Queen In Play (The Manhattan Tales Book 2) (23 page)

I went into the guest bedroom and tried the dress on, but called Elyse in to help me zip up the back.  I was hesitant as I viewed myself in the reflection.  My hips looked so round and the neckline dipped a little too low for my tastes. I sucked on my lower lip as I debated silently.

“Oh wow.”  Elyse breathed.  “Gorgeous.”

“I’m my own worst critic.”

“Aren’t we all?”  Elyse smiled.  “There is only one problem I see with this dress.”

“What is that?”  I blurted the question, thinking about my oh, so round hips.

“Mason might not make it through the night if he sees you in this.  He won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”  Elyse waggled her eyebrows at me in a suggestive manner.

I giggled softly as she helped me unzip the dress.

“Let’s pick out the accessories to go with this, and then I have to get to work.”  Elyse smiled. 

Elyse has always been selflessly supportive. She really is the best friend a girl could ask for…

25. Jillian Pryor

Elyse was correct.  Mason could not keep his hands off me on the night of the Benefit.  He took one look at me as I stepped into the sitting room and I saw the hunger and lust blaze in his eyes.  The plum silk hugged my curves and draped in a soft ripple down to the floor.  The neckline dipped low, but was not unsophisticated.  Amy helped me choose a pair of sparkling diamond chandelier earrings and strappy heels to compliment the gown.  My hair was tousled into curls that draped over one shoulder. 

His eyes seared over my form, and his hands gripped my round hips firmly, pulling me into his hard body.  I felt the hard raging erection in his black tuxedo pants.  It pressed into my stomach and my breathing hitched.

“The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can feel that hot, tight little cunt wrapped around my cock.”  His whisper was sensuous in my ear.

Oh, my.  I love his filthy words.

“I’m going to possess you tonight.  You’ll feel my cock plunge so deep inside that sweet, tight little pussy, leaving my mark on you forever.”

Rich, dark promises
.  Liquid heat was already pooling in the lace between my thighs.  A slow, delicious ache was forming down there.

He adjusted his pants to hide the raging need.  I’d never seen him in a tux before, and that dull aching need for him was rapidly becoming a throb. 

“I need a drink to dull the need,” Mason whispered into my ear.  “What will you have?”

I bit my lower lip, overstimulated by the decor and the guests in attendance.  The event was being held in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  I felt both intimidated and in awe by all of the characters in attendance, and the lush decor.

“You know what I like,” I smiled.

“Oh, I know exactly what you like.” His lips quirked upwards into a predatory grin.  Then, he kissed my hand and left me at our assigned table while he went to the bar. I watched him walk away, checking his phone while he approached the bar.

I looked around at the posh surroundings.  Women in exquisite gowns sipped champagne.  The men were all dressed in tuxedos.  I felt out of place.  I’d like to say that nobody was paying attention to me, but that’s not true.  The women surveyed me up and down, and their eyes always landed on the ring on my finger.  Some of them arched a perfectly manicured brow as they looked me up and down, then they’d turn and whisper to one another.

There’s Mason Woodward’s new flavor
, I could almost hear them say.  I sucked in a deep breath and looked around uncomfortably, attempting to hold my head high.  I could play their game. 

I’m not his flavor.  I’m his Queen.

“Jillian Pryor?” The voice was familiar, although I knew I hadn’t heard it in a while.  It was surprised and quizzical.

A severely uncomfortable sensation spread over me upon hearing that voice.  I looked up to see a beautiful woman, average in height staring down at me with sharp eyes.  Her smile was feigned, and painted on with expensive red gloss.  Her dark hair was pinned in a tight twist at the back of her head.  The diamonds that glittered around her tanned neck were bulky and gaudy. 

She stood with with two other women, who appeared to be in their early forties.  Each of them were programmed to fake their smiles.  Seeing these women reminded me of my days in Catholic High School, when I briefly tried to impress Nicole Balinski’s flock of sheep.

