Those girls showed no qualms about getting down and dirty with any rich stranger who took their fancy.
“Oh, if it isn’t Blake Sinclair,” I heard over my shoulder as a waft of Chanel No. 5 drifted my way.
I turned and recognized a woman from the last ball, who’d taken me into the Dark Room for a little dirty playtime. Her name had slipped my memory. Leaning in, she whispered, “I’m still waiting for you to return the favor.”
“I’m with someone.” My cool response hopefully said it all.
Her mouth turned down, and her eyes cooled as she floated off.
James smirked. “Ghosts of past dalliances all over the place.”
“Why are we here again?” I asked.
“Because it’s tradition. And let’s face it—just seeing our girls dressed up makes it worthwhile.” He lifted his glass. “And they always serve top champagne. And let’s not forget the Dark Room.”
The Dark Room was a secret chamber for hedonists, a leftover tradition from the days of rakes. The more conservative guests had no idea of its existence. Only those keen on debauchery knew of its location, which was somewhere in the bowels of that castle.
“Not tonight. I’m not parading my girl in that den of wolves.”
James laughed. “What, not even a threesome?” He lifted a brow.
“I’m not as kinky as you.”
“Says Mr. Voyeur.”
“I haven’t done that for a while.”
“Penelope’s really gotten to you,” said James.
“Does Lilly know of your penchant for threesomes?”
He nodded sheepishly. “She doesn’t mind the idea of being tongued by a girl. She just doesn’t want me to fuck the other girl. I can live with that. Lilly’s enough for me.”
“So why do you need to watch her with another girl?”
“There’s something tantalizingly erotic watching two girls at it.” James’s brow arched.
That came as no surprise. The guy was more sordid than I could ever be. “I’m a vanilla man myself.”
“To each his own. And as long as everyone’s having fun. There’s Emma over there. She’s rather partial to bit of cunt sucking.” James nodded subtly toward a woman dressed in a man’s suit.
“You’re licentious and wanton,” I said, thinking of the previous ball. when I’d entered the Dark Room and had two girls perform lewd acts on my cock.
As that murky little image played out in my mind, Penelope glided toward me, and my heart warmed. The pull she had on me worried me. I wondered if I shouldn’t seek another appointment with the therapist to discuss my addiction to Penelope. The first appointment had gone poorly, unsurprisingly. I’d ended up leaving with a script for sleeping pills, after my reluctance to apprise the therapist of my soap-operatic past.
I held out my hand to Penelope. “Let’s go into the ballroom.”
“Yes. Lets.” She smiled, brimming with excitement.
The music suited the florid surroundings, as the waltzing guests swirled around. Most of the younger women wore fitted gowns revealing as much flesh as possible.
“I think I’m wearing the most fabric,” said Penelope.
Accentuated by the lace mask, her eyes had a teasing smile. “Then that explains my attraction to you, Blake, because you’re the very personification of mystery.”
“Let’s keep it that way. You might tire of me otherwise.”
She studied me closely. “You don’t like the person you’re hiding?”
I paused to think. “That’s a big question and probably best suited to midnight after a few Scotches.”
She took my hand. “One day, you’ll tell my about your family, I hope.”
“It’s not that interesting.”
“I disagree. It’s sounds fascinating. I prefer that to someone who’s had a boring life, when every Sunday’s scones and jam.”
“I’m rather partial to scones and jam.” I grinned.
Penelope smiled and, to my relief, abstained from further questions.
“Come. Let’s dance.”
“Waltz?” Her pretty lips twisted.
“Just let me lead. I’m dying to feel you against me.”
32
* * *
PENELOPE
BEING SWIRLED AROUND felt like a dream. I’d never heard classical music played live. Lifted by the ethereal music, I glided along as though my feet floated in the air.
Blake held onto me steadily. When I managed to leave his magnetic blue eyes, I observed those around us. The older guests painted dramatic figures in white masks, capes, and three-cornered hats, in what looked like a macabre version of Disneyland.
The younger women, whose eyes were on Blake for most of the time, wore their red-carpet glamor effortlessly as they sashayed about, well- practiced at working the room.
Dressed in a black tuxedo that looked as though it had been sewn onto him, Blake looked like that sophisticated class of man one saw in