Take Me (6 page)

A rapid knock sounded at the door. Felicity flung it open on a grin. Beth Hamilton was a looker, a straight up knockout with milk chocolate skin, a strong, curvaceous body to die for and hair that Felicity seriously wished she could have. For the past few months Beth had been wearing her gorgeous black locks in a long sleek cut past her shoulders with a raggedly cut bang sweeping her forehead. It rocked and it rocked on her.

She also was a war vet. Yeah, really. She’d served in Iraq for four years before finishing her tour and leaving the military. She’d only ever talked about it once, but Felicity knew it’d scarred her. She’d been working the med unit on a plane flying into a zone that had been hit hard. Her team’s job was to grab the wounded, pull them aboard, and rush out. At some point she got shot twice, both bullets landing in her leg. Even today she had a noticeable limp. She might have lost her leg if she hadn’t been surrounded by a med team. Beth never wanted to talk about it so Felicity never asked. Everyone had demons.

Beth gave her a tight hug then strolled past smelling of some sultry, subtle perfume.

“Dish everything,” Beth ordered. Then she picked up Hugo and petted him until his eyes couldn’t stay open.

“All right but I need you to help me pick out something killer to wear.”

“Killer?”

“Yeah, I wanna blow this guy out of the park if you know what I mean.” It’s the least he deserves.

Beth followed Felicity into the bedroom then plopped down on her bed. “I’m not sure I do, honey.”

Felicity’s lips curled into an evil smile.

Beth laughed. “You’re going to make him regret what he did aren’t you?”

Felicity shrugged. “I don’t know ‘regret’ so much as ‘torture’ him. He was such an asshole. He deserves some payback and I’m going to give it to him that’s all.”

“He really got under your skin, didn’t he?” Beth asked softly.

Felicity jerked her gaze away and started rooting through her closet. “Yeah, he kind of did,” she said not meeting her friend’s eyes.

Beth sighed long and hard. Then she got up and helped Felicity to put on the perfect outfit. She chose the best shoes to go with it and even made up her hair and makeup into a sexy, sultry look. Beth had a hand with makeup, really.

By time Beth finished with her, she wore a black cocktail dress that she strictly used for club nights. Seeing as she hadn’t been to one in at least six months the dress could use some airing out. The only other time she’d worn the “daring cocktail” dress had been on her last date with David.

Shivering, she tried to shove the memory away but it refused to go. David had not exactly been the best date she’d ever had. It’d been set up by another friend of hers, Trish, whom she didn’t exactly see any more after that. It was just awkward, not that she blamed her old friend. During dinner that night David hadn’t been able to tear his gaze off her in the dress. That had been exactly what she wanted, right? Yeah, well no. He’d sent nothing but the wrong vibes at her, and when he grabbed her hand and slid her palm over the erection in his pants while sitting in a packed, four-star restaurant she’d called it quits and stormed out. She shivered again at the thought. Seriously disgusting.

Now she’d wear the dress again for old time’s sake, because tonight she wanted Dominic Blackmoore’s attention. She wanted to look sharp, classy, and sexy because these were people that looked good all the time and she had to impress them to get this job. Also, because she wanted Dominic to look at her that same hungry way he had yesterday but know he’d never touch her.

The cocktail dress had one quarter-cut sleeve on one arm and left the other arm bare so she slid on a gold jingly bracelet on her wrist. From under her right arm the dress swooped up to her sleeved shoulder revealing her neckline and a decent portion of her back. It was sexy enough to get attention but not inappropriate. The cut of the dress looked elegant. What was really going to knock her look out of the park—aside from her lovely updo of curls and her smoky makeup—were her legs and shoes.

At Beth’s cajoling she pulled on black nylon stockings with black lace edging. However, when the stockings started rolling down her not-so-slim thighs like curlicues Felicity finally relented at Beth’s insistence and put on the matching garter belt to keep them up. Just feeling the soft, scratchy feeling of the nylons on her smooth legs with the straps of the garter holding them up made her feel naughtier—and more than ready to square off against Dominic Blackmoore.

Do your worst,
she thought with a grin.

It wasn’t like she didn’t wear her fair share of sexy clothes. She
loved
sexy underwear and had the entire drawer full of thongs, G-strings, hip huggers, full bottom panties in lace, satin, a variety of colors and textures with straps, bows, and flowers to prove it. But she never wore such things to a job interview or even for herself.

