Masque (16 page)

He hesitated at the head of the table, which was piled high
with Valerie’s notepads and catalogs. “Good morning.”

Valerie glared. “Well, it is morning.”

He continued around to sit across from them. “Nice to see
you too, Val.”

She stood and grabbed her coffee. “I’ll let Mrs. McMurray
know we have another guest for breakfast.”

Before Rena could delay her, Valerie left the room, leaving
her alone with Bryce. The familiar feeling of inadequacy surfaced, and she
struggled to tamp it down. It was only Bryce, her ex-fiancé.

Bryce steepled his fingers on the table, something he always
did when starting a meeting. She hated that habit.

“Rena, Rena, Rena. What are you trying to do here? This
place is a mausoleum. I’m surprised it isn’t crawling with ghosts. Do you
really think this town can support a bed-and-breakfast? You’ll close before the
season even begins.”

Oh God, he knew right where to hit. “I don’t think that will
be the case. We don’t have to be a huge success right out of the gate. We have
kept our renovation expenses low, so our income does not need to be too high in
the first year.” The last thing she wanted to tell him was that she was banking
on the ghosts to be the draw. He’d only laugh at her.

He glanced around the room. “You call this keeping your
expenses low?”

She shrugged, taking a sip of coffee to avoid answering him.
He didn’t need to know the elegant décor had been here before she arrived.

“I can see you have your heart set on making a go of this
place. I guess in your own way you are branching out.” He shuddered. “Let me
make you a proposition.”

Oh hell. She hated his propositions. He’d made them when
they were a couple, and she was always on the losing end.

He leaned his chin on one hand while the other tapped out
his conditions on the table. “You come back with me tomorrow and resume your
old job. I’ll even give you a ten-percent raise.” He punctuated that point with
a raising of his eyebrows. “In return, once the Harvest Ball is over, I will
set three of my best marketers to design materials, a website and a marketing
plan for you to help you get this baby off the ground. And if it doesn’t make
it, you will still have your job at Lloyd Enterprises. I promise.”

She expected to agree with him as was her habit, but this
time she saw through his offer of help. He would sabotage her efforts with
faulty marketing and she would be forced to make her living off his company.
Why hadn’t she noticed his pattern before? Because she assumed he loved her and
would help her. What an idiot she was.

Mrs. McMurray came in and brought them a pot of coffee.
After Bryce rejected her eggs and complained that there was no yogurt, he
agreed to try a scone. “So, what do you think, Rena? Do we have a deal?”

She sat back and pretended to contemplate his offer. She had
never denied him anything and she wanted to savor the moment. As she stalled,
she noticed other things about Bryce she hadn’t before. His skin, though
smooth, was a pasty white. His nostrils were too large for his nose, and his
hands were effeminate. Maybe being with Synn and his raw masculinity had
cleared her vision. She was thankful for the revelation. “You know what, Bryce?
I think I will have to turn down your kind offer.”

His cup rattled in its saucer as he sat up straight. “What?”

She grinned now, unable to suppress the feeling of freedom
coursing through her veins. “I said thanks, but no thanks. I’m good right where
I am.”

His face grew paler, if that was possible, and he reminded
her of a vampire, which suddenly seemed appropriate. “You can’t turn me down.
You need the money. Your savings has to be wiped out by now. I imagine you have
a loan on this place as well.” He sat back, his lips pursed together before he
continued, his disdain evident. “This bed-and-breakfast idea is a complete
joke. You’ll never make the money you need. I’m offering you an out.”

Damn him! He knew her weakness was her lack of confidence,
and he would exploit it if it helped his cause. Her triumph turned to a
familiar tightening of her stomach that had started over a year ago when he had
crushed her first new idea at the company in front of three coworkers. That
feeling had grown when he interrupted her at a gathering with his friends, as
if what she had to say was unimportant. That inadequacy finally overtook her as
he belittled her and undermined her in every aspect of her life.

