Event Planner Sharice Peters has her hands full with her arrogant client Elias Cook; never mind that the man was eye candy and made her panties wet. His controlling and demanding nature set her teeth on edge and she found him to be a pain in her rear.
Who knew her little costume stunt would get her the reaction it did from Elias at his Halloween masquerade party.
Sharice’s office door closed with a snap behind the arrogant entrepreneur Elias Cook. Sharice would have thrown her paperweight at the door if her best friend and partner Claire hadn’t snatched it out of her hand. Thwarted in venting her exasperation one way, Sharice instead let her thoughts rip verbally.
“He is such an arrogant SOB. He demands and I—I mean we—are supposed to jump to do his bidding.” Sharice scowled at the door.
A cough interrupted Sharice as she opened her mouth to continue her tirade, and she turned to stare at her friend.
“You kind of have to. You’re his event planner—whatever he wants, you are required to make happen,” Claire stated factually, pushing her glasses up on her button nose.
Sharice glared. “Well, he doesn’t have to be sooo bossy about it, and the way he stares at you with those icy, penetrating eyes.”
Claire rolled her eyes at Sharice’s exaggeration, “Perhaps his eyes look icy because they’re a strange, light silver and it comes across that way.”
Sharice eyes narrowed to slits. “Hey, whose side are you on, hmmm? You’re supposed to be my friend and listen to me vent my angst, not make excuses for Elias.”
“Just saying the truth.” Claire shrugged her dainty, dark brown shoulders.
They were both in Sharice’s office leaning against her desk. Sharice reached over and poked her friend, earning her a slap to the shoulder; they both jostled each other and then broke down into fits of laughter.
“All right, I’ll stop insulting your new friend Elias, because I know you have a crush on him. Besides, he does seem to be charming with you and everyone else. I appear to rub him the wrong way.” Sharice moved away from her desk and walked around it to sit in her leather recliner. “And you can give me back my favourite paperweight; I would never have thrown it at him even if he really did deserve it.”
Claire turned to face her and reached over, dropping the jagged, abstract crystal back on the desk. “Yup, you would be right about my crush. Who wouldn’t have a crush on him? He’s fine for a white guy. If you were being honest, you’d admit you have a crush on him too. Elias might even show you his charming side, if you would smile at him instead of scowling when he opens his mouth. Personally, I think you both are fighting a strong attraction to each other.”
Sharice glared in response to Claire’s comment and then silently admitted to herself that, deep down inside, she found Elias’s dark good looks and silver eyes panty-wetting too. She was finding it hard not to throw herself on him and beg him to take her, right there and then. Damn, he was seriously fine. Elias Cook was on the
Forbes
list of young, handsome, wealthy men in their late 30s. At 35, three years older than her, he had become a successful millionaire.
Forbes
had detailed his hard ride to the top. How he had started with nothing, working odd jobs to save money to renovate his first house and then flipping it for profit.
Elias soon made a name for himself by continuing to buy, renovate, and flip houses. He then expanded to restaurants, then reality TV shows documenting his craft—the rest was history. He had women flocking to him in droves, and tabloids and newspapers always had pictures of him escorting socialites, models, and actresses—the cream of the crop for a man with his magnetism.
“So what just happened before I walked in?” Claire arched an eyebrow and shifted against Sharice’s desk.
Sharice’s mind flashed to what had occurred in the office before Claire had arrived late for their meeting with Elias. During their conversation, Sharice had found it hard to pay attention to his long list of instructions when he looked so good today. Instead of his typical three-piece suit, he had come into Fine Event Planning wearing dark navy jeans that hugged his sculpted legs to perfection and a tight-fitting T-shirt that flaunted his muscular arms, chest, and abs. Elias’s dark navy shirt emphasized naturally tanned skin from the sun. His hair, usually controlled and slicked back with gel, was now lying thick and unruly on his head, medium-length tresses falling to his shoulders, the shorter locks in the front caressing his cheekbones and ears in a slight wave. His black hair provided a foil for his silver eyes, making them stand out.
Her gaze had travelled along Elias’s sculpted cheeks, down to his chiselled jaw, and across to his luscious lips. For someone with a constantly icy disposition, his lips were a delightful surprise. They should be thin and tight, but instead both were full, making her want to suck on them for hours.
Sharice was focused on what she wanted to do to those lips and where they could give her the most pleasure when she realized the room had gone silent.
Sharice tore her eyes away from his lips to see why he had stopped talking. Elias was staring at her with a knowing look, and Sharice flushed as she realized she had been caught gazing lustily at him, as so many of his other women must do every day. Silently thanking the heavens for her dark mocha skin, which hid her embarrassment, Sharice straightened her shoulders and arched a thin eyebrow, resting her hand on her ample hips.
