Masked Attraction (3 page)

He flipped her, faster than thought, too fast to counter if she’d even wanted. He trapped her under him with his weight. Her wolf could have shoved him off, but he thumbed down one cup of her bodice, exposing her nipple—and then her wolf didn’t want to be anywhere but under him.

Zoe panted in anticipation as his eyes flared in his mask, his gaze greedy on her breast. He growled again, dark and possessive, shooting hot desire into her. His head lowered, blocking her view, but she felt the heat of his breath roll over her skin and moaned her encouragement.

“My Hero. I want you to…” She arched her breast toward him.

He flicked a glance up at her, his blue eyes shot with starfire. Gaze locked on hers, his lips touched her skin.
Relief…
But instead of pulling her nipple into his mouth, he pressed tiny kisses to her breast, gentle little butterflies.

Her frustration ripped from her throat in a growl. She didn’t want gentle, not from him. Threading fingers in his bright hair, she urged him to do more, harder.

He resisted, kissing and nibbling ever so lightly.

More.
Her fingers tightened in his hair until she was nearly ripping strands.

And he… he only traced a sweet little circle around the puckered tip with his tongue.

Her nipple rose stiff and throbbing with need, her body bowed with aching desire. “
Please.
” She tugged hard on his head, trying to tell him with her hands what she longed to scream.

Lick me. Suckle me.
Bite
me.

“Demanding, aren’t we?” He chuckled—and sucked her into his hot mouth.

“
Yes,
” she hissed. “More.” He nipped. His sharp teeth sent pangs of longing straight to her sex, tightening her stomach, curling her up off the couch. When he circled her back with an arm, she thought he was helping her sit—but his fingers seized the short zipper on her dress and yanked it open, peeling the bodice completely down.

The dress had a built-in bra. She was naked beneath. Both breasts sprang free, her nipples furled in anticipation.

Clack.
The hands-free earpiece tumbled out and hit the floor.

There was no corresponding metallic ding of key.

He cupped her naked breasts in his palms, gazing reverently at her. “You’re so beautiful. I imagined this for so long…”

“My key.” Barely listening, she half-sat in the cage of his body, frantically combing the floor with her gaze. “Where’s the key?”

“Key?” His lids rose, but it was obvious from the hot glaze to his eyes that he hadn’t fully heard her. “What key?”

“To the case.” She dug a hand into her hair, wincing as her claws grooved her scalp like a vinyl record. “I tucked it in my bodice earlier. It must have fallen out when I…when we…or maybe before we…” She groaned. “It doesn’t matter when. I need to find that key. It’s to the parchment display case. The prize. Daniel, please.”

He sucked air.

In her agitation, that shocked sound was the first she realized she’d said his name. Reluctantly, she met his gaze.

The lustfulness had cleared. The masked, blue gaze meeting hers now was shrewd and intelligent, and shot with ice instead of fire.

He released her breasts. “How did you know it was me? How long?”

“I’m sorry.” Her face felt hot and prickly, as if she was perspiring. “I knew it was you because…well.” How did she say she’d never forgotten his scent without sounding like a perv? “I knew almost right away, because…” She beat her brain for a human-sounding reason, took the first idea that hit her. “Your mask. It reminded me of those dorky glasses you used to wear.”

She knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left her mouth.

He leaped to his feet, his color high. “I’m sorry. I knew it was you, too, but that’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to take advantage of your ignorance, but it was so nice, you treating me as if I were…well, as if I were one of the popular boys you used to date.” He turned away.

He’s leaving me.
It hurt someplace deep, a hidden, soft place she hadn’t even known existed.

“Daniel, don’t go.” She stopped him the only way she knew how. “Please? I need help. I need
your
help.”

Chapter Three

Dork
.

Daniel stood with his back to Zoe, feeling dumber than a bag of particularly stupid hammers. The hot flush of shame was all too familiar from high school. He was surprised it felt just as bad twenty years later.

But it was his own fault.

He’d come here to sweep the Queen of Hearts off her feet and had instead behaved like an adolescent boy with his first grope. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Zoe admitting she had the key to the prize shouted she was probably the Queen of Hearts herself. Far from romantic, his lustful groping had blown his chances of winning the parchment all to hell.

But even that enormous bungle, jumping the Queen of Hearts like a low hurdle, paled into insignificance next to the fact this was
Zoe.
Keeping his libido in check around her in high school had been nigh onto impossible—he’d wanted her so bad it had almost outranked breathing—but he’d done it because she deserved the very best from him. He’d always,
always
put his lust second to whatever happiness he could help her to have.

He cared about her so much it hurt.

Dork.

So, of all the words that dropped from Zoe’s gorgeous red lips, that one hit him the hardest. Pain skewered him, bend-him-over, cut-him-off-at-the-knees pain, expelled-breath-with-none-to-replace-it pain.

