Текст книги "Take Me"
Автор книги: T. A. Grey
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
She spun around, snatched her briefcase off the floor, and raced down the steps to his mother. “Mrs. Blackmoore I am very sorry about the confusion.”
The older woman grabbed her gently by the arm and steered her towards the door. “No, my dear, it looks like it was my fault. Please forgive me and my son’s behavior. Things have been strained around here as of late...”
Felicity listened to the woman’s voice but only partially paid attention because the whole time she could feel his eyes boring into her back.
Dominic had just made a fatal mistake treating her that way. He’d made her an enemy, and she knew how to fight tough.
Chapter 4
Felicity didn’t wake up the next morning so much as spring out of bed. For the first time in a long time she felt vigor blasting through her blood making her feel younger and more alive. All because of last night and one Mr. Dominic Blackmoore.
After her messed up evening last night, Mrs. Blackmoore promised to interview her tonight to see if she’d be the right planner for the “mating ceremony of the century.” Those were Mrs. Blackmoore’s words not hers. However after it was obvious Mrs. Blackmoore was bating time to end the interview to send Felicity packing, Felicity knew she had to get serious. So she’d pulled out the big guns, her bazookas. It wasn’t anything she’d ever done in her whole life, but it’d been worth it.
When Mrs. Blackmoore had been about to usher Felicity out the door without so much as a “we’ll call you if we’re interested” Felicity had spun around with a threat. If she didn’t get a fair interview then she’d go to the media. She’d tell her story about Dominic Blackmoore to anyone with an ear. It was incredibly unfair and she didn’t know if she could really ever go through with something like that, but the threat at worked. She blamed her horrendous behavior on the vow she made to Dominic. She would get this job. No matter what.
This led Felicity to have a few questions: what happened to Dominic’s previous bruid because he did have one, and why was there such a rush for him to find another one when he didn’t seem to want one? Felicity had read in V-Society that their separation only happened about two months ago. Seemed pretty fast to be taking on another bruid.
Dominic Blackmoore had mistaken Felicity for the gorgeous blue-blooded socialite Julianna Greenwich. Julianna was everything Felicity wasn’t. She was lovely, ultra-feminine with perfect skin, hair, and nails. She always wore the best and most expensive clothes. The paparazzi loved to follow her around.
Felicity’s cheeks burned to admit it, but she even had the celebrity magazines that followed people like Julianna in her nightstand. She loved reading the little captions on what designer made Julianna’s dress. What she loved even more was seeing the jaw-dropping prices. Always jaw dropping. A $4,500 designer custom-made gown with $25,000 diamond earrings paired with a real pearl necklace and shoes that cost another $2,000. All of that to go see a movie on a Wednesday night.
Felicity couldn’t even make a story like that up if she tried. She’d read about that exact story when Julianna Greenwich rented out a theater so her and a few friends could see some chick flick when it came out. Disgusting.
Just the thought filled her heart with a heavy knot. A knot that didn’t immediately go away; it didn’t go away at all and apparently didn’t plan to. She recognized the heavy feeling for what it was—pain mixed with burning jealousy.
Jealousy that Julianna had been born into a world Felicity had always craved being in and pain that Dominic had looked at her with such need. Need like he’d been waiting for her his whole life. Like it’d taken every ounce of strength in his virile body not to touch her how he wanted to.
But he hadn’t really been looking at her like that. No, no. He’d been looking at Julianna Greenwich like that, or so he’d thought.
The whole situation was ridiculous. She knew that. She couldn’t possibly have feelings for someone she’d just met and especially not to someone who’d turned around and gave her the coldest cold shoulder she’d ever received. The way he turned on her like that...it’d felt like he’d punched her in the gut after lulling her away from her nervous smiles.
That painful knot in her chest pounded and she rubbed her hand across it, wincing. Yeah, that little bit of time they’d spent together had changed something. Something had happened. Because the thought of the infamous Julianna Greenwich, society’s favorite fashion model, mating to the dark and passionate Dominic Blackmoore just didn’t seem fair.
It brought forth a mixture of feelings inside Felicity she’d never experienced before and might never again. And she planned to do something about it.
Felicity went to the kitchen and phoned her friend Beth. Beth was born mortal but had the unstoppable energy of a were and the elegance of a vampire.
Beth answered on the fifth ring. “What do you want, Fel?” The sound of rock music and a deep male voice singing played in the background but was turned down.
