Caught in the Act. Samantha Hunter

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СКАЧАТЬ there. A spotlight focused only on her, with her back to the crowd, revealing a rear view that was just as luscious as the front. He flexed his hands, thinking about closing his palms over that absolutely perfect ass.

      She tipped her cane to a saucy angle and started tapping her foot in time with the hushed drumbeat as music started. When she turned, letting the first lyric slide out on a throaty note that was part growl, part whisper, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, though he’d gladly follow her to hell for a body and a voice like hers.

      “Man, she’s smokin',” a voice said beside him, filled with sheer male appreciation and no small amount of lust. Mason just glared, drawing an inquisitive look from the guy he realized was one of the senior partners, Ron Deerfield, who was in his fifties, long married with grandchildren.

      “Smokin'?”

      “Yes, sir, a hottie. You know her, I take it?” Ron asked.

      “No, but I’m going to,” Mason said resolutely.

      Ron laughed and nodded in agreement. “If I were twenty years younger and Joan wouldn’t flay me alive, I’d give you a run for your money getting to her first.”

      Mason looked at him in shock, and Ron laughed, slapping him on the back. “Hey, I’m fifty-five, not dead. And I have the kids around constantly. They keep me young. I wonder who she is. Star quality, that one.”

      Mason lost track of the conversation as he realized the singer never introduced herself. Odd, especially if this is how she made her bread and butter. As she wrapped up a snazzy tune, some of the crowd sang along. She had them in the palm of her hand. People were dancing and shouting in raucous appreciation as she flipped her hat out into the crowd.

      After what seemed like hours, she finished with her first set, taking bows and exiting the stage. Mason nearly plowed over a few people, including a few very lucrative clients, rushing to meet her behind the makeshift curtain. As he pushed the heavy material to the side and searched for a scarlet sparkle, there was nothing.

      She was gone.

       2

      GINA COULDN’T ESCAPE fast enough, bolting once she got back behind the curtain, making a beeline for the bathroom she’d noticed earlier.

      Lord, she was shaking like a leaf, adrenaline pounding through her system, and she thought she might be sick.

      It had been one of the most incredible experiences of her life. Even if she did have a heart attack now that it was over, she’d die happy. The first song had been a bit pitchy, but then she’d found her rhythm and something had clicked. The audience was so responsive she couldn’t help but let loose and give it her all. It was as if she’d turned into a completely different woman on stage.

      As she passed by the mirror in the bathroom, she caught sight of her sexy outfit and flushed cheeks, and looked into her own large, bright eyes. Was that her?

      Wow.

      She did look sexy, like she’d just had a heck of a roll in the hay, though to be honest, her performance was more satisfying and exciting than any sex she’d had in her life. Sad, but true.

      It had to be the outfit, the disguise. She’d once heard Halloween referred to as “Come as you aren’t night,” and that was certainly true in her case. She’d never been as overtly sexy as she’d been on stage. She’d never have been able to carry it off without the mask and knowing she was completely anonymous.

      It was also liberating not to be compared to Tracy for once. She’d never really understood how much she craved that, to be at center stage, growing up in her pretty, younger sister’s shadow. The thought sobered her and reminded her why she was here, and it wasn’t for the ego boost.

      She was here to steal those photos from Mason Scott, who’d been front and center for her performance. Even in his costume, she’d recognized him from his picture on the Internet Web site for his firm. He was much more imposing in person. She’d tried to avoid eye contact, but the guy was like a magnet. His presence filled the room, a sexy vampire looking at her like she was dinner. The way his eyes latched on to her made her feel even more naked than she actually was.

      Oddly, she’d liked it. Or her make-believe self did, anyway.

      Mason had made her hotter with a look than any other man had done with more, and she had to remind herself he was the enemy. A sinfully gorgeous enemy who had a heavy swath of dark hair falling partly down over his brow and intense green eyes. Even his makeup and fangs couldn’t mask his strong jawline and passionate mouth, or his nicely shaped, classic chin.

      Moving to the sink, she splashed a little cold water on her face and calmed down somewhat. Her cabaret singer self wondered what it would have been like to sing a song right to Mason, to tempt him the way he was tempting her. What would it be like to be with a man like that?

      “This costume is doing things to my brain, apparently,” she whispered to herself, shaking off the fantasy and intending to blend in to the crowd.

      Taking a deep breath, she oriented herself in the room and spotted the main hallway that Tracy said led to the back offices. Getting there was a whole different deal—someone stopped her every three feet to praise her performance. When the waiter offered her a drink, she took it, downing the champagne in one shot and grabbing a second for courage.

      By the time she reached the hallway on the other side, she was giddy and overly warm, and she had collected three men’s phone numbers—not that she planned on using them, but still … Maybe she’d crash costume parties more often.

      Peeking around to make sure she wasn’t seen slipping away, she made her way down the hall and spotted the large double doors that led to the office. Turning the knob, she found the doors were locked, as she expected. Of course her life would never be that easy.

      However, Tracy had described a second entrance, off of another hallway—one that only Mason used. Maybe it wasn’t locked, since no one would be in that part of the house.

      Exploring some of the pathways off the main hall, she began to get frustrated and worried—how many rooms did this place have? Finally, she saw a small door at the bottom of a set of narrow stairs, and tried that. Voila! It opened, and inside the office sprawled before her.

      She might have walked onto the set of a TV legal drama, the set was so classic. Bookcases on every side, lots of leather and a huge desk dominating the center of the room. Several deep, comfortable chairs were placed by the bookshelves and there was a huge grandfather clock in one corner. She wondered if Mason was a traditional guy, or if this was just his professional persona. The way he’d watched her earlier certainly hadn’t been in the least bit staid.

      “Okay … so, he must have files, and the pictures would probably be in the files,” she reasoned out loud, heading to several large, wooden file cabinets behind the desk.

      “Well, this is a mess—he doesn’t file alphabetically! What the hell?” she cursed under her breath—there was definitely some kind of order to the files, but apparently it was one that only made sense to Mason. How was she supposed to search through all of these for Tracy’s file without knowing how his system worked?

      “Dammit!” she cursed again, unsure she was going to be able to save the day for her little sister this time.

      Her СКАЧАТЬ