Tonight that would change.

Tonight she was getting this job no matter what.

Felicity checked her reflection one last time. She looked perfect. Sexy, professional, but slightly more on the sexy side. Her portfolio was on the kitchen table ready to go, and her shoes were polished black and shiny.

Beth whistled a catcall. “Girl, you look
fine
. That man won’t know what hit him.”

“I hope so.” How could he just give her the cold shoulder after the kiss they’d shared?

“So what’s this really about: getting the job or getting payback?”

Felicity fidgeted with her dress then glanced at the clock. “Um...both I guess.” Beth arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her and Felicity ducked out of the bedroom. Hugo trotted behind her, hot on her heels as she headed toward the kitchen.

Beth leaned against her stove, arms crossed. “Well if he’s anything like his brother the man must be made to please a woman.”

Felicity blinked. “I haven’t met any of his brothers. I know he has a few. Which one are you talking about?”

Beth’s pupils dilated and her tongue darted across her bottom lip. “Which one? That’d be Lucas Blackmoore as in LBB—the Lucas Blackmoore Band. He’s only all the rage
everywhere
.” Beth’s eyes grew unfocused, her voice soft. “He has the voice of an angel. I know that sounds stupid but,
damn
, his voice is a perfect mixture of husky, smooth-rolling tenor that craves your attention. It’s the kind of voice you can’t turn away from. And his songs? He writes it all himself, the lyrics, the music, all of it. This isn’t some every day, run of the mill musician. Lucas Blackmoore is an artist who treats his music like it’s his life’s passion.”

Felicity stared at her friend with wide eyes and a new appreciation for someone’s music she’d never heard before. Seeing Felicity’s gaze, Beth narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side.

“You haven’t heard of him?” She asked it with disbelief as if she was asking Felicity how she could never have heard of
the freaking sun
.

“Um...well you know me. I’m not the biggest music person.” Felicity cringed as Beth’s eyes bugged. “Hey, you know this about me, and when I do listen to music I prefer the kind without words. Instrumental, classical stuff, you know?”

Beth was shaking her head in what could only be described as
massive
disappointment. “Why am I your friend, and how come I never knew this about you? I mean seriously, he’s all I ever listen to. All I’ve listened to since Iraq and you’re going to work for his family!”

“I’ll tell you what after I get this job, if I run into Lucas Blackmoore, I’ll get him to sign something for you, okay?”

Beth’s eyes flashed with fear. “No! That’s not necessary, really.”

Felicity frowned. “Why not? You have something against signatures?” She laughed at her own joke but Beth only shook her head.

“No, really don’t bother him. Um,” she ran a hand down her hair then rubbed her hands down her pants.

“Wait are you telling me that you like LBB so much that even the thought that I could get a signature for you is too much to bear?”

Beth grimaced. “Well when you say it like that I sound like a pussy but yes, totally. I don’t want him to know I exist.”

Felicity laughed at her friend’s ridiculous thoughts. “That must mean you’ve had some pretty heavy thoughts about him.”

Beth’s beautiful dark eyes rounded into saucers. “Girl, you have no idea. The man’s voice occupies me nearly everywhere I go. He sings me to sleep. His voice wakes me up in the morning. I listen to him while I drive to work and while I shower. I mean
all the time.
So I guess you could say I’ve had ‘heavy’ thoughts about him.”

Felicity whistled low under her breath. “Sounds like a serious crush to me.”

“More like hardcore in love.”

Beth said it jokingly but neither of them missed the longing ringing in those words. Felicity didn’t taunt her friend or make fun of her for having a fictional crush on an (apparently) very famous musician.

Instead, she smiled and made a promise. “I’ll get you his signature.”

Beth let out a soft dramatic sigh then pretended to fan herself.

They both burst out laughing and it was then that Felicity’s eyes fell to the clock Beth had been standing in front of.

“Damn! I’m going to be late.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault for carrying on,” Beth said. Then she put on her game face and even her voice hardened. “Okay, grab your shawl and purse, I’ll get your portfolio and meet you out front.”