He’d long ago gotten over caring what names other people called him. Names didn’t matter.

But this was Zoe, and he was vulnerable.

He didn’t show it—a lifetime of automatically masking his emotions protected him—but behind his impassive face, he wanted to run away.

This
was why he hadn’t tried to find her in all these years. Why, even after he’d honed his body to be as strong as his mind, he’d stayed away.

This intense pain, from so small a slight, was why.

Then she said, “Daniel.” And “I need your help.” Her tight vocal cords told him this was important to her happiness.

As it always had, that stopped him.

He turned back. Even as a teenager, she’d never been a drama queen. The faint lines marring her perfect forehead were enough to confirm she was desperately worried.

His pain didn’t matter. It never had.

She needed that key. Even if the parchment wasn’t the prize he sought, he’d have done this for her.

“All right. Show me where you had it last.”

Relief flooded Zoe’s veins like cool water. Daniel wouldn’t leave her.

She’d hurt him just now. Without meaning to, but he had a right to walk out. They had no official tie, not beyond having been friends years ago, and even that had been tragically one-sided.

He had every right to turn around and walk out of her life forever.

Instead, he was letting her take advantage of his kindness. Again.

A pang of conscience made her wish he was selfish like other boys. That he’d help her find the key, yes, but for himself, because he wanted the prize.

But this was
Daniel
. He’d never been nice-with-expectations, only nice. He helped because he was an upstanding, reliable guy, loyal and caring no matter how she’d treated him.

Which made him sound more like a
dog
than a sexy man. Shame heated the tips of her ears. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her thoughts, only her actions.

Speaking of action. If she was going to show him where she’d had the key, she’d better get dressed. Zoe tugged up her bodice and stood—and without thinking, presented her back for him to handle the zipper. Like he was her brother, or a lady’s maid.

When she realized what she’d done, her whole face flamed.

He zipped without comment.

She sighed mentally. Without the key, she couldn’t get rid of the parchment, and it was vital to get rid of it for her mother’s sake. For her own sake, she wanted to give it away, to use it as a lever to get one last taste of romance.

Either way, she needed help; he’d offered to help. Regret, shame, and recriminations could come later. “Thanks. Let me show you where I’ve been, from the beginning.”

She led him back to the ballroom, to the center table with the glass case.

The display was still locked, the parchment inside. Relief weakened her knees. She braced herself against the table and turned to him.

Daniel stood over the case, staring at it with the intense concentration she remembered from high school. Scowling, he touched a finger to his chest, then the display.

A spark snapped, startling her and making him jerk.

“Damn static electricity,” he said. “You’re right to be worried.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, only reached toward the case with both hands. She expected more snaps of static, but nothing happened as he ran his palms over the glass, scrutinizing the parchment inside with eyes like blue lasers.

A delicious tang wafted from him, pulling her nearer. Her nostrils flared, and she breathed deep, drawing the scent into her lungs.

She knew that smell. Testosterone.

It signaled a hunter. Male aggression. Sexy as hell, but it meant she shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss his actions as selfless.

He was competing for the prize. Yet another guy romancing her only for his own ends.

Mentally, she smacked herself. Why else would he be here, at her ball? Of course he was competing for the prize. More, she’d
wanted
him to want the parchment for himself only a few moments ago. But this was Daniel, and it still hurt.

Which was confusing. She’d never been emotionally mercurial, not even as a teen. So instead of asking him what he was looking for, she had to take a moment to get her feelings corralled.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” he said, moving away from the case with, quick, decisive steps, and the moment was lost. He turned to her. “When and where did you first get the key?”

“Here, right after the doors opened. My planner was supposed to secure the case, but she’d left the key in the lock by mistake. I locked up and took the key, but as I said, the doors were open, and I didn’t have time to put the key anywhere safe.”

“So what did you do?”

“I dropped it in here.” She pointed to her cleavage.

His gaze followed her finger, so fast his eyes nearly snapped off.

Her spirits buoyed, until she realized why.

Bitchslap me with a full moon.
Helpful and loyal,
bad
qualities? Lecherous leering,
good
? What was wrong with her?

Daniel glanced at her with a quirked brow, as if echoing
What’s wrong?

Zoe’s face flamed, and she shook her head. Nothing was wrong except she was apparently the same shallow idiot she’d been in high school.
Please don’t ask.

Answering her unspoken plea as he always had, he simply went on. “All right. What happened then?”

“Well…I was on the phone with my cousin while I double-checked everything was in place for the arriving guests…”

Too late, she realized babbling about the key and
her
event planner would clue in a smart guy that she was the party’s hostess, the Queen of Hearts, and Daniel was
very
smart.