The uneasy discomfort continued to make my heart thrum in my chest.  I felt completely awkward as I sat alone at that round table. I wished Elyse was here. She would have dished out some commentary that would have made these elitist women cringe with shock.

“Mrs. Sloane, what an unexpected surprise,” I looked up and greeted with the same fake plastic smile.

“I can say the same thing,” She continued the facade and glanced between her two female friends.  She was pretending to be nice, but I knew what she was really meaning.

“So the rumors are true?  Or are you here as a nanny escort?”

Seriously?

“I don’t know what rumors you are talking about, but why would a nanny escort this type of event?  I see no children.”  I looked around briefly, then looked my former employer squarely in the eyes.

Her comment was meant to be an insult, but it was a bad one.  She sounded like an idiot.

“I see you’ve moved up in scale.”

“That is perhaps the most unintelligent thing I have heard in a long while.”  I stared the woman down.  I’ve never been gifted with quick wit when it comes to confrontation, but truth is truth.

  “You’re a little out of your league.  Don’t you think?”  She finally addressed her point without dancing around the subject.  The last time she’d seen me, I was just a geeky college student, a Brooklyn nobody who was trying to make a dollar to pay her way through school.

Three smug smiles faced me.  My expression was dry. 
Really?

“Who is out of her league?”

Mason’s voice tore all of us from the moment.  His inflection was commanding, and his gaze was turbulent as he glanced between the three women and me.  “I do hope you were not addressing that question toward
my fiance
.”

He stood there, eyes blazing, holding a scotch in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other.  Smoothly, he walked around the table and fluidly set the drinks down.  The three women watched silently as he knelt over and kissed my cheek, and placed a hand possessively on my shoulder.  He looked at them pointedly.

“That was a rather rude question, don’t
you
think, Mrs. Sloane?”

My former employer pursed her lips into a thin red line.  I could see the heat flushing her face from embarrassment.  Her two companions shifted uncomfortably.

Oh, my Mason.

“You have never found me posing that question to either you or your husband regarding these events.”  Mason gave them a reserved smile.  “... Even though I am very well aware that you cannot afford ten thousand dollars a plate.  Have a pleasant evening.” He nodded to them in dismissal, as though they were nothing more than employees in his company.

Mrs. Sloane swallowed hard, overcome with humiliation.  Without a word, she left our table.  The ladies who accompanied her seemed less interested in being her friend after that.  They drifted apart and floated back to their husbands or dates.

I inhaled deeply and exhaled, feeling my nerves. 

“I’m sorry.  I should have known better than to leave you to the wolves at a place like this.  Are you alright?”  His lips were lush against my cheek, and he handed me the crystal wine glass.

I took it gratefully and sipped.  “You will have to leave me sometimes.  You won’t always be around to babysit me, darling.”

He nodded, distractedly.  There was still a storm cloud around him.  I could see it in his eyes, in the knot of his jaw.  It has been a while since I saw that tense knot in his jaw.  His hands curled tightly around his scotch glass and he downed the contents in one swig.  Something was very wrong. 

He looked around the room as he set the empty scotch glass on the clothed table.  The expression on his face would easily cause discomfort to anybody who didn’t know him well. 

“Mason… what is it?”  I asked.  I was extremely worried.

“We will not be staying for long,” he responded.

Jackson suddenly approached our table. I was so focused on Mason’s unstable demeanor that I didn’t even notice his cousin make his way over to us.  A tall, gorgeous woman with silky black hair and creamy skin was at his side.  She was most likely a model.  She wore a sleek black, floor-length gown and there was a dazzling diamond choker around her throat.  She smiled at Mason with interest.

“I just got the call from Piper,” Jackson said as he approached.  He nodded at me with a polite smile.

“Hello Jillian.  Congratulations on deciding to say yes to this boy here.”

“Thanks, Jax.”  I smiled tightly, and I looked to Mason with concern.

“...Yes, she’s been ringing my phone, and Zara as well.”  Mason rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

I was beyond confused by this cryptic conversation.  I looked at Mason, and he seemed so far away at that moment.

