Barely Mistaken

Adam usually wore a trendy cologne she found somewhat cloying, but tonight he’d abandoned it. His clean, masculine scent, mingled with the sharp, cold, autumn air, aroused her.

Mercurial, quicksilver heat spread through her. Alarmed her. The staid, practical librarian demanded retreat. She stepped back and the darkness engulfed her. The distance didn’t diffuse the awareness that shimmered and danced between them.

Adam followed her into the shadows, the broad expanse of his shoulders silhouetted against the moon. “You’re beautiful. You take my breath away, Lady Olivia.”

Oh my. She checked the urge to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else and decided to try something new—gracious acceptance. “Thank you.”

“We should go inside. It’s cold out here.”

His low-timbered voice shivered against her skin. His words said one thing, his body language said something else as he dipped his head toward her.

“Yes. We should…” Instead, she stepped closer, drawn to him regardless of her will.

“…go inside.” Even as he finished her sentence, he cupped her shoulders and drew her forward.

She braced her hands against the smooth texture of his shirt, the spring of male hair beneath tantalizing. Evocative. Unnerving. “Tell me why again,” she murmured.

“It’s cold.”

Every inch of her body responded to him. The black velvet mask pressed sensually against her face while the night air’s cool fingers brushed against her heated skin. “Is it?”

She’d accepted Adam’s kisses before. Now, for the first time, she craved his kiss.

“Olivia?”

Her insides melted at the rich roll of her name on his lips—an auditory aphrodisiac. The night and her vision—or lack of—blurred reality, yet intensified her other senses. The steady rhythm of his breathing whispered a melody to the background accompaniment of the party’s muted sounds. His scent evoked an awareness deep within her.

Her breath mingled with his. As inevitable as the rise of the moon or the rustle of the wind through the dry leaves, her lips welcomed his.

And her world turned upside down.

Passion, long dormant and unacknowledged, awakened with an almost frightening intensity. Had she ever felt this way before? A ghost of a memory danced in her head, but wrapped in the feel and taste of him, Olivia gave it no credence.

Was it the full moon? Maybe the mask? Or simply because it felt so undeniably good? She didn’t stop to delve into motives. Instead, uncharacteristically, she abandoned herself to the situation and the sensations flooding her. She leaned into him and deepened their kiss.

Thus far in their relationship, Adam hadn’t been very physical. On the odd occasion when he was, his touch verged on platonic. Although he’d hesitated for the briefest moment, there was nothing platonic in the way he slanted his mouth over hers.

Olivia grasped his shoulders more firmly, as much to support herself as to enjoy the play of hard muscles beneath her hands. She silently apologized to Adam for previously thinking him a bit on the soft side. He was deliciously muscular and firm.

And his kissing had come a long way since the last time. They both came up for air. Olivia slumped against the brick wall for support. Adam braced himself against the same wall, his hands on either side of her. How was she supposed to catch her breath and recover from that kiss with his breath warming her face, his body mere inches from hers?

A few feet away, a window scraped open. Laughter and music spilled onto the porch, shattering their cocoon of intimacy. “It’s hot in here,” a woman’s complaint drifted out.

Olivia corrected her posture and Adam straightened, dropping his arms to his sides.

“We should go inside. It sounds as if it’s much warmer in there,” Olivia regained her voice along with her coherence.

Together they moved toward the door. Adam’s fingers found the small of her back and settled there. Shivers chased along her spine.

“It can’t be any hotter than it is now.” Adam’s muttered comment absolutely wrecked her small measure of composure as they joined the party.

LUKE NAVIGATED through the crush of people hovering about the door without stopping to talk. Kissing Olivia had damn near rendered him incapable of speech. He was still reeling from the impact of that kiss. Holding her in his arms, tasting her mouth, breathing in her scent, had felt like a homecoming. Thirteen long years and he realized the way he’d felt during that first kiss hadn’t been a fluke. He barely refrained from grinning like an idiot. If Adam had ever experienced even a sampling of Olivia’s brimming sensuality and passion, he’d have never referred to her as an ice princess.