“Okay, listen up.” Felicity relayed all that had happened and informed her good friend to get her butt over to her house pronto. She hung up the phone a minute later smiling. This is why it rocked to have a friend like Beth. Beth might be mortal but she loved Felicity unconditionally and they’d do anything for each other. Even drop what they were doing to rush over and chat girl business.
Felicity fed Hugo, straightened the messy clothes in her bedroom, and then jumped in the shower and actually conditioned her hair this time. Her second scheduled interview wasn’t until ten tonight so she had a few hours to prepare this time, and boy was it on. Dominic Blackmoore had declared war on her the second he set his awful accusations her way. She was getting this job.
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.
A low growl snapped through the room.
Felicity jerked her gaze to Dominic’s just as everyone else in the room did. Had he really just growled? His eyes stared challengingly into hers—daring her to keep his gaze. That the same level of passion she’d witnessed yesterday still flickered there. The light gold around his eyes flared like a pulse and Felicity felt an answering pulse between her thighs. He might have been nasty to her yesterday but he still wanted her. That fact shocked her more than if he had walked up to her and informed her he was leaving his estate and bank accounts to her, then vanish in a puff of mysterious smoke.
Of course that didn’t happen.
But he did look at her like he wanted her naked, in his lap, right now. And boy did she want to be.
Vampire eyes shifted when aroused, but the older the vampire the more control they had to mask such a reaction. Either Dominic wasn’t as old as she’d heard or he’d really just had a flash of arousal blaze in his eyes.
“Ms. Shaw, won’t you please take a seat?” his mother asked with a polite smile and watchful eyes. Her voice cut the tension in the room like a hot knife through warm butter.
Juliana seemed oblivious to the whole deal, while his mother looked far more cunning with her clever golden brown eyes.
Felicity managed to walk to her seat across from the two Blackmoores and the lovely Juliana Greenwich without tripping and falling on her face. Score one for her.
Juliana looked much, much more beautiful in person than she did in magazines. Felicity could probably stare at her all day trying to figure out how she could arrest one’s gaze like she did. She had a thin, pert nose with lovely hollowed cheekbones, a gently pointed chin, light brown eyebrows, and a stunning pair of blue eyes. The color was so light it looked like a cloudless sky. Her eyes were lined by heavy dark brown lashes that only brought out the color and provided a lovely contrast to her light blonde hair. And she even had perfectly shaped lips with two peaks on top and a perfect bow on the bottom. Her hair was lush—a beautiful golden yellow like the perfect strand of wheat. It shined in the light and rested in curling waves down to her waist. Yes, down to her waist!
The paparazzi followed her for a reason and not because she had more money than the Monopoly guy, but because of how she looked. She looked perfect, and that was only her face. Her body matched her face in its stunning loveliness. Tall, elegant, refined, and with more class than Jackie-O, Julianna made lovely pictures. Pictures the rest of society without as much money and good looks stared longingly at and pretended to hate.
Really it wasn’t fair to the rest of the women in the world to have to compare to women like Julianna Greenwich. Not fair at all.
In fact, Felicity decided she might just hate her.
“Thank you for joining us tonight. I’m looking forward to hearing about your previous work experience and seeing some of your designs,” his mother said with a smile. She had the kind of polite smile that had been refined through years of having political friends and throwing strategic parties. Felicity suspected Lady Blackmoore was a master at hiding her true feelings.
A moment later, a soft knock sounded at the door and Ian shuffled in carrying a silver tray with a crystal decanter and four glasses. Felicity watched the blood-filled decanter with longing, her tongue watering. She hadn’t fed that morning because she was out of blood again, but she hoped to rectify that problem tonight. She’d get this job, get paid upfront, and buy some of her favorite blood—AB. Lots of it. Maybe she’d even buy crates of it she could stack up in her spare bedroom for safekeeping.
Felicity watched Lady Blackmoore sit at the edge of her seat as she efficiently poured four glasses of blood. She filled each of the glasses so that the blood stopped at exactly a quarter inch from the rim. The entire time Felicity watched Lady Blackmoore’s elegant movements, she could feel his eyes on her. She didn’t need to shift her gaze to know it was him. No one could look at her and make her feel heat from just looking. No one except Dominic Blackmoore.
Lady Blackmoore passed the crystal glasses one at a time and as Felicity took hers, her eyes betrayed her and swept to Dominic. What she saw made her freeze, made her gut clench, and her body respond in a flush of wet heat.
