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"The mask is just for decoration, nothing else." He spotted several people he knew and members of his club and their wives. "Want to go and join them?" He indicated the group of people in one corner of the room.
"Why not?" The place was dazzling, not just the glittering chandeliers hanging from the ornately decorated ceiling, but there were the women, decked out in fall colors, red, burgundy, gold, russet, and green.
Some were already swirling around the dance floor and wait staff, looking stiff and professional in their basic black and white served endless supplies of champagne.
"I am usually here in a working capacity," she murmured as they wound their way through the crowd. He was stopped by several people who wanted to congratulate him on his marriage.
"Now you are not." He had his hand firmly on her arm, leaving no doubt to the reporters hanging around that he was committed. "You are here as my wife."
She slanted him a look. "You need to stop throwing that word around."
"I am going to enjoy doing so, several times as the evening progresses." He shot a grin at her. "Ah, here we are," he introduced her to Leesa, Kelly, Monique, and Amani, and she found herself enveloped by women she had only previously been acquainted with before.
"Go away darling while we get to know your new bride better," Kelly, wearing a stunning red and gold dress told him with a smile.
"We have lots to talk about," Leesa joined in. Her green dress was some sort of sheath that left arms and long legs bare.
"I knew the dress was definitely your style," Monique told her admiring the way it clung to her curves. She was wearing a classy red and brown silk gown that draped around her like a cloak.
"Thanks. I told Jaylen that your designer somehow forgot to add the rest of the material." She snagged a glass of champagne from the passing waiter and took a sip.
"I think Liam said the same thing about the dress I am wearing." Amani swept a hand over her own russet gown that stopped short of being indecent. "I saw it when I went to hit up Monique for something to wear and could not resist."
"I also told him that women are forced to wear clothes that objectify them and show off skin as if we are advertising the ware."
That brought laughter to the group and had people turning to stare at them.
"But we have what to show off," Kelly murmured. "And you are absolutely right darling. I should know, I was strutting the stage with barely enough covering when I was a model."
She looked over to where Jaylen was standing with a group of men. "Your husband does the same and trusts me when I say that I do love looking at his magnificent body." She gave Anika a curious look. "How on earth did you manage to hide the fact that you were seeing each other?"
She and Jaylen had come up with an answer to that question, they knew was going to be thrown at them. She liked these women and knew for a fact that they were making strides in the world.
They used their position of power to make a difference and she respected that. But she could not or would never involve them in her personal business. Her complicated personal business.
“She wanted secrecy, I wanted to shout it to the world.” She had been so absorbed in her thoughts, that she had not noticed that he had come up behind her. Sliding his arms around her waist, he brought her up against him.
“She has this thing about her privacy and she resisted for as long as she was able.” He kissed the tip of her left ear. “I managed to drag her into that chapel and begged her to make it official. I guess she loved me enough to say yes.”
“I had to give in, he was becoming a downright pest and making a nuisance of himself, like now," she said airily.” She tilted her head to look at him. “You could not stay away another minute, could you?”
“I want to dance with my new bride. Do you have a problem with that?” He could feel the desire pumping through his body as she stared at him.
“No. It so happens that I want to dance as well.” She looked at the women who were watching them with avid interest. “Would you excuse us?”
“Of course, go ahead,” Leesa told her with a grin. “And circle back. We really have to chat.”
He led her onto the dance floor and she was sure it was not her imagination—people were making a path for them.
“I never asked if you can dance.” His hands came around her small waist.
“You are about to find out and this is not really dancing.” Wounding her hands around his neck, she lifted her head to look at him.
“We are just doing some bump and grind.”
He chuckled, absolutely enchanted by her. “I think it is called a waltz in polite society.” She was wearing a half-lace mask the color of copper, which gave her a mysterious look.
“And I keep forgetting that’s where we are.” She looked over his shoulder to see a group of women giving him longing looks. “Fans or lovers?”
