Seven Years of Bad Luck (17 page)

What’s my problem?

The ballroom was equal in beauty to the mansion. Large round tables with beautiful floral and candle centerpieces littered the room. The walls were an earthy truffle color. They contrasted well with the crisp white linen everywhere throughout the room. There was a large dance floor in the center with a dimly lit glistening chandelier above it. Wide draping streamers drooped and jutted outward from the chandelier in the center of the ceiling. Near the front of the room was a DJ and a fifteen piece big band. We found our table, and he gave me the details about the charity and told me what the evening would entail. There was a silent auction, dinner, dancing, and mingling on the agenda. I expect the mingling part was important to most everyone there. Rich well-to-do people love other rich well-to-do people. I was introduced to the other guests at our table, and Ben made conversation easily, while I people watched and sat silently with my thoughts.

Geez, Ben must be seriously loaded. More than I had thought.

I didn’t think he was the ridiculously rich type. He seemed so normal at the book store. Well, mostly normal, I guess. He sat forward in his seat while engaging in conversation with the others at our table then leaned back when the conversation waned. He lifted his arm and rested it across the back of my chair while sipping on some amber colored alcohol. He appeared far more comfortable than I was.

“Thanks again for asking me to come with you tonight. This must have been so expensive.” I made sure to whisper my appreciation discreetly. My fidgeting with my hair persisted. I absentmindedly swept it from my back to rest across my shoulder, down the front of my chest. Ben smiled and winked, then his hand moved to my back, and his thumb made slow sweeping passes back and forth across my shoulder blade. I remembered my tattoo and panicked. I made a move to sweep my hair back off my shoulder to tumble down my back in an effort to conceal some of the ink. Ben caught my wrist with his free hand and leaned in close to my face. So close I could smell the liquor on his breath, and could tell that he was drinking scotch.

“Don’t.” He placed my trapped hand back into my lap, and I leaned back fractionally to look at him better.

“I… I don’t want, I mean, people will look. I don’t want to embarrass you. Or myself for that matter.”

His eyes narrowed, but his thumb continued stroking my back. “You are not an embarrassment, Kathleen. I don’t want to hear you say that again. It doesn’t matter what others say; I like it. I’m just glad that I chose a dress that showcases it so well. As far as the money goes? Don’t worry about it. I have far more money than I could ever need or use. Do you understand?”

I nodded slowly feeling like a chastised child.

“Say you understand, Kathleen.”

Why does he call me Kathleen? Aidan called me that. He knows I prefer to be called Kat.

“I understand.”

He nodded and looked out to the dance floor filling with couples while the DJ began to play.

Please don’t ask. Please don’t ask. Please don’t ask.

Ben grabbed my hand in his and pinned me with his fierce smoldering blue-green eyes. “Come dance.”

I guess he didn’t ask. He demanded… of course.

He dragged me from the table. Once we stepped out onto the floor, he swept me wide from him and swiftly jerked me back into his body. I was pressed against him, face to face. Memories of my first day at the firm flooded my mind. I knew I should resist, but I wanted him so badly. I wanted all of him. I was drawn to the man on a primal level. There was no fighting raw animal instinct. His right hand pressed against my lower back, and he held my right hand with his left. I rested my other hand high on his chest. He felt so good that close to me. He smelled like heaven. I could only imagine what he would taste like. I was getting distracted by my rogue thoughts and worried about falling on my face.

“Ben, I can’t dance.”

“Shhh, dancing is not something you think about. Let your body do the thinking, and you will be fine.”

I nodded and did my best to do what he said. The song we swayed to was
Trust In Me
by Etta James. Ben was right. Once I stopped thinking and allowed my body to do what felt natural, I melted into him, and together we melted into the sweet, soulful song. I wrapped my free hand around his neck and rested my cheek on his chest. Ben held me tighter to him, and I felt inexplicably at home in his arms. He encapsulated me, separated me from my surroundings. I wasn’t worried about nosey onlookers, judgmental stares, work, my lost inner self, or the story telling ink on my back. Ben’s thumb brushed softly back and forth across my lower back like he did at our table. I sighed with utter contentment. He brushed his chin against my temple, and I lifted my head from his chest to look at him. We locked eyes. Heated, fierce, smoldering blue green eyes bore into me, making me feel completely bare to him. I stared back, giving as good as I got. Ben lowered his head close to mine.

Oh God, he’s really going to kiss me!

He placed his soft, full lips on mine and kissed me chastely. He ended the kiss before I wanted. It was so perfect, but so brief that it left me wanting. Longing. Yearning. Needing. The song ended, and we stood staring at each other for a moment before he led us back to our table. During dinner, he kept his hands on me at all times. His hand on my knee. His thumb lazily stroking my back. Holding my hand in his. I made an attempt to brush my hair away to hang down my back a few times, and every time Ben stopped my hand and narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

I guess he does like the tattoo. He probably wouldn’t if he knew what it was all about.

We danced many times throughout the night. Every dance was just as intense as the first one. We melted together during each song and I had the feeling that in Ben’s arms was where I belonged. The thought scared me witless. But, God, how I wanted him. I wanted to feel his lips against mine again. I wanted to feel his lips all over my body. I wanted to put my lips all over his body, taste his skin, to feel the weight of him above me.

While taking a break between songs, Ben went to the open bar to get drinks. A handsome man approached me at our table. I looked up at a sandy-blonde haired man with beautiful blue eyes and smiled nicely. “I was not going to approach you, but I knew I would be a complete fool to not introduce myself to such a beautiful woman.”

Smooth, chief.

He shoved his hand in my direction. “I’m Stephen Mitchell and you are?” I hesitantly put my hand in his. There was something about Stephen that seemed fishy, but I couldn’t quite discern what it was.

