She’d been in a state of perpetual arousal since she’d walked out of the conversation with her bodyguards that afternoon. Hell, she’d been alternately furious and aroused all damn day. Even fucking herself in front of the security cameras hadn’t taken the edge off. Knowing Pack King was watching had been a thrill unlike anything she’d ever experienced, but afterward she’d only wanted more. Things had gotten exponentially worse after Quentin cornered her in the car and said the kinds of things she’d only ever heard in dreams and her preferred pornographic entertainment.
Bianca smiled tightly at the miscellaneous guests she passed on her way across the ballroom. The décor dripped with high class whimsy and dark romance, and everything from the performers positioned throughout the room to the elaborate ice sculptures met her exacting standards. Bianca would ensure her assistants received a generous bonus for their help achieving her vision. They’d worked tirelessly these last weeks to perfect every detail.
Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time, just as they’d planned. Anonymity and alcohol had loosened the guests’ inhibitionsandtheir purse strings. Amelia and Maude’s last update indicated that Bonnycastle Charities had already exceeded their fundraising goal for the evening, and the night was still young. They should easily be able to double that amount by night’s end. The board would be pleased, and her family would headline the newspaper features section and all the other media they cared about. They might even give Bianca some credit.
To her great annoyance, Bianca wasn’t thinking about the numbers or her family or anything related to the event at all. Instead, she was consumed by images of Quentin King leaning toward her, eyes dark and dangerous behind his mask.We’ll have you however we want you, whenever we want you. You can resist, but there will be consequences.
She shivered, though her body was very much on fire. The way he’d looked at her, the way his pheromones had engulfed her, and the confidence in his voice—it had all made her want nothing more than to give herself to him and let him do whatever he desired. She had bared her neck instinctively, hadn’t even paused to consider what she was doing. It was exhilarating and petrifying and she was either going to be sick or insane soon if she didn’t stop thinking about it.
Bianca stopped at the edge of the dance floor to watch her guests twirling drunkenly about. Pack King lingered in the shadows, watching her, just as she knew they’d watched her masturbate that afternoon. Her core clenched deliciously.
She’d thought about texting Callum several times but knew she needed to make this decision for herself. He’d encouraged her enough, which is probably the only reason she’d found the nerve to proposition her bodyguards in the first place. Tomorrow, after she’d texted Quentin King her safe words and committed to this whole sordid affair, she’d call Callum and tell him everything. He was going to shit a brick when shetold him about her little performance. She still couldn’t believe she’d done that.
Again, Bianca felt eyes on her, but when she glanced up, it wasn’t one of her bodyguards. She met a cold gaze that was vaguely familiar, even behind a plain black mask and hooded cloak. The man didn’t look away, didn’t move in the slightest, but his expression seemed to grow more sinister when he realized she’d noticed him. Bianca’s stomach tightened, a stab of anxiety causing her heart to speed up. She scowled, irritated by her reaction, then squared her shoulders, and started across the dance floor toward her observer.
She’d only gone a few steps when a couple careened across her path, laughing and shamelessly groping one another. One of the men shouted something unintelligible at her, his smile garish in the low light. When the couple finally passed, the figure had disappeared into the crowd. Bianca scanned the room impatiently, but the man was nowhere to be seen.
More irritated than ever, she flagged down a server and procured a glass of champagne. She wouldn’t have minded something stronger, but she preferred to stay alert during her fundraising events. She didn’t need alcohol bringing out her blunt honesty when she was trying to charm potential donors.
“Another successful fundraiser. I don’t know how you find the time.”
Bianca almost jumped but a familiar licorice scent reached her nose just in time to help her temper her reaction. Alicia Taylor-Berry Bertram drew up beside her, shrewd green eyes assessing Bianca from behind an elaborate Venetian mask. Bianca gave her a perfunctory glance before turning her attention back to the dancers and, more importantly, her champagne.
“We find the time for what we deem important,” Bianca replied dryly. “Glad you could make it. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on the catering staff.”
Alicia laughed humorlessly. “Yes, I know how very in demand you are. Between the Clifton-Merriwether boy and that sad little tech guy, your social calendar must be so overwhelming.”
It was as though Alicia had doused her with ice water. Bianca turned slowly back to the other omega, fixing her expression into one of contemptuous boredom. Inside, however, her heart was pounding and that uncomfortable tightness had returned to her belly.
“I make do,” Bianca answered coldly. “But I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I don’t have any tech guys on my calendar, sad or otherwise.”
Alicia tilted her head, still scrutinizing Bianca’s every move, no doubt searching for weaknesses. “Well, perhaps he’s not on your radar yet. But he sure found ways to ask about you during his sales pitch. Roger or Rodney or something like that.”
Bianca fought down the panic trying to claw its way up her throat. Why the fuck would Robert be asking people about her? What was he even doing in her social circle? Why would he risk provoking her fathers just to gossip with some pack she hardly knew?
Robert and Frank might not be able to say certain things without legal ramifications, but it didn’t take much to start rumors. Bianca didn’t want to be associated with them in any way. The last thing she needed was for Alicia to latch on to the connection and turn it into juicy gossip.
She frowned at her watch. “I encounter a lot of people in my charity work. Did he say how we met?”
Alicia looked disappointed by Bianca’s lack of reaction. Her tone grew sullen. “I don’t know. I hardly listened. I owed a friend a favor and so I got him a meeting with Bertram so he could peddle his ITservices. He droned on and on about cybersecurity and identity theft, then started in on my brand as an influencer or whatever. Turns out he’s a big fan of my content. He said that with my very public persona I’m at a higher risk for scammers and that I can’t be as careless as my less famous friends. Somehow that turned into asking if I was particularly close to Bianca Bonnycastle. He probably saw pictures of us together online and was fishing for an introduction. Sounds like you’ve picked up another questionable admirer.”
Bianca was so relieved that she forgot to be cutting in reply. Robert was just playing the game, trying to get business by insinuating connections with the right people. Alicia probably only mentioned it because she was still salty about their little tiff over brunch. Bianca decided to try flattery for a change.
“Well, I thank you for not burdening me with that introduction,” she said. “He’s probably right about your cybersecurity. You are far too famous to risk being hacked. Let me know if you contract his services and how that goes. Now, I really must speak with the caterers.”
Once or twice more, Bianca felt that unsettling sensation of being watched. A few times, she even caught a whiff of scent that tugged at her subconscious. There’d been many moments like this since the run-in at the shopping village, which pissed her off to no end. She hated that seeing Robert had affected her so much, making her paranoid and anxious, afraid he might appear again unexpectedly. She hated that he still had power over her after all this time.
Bianca wasn’t going to let him control her. She was going to do whatshewanted to do for once in her life. Before she could talk herself out of it, Bianca sent a message to her bodyguards.
Caviar when I near my limit. Calligraphy if I need to stop. Velvet = softer/gentler. Diamond = meaner/harder.
“Executive bathroom.Now.”
A familiar growl and the maddening scent of sweet tobacco, whiskey, and caramel sent a thrill down Bianca’s spine. She kept her breathing steady, straightening her shoulders and maintaining her bland expression. Her hand didn’t even shake as she lifted her champagne flute to her lips with practiced nonchalance.
Still, her traitorous body reacted, and Quentin made sure she knew he’d noticed. He inhaled deeply before releasing a low, dark chuckle on an exhale of breath that caressed the back of her neck. Then he was gone, melting back into the crowd as quickly as he’d appeared.
The big one was already positioned outside of the bathroom when Bianca finally decided to obey Quentin’s command. The colossal oaf gave her his wide smile and winked at her from behind his simple domino mask. It made Bianca want to step on his balls.
