew without a shadow of a doubt who he was and her heart was on her sleeve, so to speak, with him.

“If you wish,” he murmured as he took her glass and set both hers and his aside. Taking her hand gently in his he guided her to the second room where the band was playing and several guests were dancing. As they moved through the door the music changed and he could have groaned at the poetic justice of it all. The strong strains of the tango began to pulse through the room as he spun her around to face him and led her to the floor. “I hope you know this one because personally”—he licked his lips, his eyes moving over her body and face—“I love the tango, it’s so impassioned and bold.” 

She shivered and licked her ruby red lips. “I love the tango.” She snapped to attention in front of him, on her toes and hand in his. “Show me what you have, Kristof,” she slipped, calling him by his name when he hadn’t told her, but she pressed up and close to him. “Remind me how good it felt,” she breathed softly.

Growling softly he smiled at her slip and moved his hand lower on her spine, settling it right at the perfect curve that led to her buttocks. “Gladly, my sweet,” he whispered softly to her as he began to move. Keeping her tight to him, his body pressing into hers as he moved her around, guiding her through the steps. Pulling her hand he held closer to his face he kissed her fingers lightly, nipping at the soft skin one beat before he put her into a spin and then tugged her back fast, catching her as she slapped into his body. Holding her for a moment, he took her through the quick steps as a unit, his body rubbing against hers.

As he turned them in a 360 with her close to his body, she kicked her leg up and let it wrap around the back of his thighs, squeezing close and feeling the intense need there. She knew that if he knew who she was, he wouldn’t be there, he wouldn’t touch her at all.

She looked up at him nearing the end of the dance and licked her lips again, god help her she wanted to know how it felt to have him kiss her. Everyone and everything fell away, all there was, was that moment, just them.

As the last strains played, he tipped her back and breathed in her scent as he trailed his lips slowly up from her chest, over her neck to her cheek. With the big finale, he took a chance and, pulling her up a little, he kissed her, tasting her on his lips and moaning into her mouth. Gripping her tighter he barely remembered to not hurt her with his grip.

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, she held onto him and opened her mouth to him and the taste of him overtook her just as it had in her dream. This was reality, she knew that it was because the people weren’t simply off to the side, no they were there and they were watching them intently.