“Sorry I got overwhelmed and spaced out with all the demands and instructions you were giving me about your ideas for your Halloween masquerade gala.”
He glared back in response. “I expect professionalism at all times, Ms. Peters, and I do not have time or money to spend on someone who loses focus when I am giving them simple commands.”
Sharice’s jaw dropped at his audacity. She took a deep breath before saying icily, “I am so sorry, Mr. Cook. You’re right. It won’t happen again.” Turning toward her desk to pick up her notebook to jot down notes, she muttered under her breath, “Pompous, retentive control freak.” Spinning back around to face him again with her notebook in hand, she gave a small squeal of fright when she came face to face with the top of his chest and neck; craning her neck back a little, she glanced into his gorgeous eyes, which were gleaming down at her with sudden interest.
Sharice shifted backwards, coming up against her desk, and Elias followed, crowding her, and then boxed her in by planting his hands behind her on her desk.
“What did you just say, Ms. Peters? I didn’t quite catch that last little bit.”
Having had quite enough of his intimidation, Sharice was about to tell him what she thought of him when a hard knock came at the door and it opened to show Claire standing in the doorway, her light brown eyes opening wide at the sight of Elias trapping Sharice at her desk.
Sharice pushed at his hard chest to get him to move, but Elias didn’t budge until she gazed back at him.
Bending down toward her ear, he whispered huskily, “This isn’t over.”
Sharice shivered at the feel of his hot breath caressing her ear and thought,
Did my panties just get wet?
Squeezing her thighs together, Sharice pushed on his chest again. Taking his time, he finally backed away and looked at Claire, giving her a flashing grin.
“Hi, Claire, how are you doing? You’re coming to my Halloween masquerade gala, right?” he inquired.
Sharice could see that Claire was momentarily stunned by the smile he gave her, and then she shook her head to clear it. Claire walked into the office, moving past him to stand by Sharice at her desk.
“Yes, although I’ll be wrapping up another daytime event and won’t be able to get there until later in the evening. I’ll be able to help Sharice with the rest of the festivities and then the wrap-up after.”
Giving Claire a quick nod, Elias turned and began heading toward the door.
Sharice sputtered, “Elias, where are you going? Claire is here now, and we haven’t finished finalizing all your requirements for the Gala.”
Elias stopped and turned to her, arching a dark brow. “I’m running late for a meeting and cannot stay and re-discuss with you what I said before; I will send you a detailed email later this evening. I expect you both to represent me properly and be dressed in appropriate Halloween costumes.” Not waiting for a response, Elias turned and strode out the door.
***
“Earth to Sharice, Earth to Sharice. Come back, come back from wherever you are.” Claire snapped her fingers in front of her friend to get her attention, breaking her out of her thoughts of Elias. “What did he mean by appropriate Halloween costumes? And you didn’t answer my question about what I walked into.”
Sharice just shrugged. “I’m pretty sure we’ll get a very detailed list of what we should be wearing to his event, down to our underwear, and you didn’t walk into anything. I was just getting my notebook and didn’t realize he had moved so close—no biggie.”
“Didn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me,” Claire muttered under her breath.
Sharice ignored Claire’s comment. Realizing she wasn’t going to get anything out of her, Claire decided to change the subject.
“Anyway, do you have any idea what you’re going to wear to his event, and aren’t you excited? This will be the biggest bash he has ever thrown, and a lot of important people will be there. Hopefully this will also give us more work.” Claire’s brown skin flushed with excitement.
“Yes, I know exactly what I’m going to wear, despite his wardrobe commands.” Sharice smiled evilly.
Claire just stared back with growing suspicion and then horror in her hazel eyes. “No way. You are not wearing that hideous costume from two years ago.”
“Never mind what I’m going to wear. We have a lot of work to do.” Sharice grabbed Claire’s arm and dragged her toward the door, her short legs practically running to keep up with Sharice’s long strides.
Sharice was beginning to sweat and itch under the weight and heavy makeup of her witch costume. She was beginning to regret her decision, as she was surrounded by beautiful people wearing outfits from every fairytale imaginable and sporting beautiful, intricate masks to hide their identities. The room was a sea of colour, with fairies, princes, kings, queens, and princesses. Along the walls were tall vases filled with a rainbow of candies that resembled jewels. The tables on the sides and a scattering of stands were filled with autumn flowers and small pumpkins.