“What happened?”  I looked at Jackson, hoping to get more answers from him than I’d get from Mason at this point.

Jackson looked between the two of us and quirked an eyebrow at us.

“Mason’s father, my uncle, passed away last night.  It’s been on the BBC World News in the last hour.”

The model at Jackson’s side remained silent, as though she was programmed to just stand there and look pretty.

My mouth might have hit the table.  I looked at Mason, who still seemed distant and calloused.

“What happened?”  I asked the question, looking between Jackson and Mason. 

Mason remained stoic, staring at his empty scotch glass.

“There was an accidental
fire
in my family’s London home.  Fortunately, my mother was away at a spa when it happened.  Nobody else has been hurt.”  Mason responded with emphasis that lacked any emotion.

“It is believed that my uncle had been extremely drunk and then attempted a few smokes before he fell asleep.”  Jackson explained.

“Enough.”  Mason snapped.  He was beastly, and the model at Jackson’s side jumped.

“Get him home,” Jackson said to me.  There was authority in his voice as he looked at me.  “I’ll handle everyone’s questions and phone calls.”

I nodded and Jackson ushered his model friend away from our table.  Without a word, Mason walked with me as we exited the Met.  My mind was buzzing with thoughts and questions. 
Was Mason’s father really dead?  Did Mason know about this when we started the day?

I bit my lower lip in the back of the town car and glanced at Mason.  He was neither grieving or rejoicing.  He remained masked in an emotionless state.
Completely numb.

“Mason?”  I bit my lower lip as I curled into his body in the back of the car.

He said nothing immediately.  He was consumed by his thoughts. 
How can I comfort him and be there for him?

I didn’t know what to do, so I rested my head against his chest and held him tightly.  He wrapped his strong arms around me in a somewhat suffocating embrace, and then raked a single hand through my tousled waves. 

“I’m sorry.” I breathed, still holding him tightly.  “I love you. So much.”

I listened to his breathing and his wild heart rate in his chest.  His fingers stilled in my hair.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?  You’ve done nothing.”  Mason’s inflection was a growl.

“Still… he was your father-”

“He made my life a living hell, and my sister’s as well.  He’ll never hurt another being again.”

My breathing paused for a moment.  I lie against him, with my head on his chest for the remainder of the car ride.

“I’ll be taking a flight to Heathrow as soon as possible,” his words were empty as we entered the foyer of his penthouse. I watched him set his keys and watch down on the glass table. He spoke to me as though I was nothing more than an office assistant.

“Do you want me to go with you?” I asked. 
I should go to support him and be there for him.

“No.”  That single word stabbed me in the chest.

“But I’m going to be your wife-”

“You’ll go to spend some time with your family in Ohio while I am in London.”  He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

Why?
  I was so confused.  I remained silent. It really hurt that he wanted to keep me away during a time like this.

“Jillian, look at me.”  Mason finally spoke, breaking the silence between us. 

He took my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted my gaze up to meet his.

“Everything I do is to protect you. You are my everything, and I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.  I am sending you to Ohio for a nice little visit while I deal with the funeral arrangements, my family, and business matters.  I will not bring you into that snake pit just yet.”

I licked my lips as I listened to everything he said to me.

“... And when things are settled in England, I will bring you over there to visit.  We’ll buy a house over there if you like.  Hell, I’ll fly your whole family over there and we will have a wedding there if that is what your heart really desires.  For now, let me get things squared away.”

I could only nod my head quietly for the first few seconds.  I waited to hear if he had anything more to say.  When he said nothing more, I spoke in a hoarse whisper.

“This is not about me and what my heart desires.  I just want you, Mason.”

He pulled me into an all-consuming embrace, and held me like this for a very long time.

“I love you. So fucking much.”  His voice was ragged and conflicted.

“And I love you,
my Mason
.”

He might have smiled slightly as I said this, but I don’t know because I was pressed so tightly against his hard body while he held me.