Felicity raced across her house throwing on her black lacey shawl—really the thing was more decorative than warm, and then snatched up her purse. In less than two minutes she had the house locked up, her car started, and was waving goodbye to Beth.

“Knock ‘em dead,” Beth yelled.

“I plan on it!”

Felicity drove to the most important interview of her life for the second time—the one that could give her a name in the design business—and she was only twenty minutes late.

Chapter 5

In the grand scheme of life twenty minutes was not a significant portion of time.

 Felicity knew this.

However, apparently Ian, the Blackmoore’s executive butler (he actually called himself that) thought twenty minutes was akin to two days. For when she pulled up in her dump of car, he’d not withheld his lip curl of disgust nor did he keep from scolding her. Yes, he publically scolded her even as he led her into the house.

“A young woman like you would do well to realize the significance of being interviewed by Lady Blackmoore herself. In fact, if you were smart you would have come prepared and
early
so as not to make those interviewing you
wait
for you as if
you
are important to
them
when I
assure you
you...are...not. Now if you’ll follow me.”

Felicity didn’t know whether to laugh or feel deeply embarrassed, but her cheeks burned and she chuckled—just a little which made him turn around on her with astonishment. Felicity didn’t know what to make of it. Had she broken some sacred vampire law she didn’t know about? Was she not allowed to giggle in the Blackmoore house? Perhaps it was expressly forbidden.

His lip curled down into a deep, heavy frown that if he wasn’t careful might become permanent on his dark face. He lifted his chin at her. “At least you dressed better tonight. Perhaps that will bode well for you. For all of our sakes, I hope not.”

Well, that wasn’t a nice thing to say. Sort of. “Hey, I need this job,” Felicity said as she was once again led through the massive mansion. This time, however, the butler didn’t lead her to Dominic’s personal lounge but down a separate, shorter hallway where two large wooden doors stood. One was cracked so she could see light filtering through.

“You may need the job, but the Blackmoores deserve the best. Are you
the best?
”

Felicity felt the first flames of anger trigger inside her. “Damn right I’m
the best.
My designs range from interior decorating to exterior decorating to planning lavish dinner parties, balls, galas, rock parties for famous bands, you name it, I’ve done it all.” She had the portfolio to prove it.

And, she was also lying—big time.

Yeah, really.

A year ago she’d fibbed her portfolio. She’d created images using designs of events she’d
like
to throw but hadn’t actually done. Yet. She also listed that she’d worked under clients that she’d only
wished
she worked for. Big named clients, too. Why did she do this? Felicity hated to lie, but she’d been unemployed for more than a year and the job before that had barely paid enough to feed Hugo and pay rent. She was only a few months away from being kicked off her lease—which her landlord already warned her he was doing—and she couldn’t pay her bills. Desperation was an ugly thing.

Therefore, if she had to lie, cheat, or (possibly) steal to get the kind of job she wanted, then she would. And she’d be damn good at it too.

Ian’s uncertain eyes ran over his face before he shook his head. Then he grabbed the door handle of the slightly ajar door and opened it. “They await you, Ms. Shaw,” he said with a slight bow.

Felicity straightened her shoulders then strode toward the door. It was only after she passed through the door and heard it snap closed behind her that she realized something important about what butler Ian just said. That would be that he said “they.” Indeed, Felicity felt her bravado drop through the floor as she stood frozen and staring into the faces of Dominic Blackmoore, his mother Lady Blackmoore, and none other than the beautiful socialite Juliana Greenwich.

Felicity’s eyes wandered to Dominic and her breath caught. Yes, he really was as devastatingly handsome as she’d thought. He wore another suit but today he looked angry and flustered. His eyes were dark and burning with anger aimed straight at her, and though his hateful look made her pulse leap and her stomach twist into knots, she couldn’t help but admire him.

The man could seriously wear clothes. He had his suit jacket unbuttoned and spread out on either side of his chest as if he’d flung it open when he sat down. He wore a pearly white shirt underneath with black little buttons. The top two were undone showing off dark, golden skin. Even the way he leaned back in his seat with his long arms tossed over each of the arm rests screamed
I own this
with masculine perfection. His knees were bent, but spread and Felicity’s gaze wavered at the sight. For a moment all she could do was picture herself between those strong thighs, holding his cock, her low-lidded eyes locked on his as she licked the length of him.