His low-hooded eyes were fixed on her with a burning fire of their own. Only this time it wasn’t in anger. It was pure sex. A look that said he was visually fucking her with his imagination right now. He snagged the glass from his mother, his eyes never leaving hers, and he brought it to his full sexy mouth and drank from it without ever taking his eyes off her.
They might as well be the only ones in the room. The air was so thick it felt like fog covered them. A sensual fragrance filled the air—musky, sweet, and raw. Dominic’s nostrils flared as he inhaled the same fragrance she did. His eyes closed in an expression she could only describe as pained ecstasy before they flung open to devour her.
Felicity jerked her gaze away, a bright red flush coating her cheeks. The blush shamed her even more because she didn’t know whether it was from his look or because his mother shot them both a cowing glance.
Felicity forced herself to pull her gaze away. She was supposed to be torturing him not the other way around and as it stood right now, the memory of this night and the palpable intensity in the room would never be forgotten.
“I’ve heard you have quite the eye for refined, large parties,” Lady Blackmoore said.
Felicity’s eyes wanted so badly to pull back to Dominic. To see what he was thinking and to see if he was still staring at her. A niggling doubt sprung. What if this was all some joke on his part? After all, his bruid was sitting in the same room as them. This could all be faked, his way to toy with her after their encounter yesterday.
“Yes, I do. Call it natural talent.” Felicity pulled her résumé out of her portfolio’s case and slid it across the dark mahogany table separating them. Lady Blackmoore took it and began reading. A thin black eyebrow rose in surprise.
“You’ve worked with a quite a few high-list names. I wonder if I’ve attended any of these events. When was the last event you organized?”
Felicity froze, but then quickly forced a smile. Sure she’d been lying on her résumé for nearly a year but she’d never had an interview to discuss those lies. Of course Lady Blackmoore would know some of the high-list names she’d forged on the resume. What if Lady Blackmoore called them and verified that Felicity was nothing but a fraud? Panic grew like a wild weed but before it could take over she shoved it aside with a brutal hand. She leaned forward in her seat, determined to see the lies on her résumé through until she had this job in the bag.
The shawl fell down her arms and she felt heat burning the bare skin at her shoulder. A shiver raced down her arms as she pulled out the sample images from her portfolio and laid those around the table.
She answered by dodging the question. “That’s quite possible, Lady Blackmoore. I assure you I am capable of doing anything you want. All you have to do is tell me the general idea of what you’d like to have. For instance, at this particular event,” Felicity said, pointing to the image in the middle. “I designed everything you see here from the custom art work on the walls to the dancers hired to perform at the beginning of the night.”
The picture was of the beautiful ballroom in Godsfreade manor in Pennsylvania. She’d never actually been there but socialites used the room for major events all the time. It had a beautiful marble staircase that could easily fit twenty people straight across it. The entire room was made out in dark wooden beams etched with hand carved designs of doves and tulips. A glorious golden chandelier lit the room in a spectacular fashion and wall sconces, much dimmer in light, shadowed the walls. The ballroom easily held five hundred people at maximum capacity, and if the backdoors were opened which led to the award-winning Victorian-style gardens, then you could fit close to seven hundred.
In this picture, Felicity had designed round tables where black wooden chairs with a dark violet upholstering could sit up to six people. The tabletops were some of her best work. Atop them were the place settings with real silver dining ware. The name cards were made of heavy linen paper and embossed with heavy violet ink in an elegant cursive script. Wine glasses and water glasses sat behind the plates. Heavy linen napkins were rolled and wrapped in a lilac colored ribbon. A miniature vase with a single light purple lilac sat by each setting and in the center of the table was a large centerpiece of glass and crystal with six tall white candles lit. And below them were a bushel of lilacs and lilacs mixed with daisies.
It was a fantasy wedding, or so Felicity had made up. The colors she’d envisioned were white and lilac, with the deep violet from the chairs, the delicate purple flowers, and the white tablecloth, the colors made one heck of a sight.
If only it was real.
“And whose wedding was this?”
Felicity wracked her mind for a name and came up with the name of her last real client from a year ago. She’d been hired by a local barbeque restaurant to throw an annual company party. The man who’d hired her was Spencer Terry.
“The wedding was for Spencer Terry and his wife Terri.”
Lady Blackmoore’s thin eyebrow arched. “They both have the name Terry?”
Shit. Felicity quickly tried to fix her poor lie. “Um, yes actually. His last name is Terry and her face name is Terri but with an ‘i’. Odd, I know.” She laughed a little.