In this stunning setting, Sharice’s costume stood out like a sore thumb. Her costume had a tight black-and-red corset with huge, puffy sleeves. The corset sat on top of a long, full, black skirt, which covered most of her witch’s shoes, except for the red, pointy, curled tips. The long twists of her hair were pinned up under a coarse black wig. Her burnt cinnamon skin—what wasn’t covered by her Halloween costume—was covered in lime-green makeup, including her face, except for her nose and where the mask hid part of her face and forehead. Sharice had a long, crooked witch’s nose with a big wart at the tip and prickly hair sprouting out of it. She was finding it very difficult to breathe, between the nose and the weight of her mask. It served her right for trying to rebel against Elias’s orders. Now she was uncomfortable and suffering under the heat of the lights and the amount of body heat the guests were
generating.
Sometime during the night, Sharice was sure she would also incur the wrath of Elias when he finally spotted her in this get-up. He had been around in the beginning giving her and her staff more orders, but later he had disappeared into his study for an important meeting. When he walked into his office, Sharice used the opportunity to hurry and get into her attire in one of the many rooms he had provided for her and her staff to change in and store their personal items.
She had been at the front of the house when the guests arrived; making sure her staff was greeting them and escorting them into the ballroom on Elias’s estate. She even received some compliments on the uniqueness of her outfit, but she was sure Elias would not appreciate it, because she had ignored his command. Later, when he finally made his way down, Sharice had hidden from him and kept out of his line of sight as more guests arrived, busying herself by working behind the scenes to make sure everything was running smoothly.
Claire had finally shown up and shook her curly brown head at the outfit.
“Did that outfit get even uglier since the last time you wore it?” Claire questioned, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
Sharice shrugged. “Naaah, it’s just you. You haven’t seen it for a while, and it will probably appear more and more hideous every time you see it tonight.” Giving her a cheeky grin, Sharice passed over the clipboard with instructions and names of guests who were running late to Elias’s event.
Now she was off to the side keeping her eyes on Elias’s progress as he mingled with his guests. The party was in full swing. He stole her breath away tonight; he was very handsome in his prince’s outfit. His hair was slicked back again; his tailored costume and black mask complemented his dark good looks and silver eyes, with the same black and silver colours running throughout his jacket. The tailored jacket encased his broad shoulders, and his black satin pants sculpted his legs, displaying the tight globes of his buttocks as he strode around his ballroom.
Feeling very parched suddenly, Sharice was glad when a waiter dressed as a stable boy offered her a flute of champagne. Taking a sip of the decadent bubbly, she swayed from side to side to the music the orchestra was playing. Observing a passing couple waltzing by her, Sharice gave herself a mental pat on the back. She and her staff had accomplished a great deal, transforming this opulent ballroom into a room filled with elegant Halloween decorations. The guests were enjoying themselves, and Elias should be pleased all his demands had been met, and his masquerade party was a huge success.
Taking another sip from the flute, she glanced up. The mingling and dancing guests had parted, giving Elias a good look at her. Sharice nearly choked on the champagne with laughter from the glare of shock and horror Elias was giving her. When his gaze changed from shock to anger, his emotions tightening his face into a mask, Sharice gulped the rest of her champagne down.
She rested her empty glass on the tray of another passing waiter and glanced toward Elias to see him making his way through the crowd to her. Sharice was battling her instinct not to run from the very angry and predatory look Elias was giving her. Sharice sighed in relief when Elias was distracted by a guest seeking his attention. Giving in to her panic mode, she turned and fled through a side door leading out of the ballroom.
She made her way around the massive spiralling staircase that lead to his upstairs wing and hurried down the long hallway, searching for a room where she could calm her nerves and escape from Elias for a second. Just a second, she told herself, because she was no coward, and she really hadn’t done anything wrong. Okay, possibly just a little.
Sharice opened the door to his lounge room and was pleased to see a light was on so she didn’t have to stumble in the dark to find a switch. Sharice made her way into the room and sat down on one of his leather chairs that faced away from the door, a single-seater with an ottoman in front, her skirt making a crinkling sound as she rested on it. Her heart raced with anticipation of the confrontation she was sure would happen when he found her.
Taking off her mask, hat, and witch’s nose, Sharice took a deep breath and shut her eyes for a minute, kicking off her shoes because they were pinching her feet, and propping them up on the ottoman. It had been a long day, and she was hot and tired from all the organizing and running around she’d had to do to make this event run smoothly.
Her eyes popped open when she heard the door open, and she glanced over the top of the chair to see Elias coming into the lounge, his gaze moving about the room until he spotted her.
Well, that didn’t take very long,
Sharice thought as he closed the door behind him with an ominous click.