“Hi. I’m Kathleen Cooper.”

A smile slid across his lips, and I was sure that my instincts were more right than wrong. “Can I talk you into a spin around the dance floor?” He did his best to look pleading.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. My date will be back any second.”

“Just one dance, Kathleen.”

“Call me Kat, please.”

“One little dance, Kat.”

I groaned and gave in despite my better judgment screaming that this guy was bad news. “Oh, fine. One dance.” I rose from my seat and placed my hand back in his when he offered it. Stephen pulled me to him when the music picked up. I felt someone staring at me while we danced, and my gut told me it was Ben.

I hope he isn’t pissed. Wait. So what if he is pissed? He has no claim over me. I am not his girlfriend. I’m his employee, for Christ sake! I can dance with whomever I choose to. It’s just one lousy dance.

Stephen interrupted my rebellious private rant. “You know, if you’re here with Benjamin Chase, you’re bound to be disappointed by him.” Stephen shook his head at me with pity.

“I am in fact, here with Benjamin Chase, but why would I be disappointed in him?”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

“What business is it of yours?” I shot back a little too defensively.

“It isn’t. I just figured that a beautiful woman like you should know that being involved the womanizing Benjamin Chase will only lead to heartache. Why waste your time with someone like him?”

Asshole!

“And I assume you would have me believe that your motivation for taking a jab at Benjamin Chase behind his back is solely because you have my best interests at heart? Me? A total stranger to you?”

“Are you a lawyer as well?”

Could’ve been. Should’ve been.

“No, I’m not a lawyer.”

“Could have fooled me.” He smirked at me patronizingly. I wanted the song to end already, so I could get away from this guy. He was irritating me. The last few notes of the song played after what felt like an eternity of dancing with him.

“Well, Kathleen, it was a pleasure.” He slipped a business card into my hand. “And just in case you decide that you don’t want to be caught up with a womanizing playboy, give me a call. I would love to take you out sometime.”

Yeah, jackass, we’ll go out on the tenth of never
.

I nodded curtly and turned to walk away. When I faced our table, Ben was nowhere in sight. My heart sank.

Shit! I’ve pissed him off. What if he took off and left me here?

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around my elbow and forcefully whirled me around. I gasped and stumbled before Ben grabbed me by my waist and pulled me into his strong steady body.

“Care to dance again? Or did Stephen, a man whom I despise, tire you?”

I cringed inside.
Ah, shit! That guy was his enemy. No wonder.

I directed my eyes toward the ground to avoid Ben’s scrutinizing glare. “What did I tell you about looking me in the eyes, Kathleen?” He lifted my chin. I stared him in the eyes and could see he was pissed and… jealous?

“You’re mad at me aren’t you?”

He sighed. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at him. Please don’t do that again. I have enemies, Kathleen, and they would like nothing more than to take a shot at me publicly. Stephen chose to dance with the woman I brought as my date who just so happens to be the most breathtaking woman in the room. He danced with you to get to me, and I am sure he badmouthed me. Right?” I looked away from him again out of shame. I should have known better. Ben was wealthy, powerful, and successful. He was bound to have enemies who waited around for an opportunity to pounce.

“Right,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I didn’t know.”

“Forget it.” His tone was clipped and harsh. “But I will remind you of one thing, Kathleen. You are here with me. Tonight you’re mine,” he said while pulling me closer. My stomach turned and ravenous sexual need filled me. His words sounded like a threat, a promise, and a statement all in one. He didn’t ask what Stephen said about him, nor did he tell me that whatever Stephen said was bound to be lies.

Is he a womanizer? Does he admit to it? Google will shed some light.

After my dance with the enemy doused the mood, we chose to leave. I didn’t want the night to end, but I was eager to get to the bottom of things with the help of Google. Before we left, Ben excused himself and approached the event coordinator that I recognized from earlier in the evening. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out what I could tell was an envelope.

Donating to the charity, I guess.

Ben shook hands with the man, then came back to my side. He placed his arm around my waist, and we left.

The ride home from the ball was tense. Ben didn’t say anything, and I had little to say since the dancing-with-the-enemy debacle. I didn’t want the night to end, especially on a sour note. “Look, I’m sorry about Stephen. I didn’t know. Tonight was wonderful, so don’t let him, or me, ruin it for you.” He kept his eyes askew, and his jaw was tense. We sat close but not touching and he barely looked in my direction.

“The night isn’t over, Kathleen.”

Not over? What?

“It’s still early. We’re going to have drinks.”

Try asking next time!

“Um, okay, I guess. Where are we going?” Ben finally looked at me and smiled tightly.

“My place.” I couldn’t keep my reaction from showing. My eyebrows shot up, and I jerked my head back as if I had been slapped.

I can’t go to his house. I’m not ready to go to a private place with him.

“That’s nice of you to invite me, but I think it’s best if I go home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re dressed up and you look amazing; taking you home before you have had a decent night would be insulting.” His words came out firm and gave me the feeling that he was not willing to negotiate on the subject.

Fine. Whatever.

I sighed and rolled my eyes while looking out the window at the passing scenery. “Okay, Ben.”

He placed his hand on my knee and squeezed. A tremor of arousal shot through my body, and I shivered. “Cold?” Ben asked wearing an ostentatious smirk.

Before I could answer, he released my seat belt and wrapped his long, muscular arm around my waist and slid me across the leather seat. He pulled me into his warm body, and I nibbled on my lower lip nervously. The car drove through a set of massive wrought iron gates and up to a wide cobblestone circle drive. Ben’s home was brilliant. Extravagant. Huge. It had a French architectural theme. There was a multitude of large unique windows and a stained glass window above the double door entry. We walked up the stairs to the doors, and Ben ushered me into the foyer.