He mentally compared the country club to Cecil’s Bar and Grill. As a matter of course, Luke didn’t frequent the country club. This was foreign territory. No dartboards. No pool tables. No neon lights advertising beer. No babes in leather bustiers.

Just as he’d anticipated, the lighting in the ballroom consisted of candles on small, white-clothed tables scattered around the dance floor perimeter. A cash bar in one corner did a steady business. He headed the other way. The less contact he had with people, the less likely he was to blow his disguise. Whoever was supposed to make contact with Adam, would surely seek him out. The safest way to avoid conversation was to hit the dance floor, Luke reasoned as he steered Olivia in that direction. And quite frankly, the prospect of holding her close didn’t pose a hardship.

The microphone hummed as the song ended and the band’s singer stepped up. “We’re going to slow it down before we take a break.”

The music began and Olivia turned into his arms with a quiet smile that slammed his heart against his ribs. Unfortunately, her smile was intended for his brother.

“I know you don’t like to dance, but I’m glad we’re out here,” she murmured as he clasped her hand, small and delicate, against his chest. She cupped his shoulder with her other hand. He didn’t dance much and certainly not with women like Olivia. She felt amazingly right in his embrace.

He was far happier to know Adam had never held her like this than he should’ve been.

“You inspire me.” He pulled her a fraction closer, achingly aware of her soft curves beneath the stiff starch of her dress. She radiated classy elegance. She’d been too good for him years ago when he’d stolen a kiss. She was still out of his league.

Behind the black velvet mask trimmed in feathers, her gray eyes studied him intently, almost squinting. Did she recognize he wasn’t Adam? No. He wanted to continue to hold her in his arms and sway to the sultry song. “What is it?”

Tugging her hand free of his, she reached up and rubbed the pad of her thumb against the edge of his upper lip. “I branded you with my lipstick.”

To hell with the lipstick, her touch branded him. Her hands drifted farther up, resting between his shoulders and his neck, touching his bare flesh. He’d seen fine-looking women naked and not been nearly as turned on as he was now.

Luke traced his finger along the satin skin near her lips.

“Am I smeared?” Her voice resonated low and husky, her breath warm and moist against his finger.

She wasn’t, but it offered a good excuse to touch her mouth. He lingered, tempted by the fullness of her lips and the memory of their recent kiss. “No, they’re perfect.”

Behind her mask, her gray eyes flirted, as she tilted her head coquettishly. “My Lord Pirate, your flattery goes to my head.” Her fingers cupped the nape of his neck. His belly clenched in response.

“And your nearness goes to mine, Lady Olivia.” Both of his heads.

With a sigh, she melted against him. This was the woman his brother referred to as the “ice princess”? Once again, he was fiercely glad Adam seemed oblivious to the passion that simmered just below her surface, that lit the seductive light in her eyes.

Silently swaying to the music, Luke absorbed Olivia. Her sensual mouth so at odds with the angular lines of her face. The graceful length of her neck that begged to be nibbled. The alabaster mounds of her breasts teasing at her neckline. The curve of her waist beneath his hand. The errant brush of her nipples against his chest. Her subtle fragrance wove about him, tantalizing and exotic. She was a hidden treasure and he knew just the pirate to explore her.

A giant marshmallow dancing with a peanut M&M’s bumped into him, jostling Olivia enough to bring her head up off his shoulder.

“Sorry, Adam. Olivia,” the marshmallow stammered an apology.

Luke managed not to glare at Mr. Sta-Puf as he steered in the opposite direction. For a few, brief minutes he’d forgotten Olivia was only in his arms on sufferance.

“I forgot to tell you earlier, Jeff was looking for you.” The feathers trimming her mask tickled against his chin. Fine strands of her hair brushed his cheek like dark silk.

“Good old Jeff.” Who the hell was Jeff? Obviously someone he should know, so he could hardly ask Olivia to point him out. Was he Adam’s contact at the party?

The song ended. Couples drifted off the crowded floor as the band dispersed for a break. He twined his fingers through Olivia’s, reluctant to release her.