She glanced at him, but his face didn’t change, remained intently listening. Nothing to do but go on and hope their kiss and her cleavage had sidetracked enough of his brain cells. She probably had a better chance of that than she’d had in high school, since his smell—and his physique, mmm-hmm—said he had a tankload more of sidetrackable testosterone.

Testing the theory, she said, “I ended the call and slid the hands-free in there, too.” She pointed again.

Like iron filings to a magnet, his gaze shot down, following her finger. His blue irises dialed wide, revealing pools of desire.

Her belly splashed with delight.
Because I sidetracked him, not because I like him looking.
Right.
Even I don’t believe me.
She cleared her throat.

His gaze returned to hers, apology twinkling in his eyes. He saw her as a person, too, not simply a set of breasts.

Her blood fizzed, but she ruthlessly suppressed it. The key was what was important.

“It must’ve fallen out, but I don’t honestly remember hearing it. I was nervous and excited.”

“You weren’t the excitable sort in high school.”

He remembered that? A place deep inside warmed.

“Let’s walk it.” He pursed his fine lips. “More may come back to you.”

That was Daniel, always thinking. It was as sexy now as it had been in high school.

“Or we might find the key on the floor,” she offered.

“That, too. So, you have a party planner, but you went around the room, checking everything was in place?”

So he
had
heard. That was also Daniel, highly observant.

“Yes. I wanted to see for myself.”

He nodded. “Practical and responsible.”

“You always did see the best in people. Dorine would called it backseat driving.”

“Sounds like a planner. The pot seeing the mote in the kettle’s eye.”

She smiled. “And you always mixed your sayings, too.”

“Yeah. I was an idiot.”

“I’d have said cute.”

He didn’t reply, but his gaze changed, intensified.

Pulse accelerating, she leaned forward, into that strong male regard, his tangy scent wrapping around her. She suddenly wanted to rip off both their masks and drag him back into the prep room and rip off all the rest of his clothes…

“
Oof.
” The voice was female.

Daniel’s eyes widened in his mask, and he lurched a step sideways as a woman stumbled against him. He automatically reached out to steady her.

“Oh,
thank
you.” She was an angel-faced, hourglass of a female whose dress dripped so much money and class it made Zoe feel like she wore a leopard-print lampshade with cheap fringe.

Zoe’s wolf growled, not liking Daniel’s hands on anyone but her. She shushed it. He was just being nice.

“M-miss! I’m so sorry.” A young man in wait staff uniform stood frozen, a fallen tray and the chagrin on his face telling the story of what had happened. “I didn’t see you.” He snatched up his tray and began picking up tidbits of food.

“No harm done.” Miss Money Bags might have been talking to the young man, but she was beaming at Daniel. “None at all. Thanks to this hero.” Her outrageously long lashes batted coyly.

“My pleasure,” Daniel said.

Zoe’s wolf growled louder. She told it again that Daniel’s response was only friendly. No reason to get jealous—

“Shall we find somewhere nice and quiet?” The woman put a hand on his arm.

Mine
. Heat
fooshed
through Zoe, propelling her, rocket-like, between them. Fists on hips, she glared down at her.

The rich beeyatch
dared
to glare back. Like Daniel was fair game.

Instinct grabbed Zoe by the throat. She raised her upper lip in a grin that was less smile, more wolf. She may even have let her canines lengthen.

Miss Classypants paled and edged away. When Zoe growled softly, she scurried off.

Scowling, Zoe turned back to find Daniel frowning at her.

Crap on a claw. Humans didn’t know about shifters, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t sense when things were off. And Daniel, as she’d already remembered, was quicker than most.

Immediate distraction was in order.

“Where were we? Oh, yes, checking out the ballroom. A sashed-up jerk caused a ruckus over here.” She ran off to the hors d’oeuvre table. After a moment, he followed, and she continued. “He’d gotten handsy with a guest. I tossed his ass out. Everything else was good, so I decided it was time to socialize. I then met a man in a ripped leather mask calling himself Zeus—also a handsy sort.” She touched her throat, remembering.

Daniel frowned at her raised hand. “Did he bother you?” That snarl promised retribution.

“No.” She dropped her hand, fast. “Of course not. Then you came in. You know what happened from there.”

His gaze rose and his color with it, showing he did indeed remember.

“Maybe I didn’t drop the key. Maybe it was an accident. The crowd jostled me before you and I…you know.”
Had the hottest damned kiss of my life.
“The key could have gotten bumped out by someone knocking into me.”

Daniel shook his head. “You’d have heard it. What isn’t hardwood dance floor is thin carpet over concrete, and your hearing is extraordinary.”

Zoe’s breath froze. Did he know she was a wolf? “What are you implying?”

“Not implying. Saying.”

The only thing that stopped her heart from seizing was the fact he headed toward the parchment case.