And that scared the living hell out of him.
30
THE MASKS
Panting, Brigit rolled offhim. Beads of sweat glistened between her breasts. It was near dawn and they could not stop. She’d never had so much sex in her life and she couldn’t satiate her need when she was with him. More wasn’t enough. And each time she felt like she was selling out to the enemy, but the switch to stop had jammed. So she kept going with yes, yes, and yes again. If pheromones were real, she’d been marked—or marred—by this man, for all eternity.
“Colton, we havegotto stop.”
He wouldn’t wipe that damn grin off his sex-flushed face. “I said that forty-five minutes ago and you climbed on me.”
“Sure, blame me, but thatthingkeeps finding its way inside my body.” She pointed to his penis.
He rolled toward her. “You’ve cast some kind of spell on me.”
With a triumphant smile, she said, “I’m glad to hear my magic charms have worked on you.” Then her jubilant expression fell away. “I should sneak down to my room before someone sees me.”
Holding her gaze for several seconds, he kissed her. “Don’t leave. I’m making us breakfast.”
“Stop bossing me around.”
“I didn’t hear you complain once in the past seven hours.” He got out of bed, flashed her a smile and vanished into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he emerged in his black robe. “You’re welcome to take a shower. Fresh towels in the linen closet.” He closed his bedroom door behind him.
Hot, jetting water pounded Brigit awake. She refused to ruin her sex high by chastising herself for sleeping with him again.Best sex ever. Just don’t get used to it.After drying off, she checked the bathroom closet for a spare robe. Not finding one, she emerged naked. Colton hadn’t returned, so she padded across the sandstone floor in search of one from his closet.
Of all the rooms in Colton’s home, his bedroom was Brigit’s favorite. Besides his elegant taste and unlimited funds, the stately armoire, bureau and night tables were perfectly placed in the suite. But the room’s focal point, the king sleigh bed with its dark gold comforter, luxurious bed linens and fluffy pillows, was the right balance of posh and inviting. The floor-to-ceiling umber curtains created a cave-like atmosphere made even cozier with the floor lamp softly illuminating the comfy-looking chaise tucked in the corner. Was the soothing ambiance the reason why she felt so safe and protected in there?
From the elaborate box ceiling with its rich merlot border and sparkling chandelier, to the marbled gas fireplace, the bedroom lacked nothing, except a clue as to what he did in there. There was no television, no stacks of unread books, not even a phone or a photo. Did he just sleep? And was she really his first guest?Why me?
She opened his walk-in closet, flipped on the light and startled. Amidst the rows of neatly lined clothing, eight masquerade masks hung on the far wall. Though unsettled she stepped closer to examine them. The first hook had no mask. Perhaps that was for the one he’d used last night. Two ornate eye masks, one silver and one gold, dangled from their black ribbons. The fourth mask was a black devil.
Hanging on the row beneath were five full facial masks. These were downright ominous. Elaborate in design with jutting chins or noses. The last mask was macabre. Outlined in gold scroll with a long white nose, gold spectacles, black eyes, and a large black hat. A shiver flew down her spine. Had she discovered Colton’s dark side?
“What are you doing in here?”
She jumped from the harshness in his voice. Colton’s lips were drawn into thin lines and the coldness in his eyes made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. “I need a robe.” Feeling vulnerable, she crossed her arms over her bare breasts. “I…I should go.”
“Why don’t you wear this?” he said pulling a white dress shirt off its hanger. As he helped shrug the shirt over her shoulders, his lips curved, the smile touching his eyes. “You look sexy.”
To avoid eye contact, she got busy buttoning the shirt. When she finished, he took her hand. “Time to eat.”
As he led her from the closet, she threw a furtive glance over her shoulder at the masks.That last one is terrifying.
He brought her into his sitting room where the early morning light burst in with unfiltered exuberance. The furnishings matched those in his bedroom, though this splendid space boasted the sunshine and that delightful wall of bookshelves filled to the brim.
Covered dishes, a carafe, a small pitcher of orange juice, and two place settings filled the rolling cart. Famished, Brigit lifted lids. Scrambled eggs with chives, bacon strips, English muffins with butter and jelly on the side.
“Can I serve you?” He lifted one of the plates.
“Please.” She poured their juice and sat on the sofa.
He filled her plate, handed it to her, then filled his own.
“I hope you didn’t wake Elliott.” She buttered the muffins.
He sat next to her. “I did this.”