She shoved her chair back and stood, trembling with anger,
finally not caring what he thought about her. “Bryce, I’m going to make this
abbey a success. I’m not returning to Lloyd Enterprises, ever. Even if this
were to fail, I wouldn’t go back there with people like you running the
business. I can see the potential in this place, and I know in my gut this is
going to succeed. It won’t be easy, but we can do it.”

Bryce stared, his mouth open before he crossed his legs and
took another sip of his coffee. “And who is going to help you? The local yokels
in town?”

His attitude had her grinding her nails into her palms to
refrain from smacking him. This was her home. The people in the town were her
neighbors and they had done nothing to deserve his slander. She gritted her
teeth. “I will do this with the help of Valerie, and Jamie, and Matt—”

“And me.” Synn walked in, his confidence transferring to her
raw nerves, soothing her edges. What was it about him that calmed her?

Bryce’s eyebrow rose. “Really?”

Rena smiled. Synn rarely made an appearance in the morning,
but today he had and was dressed in the height of Victorian fashion complete
with black tails, vest and coat. He carried a top hat in his hand and exuded
high aristocracy at its best. She could kiss him right now.

He flung his tails aside as he sat and crossed his own legs,
setting his hat on the table. “Really. And in fact, all of us locals here in
the Abbey have been helping because we want Rena to succeed. Isn’t that what
you want? Or rather what you used to want as her fiancé?”

Bryce flushed.

Why couldn’t she think like Synn and put Bryce in his place?
She resumed her seat and took a bite of scone to settle her stomach.

Synn brought her other hand to his lips and kissed the back.
“How did you sleep last night? I was concerned for you.”

The pleasant shiver that raced from her hand found a home in
her heart. This man from a century ago made her feel more important than the
one sitting across the table had for two years, and that one had told her he
loved her. Bastard.

She winked at Synn. “I slept like the dead. No need to
worry.”

He nodded solemnly, but his eyes twinkled with mischief.

Bryce had to interject. “If you are that worried about her,
you should tell her to come back to work. She is going to go bankrupt here and
then she’ll be out on the street. Unless, of course, her parents take her in.”
His final remark was so snide, she tightened her hold on Synn’s hand. He responded
by stroking her palm with his thumb.

He studied Bryce. “I don’t think so. After all, this
building alone is worth quite a bit of money.” He turned toward her. “I would
very much like to meet your parents. Do you think they would be interested in coming
for a visit?”

Her heart hit a double-time beat and she took the final sip
of coffee to stall for time. Did he truly want to meet her parents or was it a
show for Bryce? She wasn’t sure, and that bothered her. She wanted to know more
about him, outside the phenomenal sex. “I think we need to finish the Abbey
first, but once there is running hot water and electricity, I’m sure they would
love to come.” She looked at Bryce. “If I had known you were coming, I would
have warned you of our temporary living conditions here. I know how you hate to
rough it.” That was putting it mildly. The man thought a hotel room without a
living room and bar was roughing it.

Bryce finished his coffee and pushed the cup forward. “Any
chance I can have another cup, or does it have to be made over a fire?”

She couldn’t help squeezing Synn’s hand again as she tried
to control her irritation. “Yes, it does need to be made over a fire, but as
soon as the second pot is ready, Mrs. McMurray will bring it in.”

Bryce harrumphed before he turned his attention to Synn.
“Why are you dressed up today? Going to a Renaissance fair or something?”

That was it! Bryce could insult her all he wanted, but
disparaging the town, her friends and now Synn had her steaming. Before she
could get a word out, Synn spoke.

“No, I’m trying on my clothes for this evening’s
entertainment. There will be a Masque held here. It’s too bad you won’t be able
to stay and enjoy the festivities.”

She whipped her head around to face Synn and widened her
eyes at him. What was he thinking?

He ignored her and kept his gaze trained on Bryce, a tiny
smirk on his lips.

What was he doing? The idea of Bryce witnessing the sexual
exploits of the ghosts had her heart beating faster than the hooves of a
Preakness winner. “As you said, Bryce needs to get on the road. The Abbey is
too primitive for him and since I won’t go back to Lloyd Enterprises, he has no
reason to stay. Right, Bryce?”

Bryce didn’t look at her, his gaze locked with Synn’s.

Damn it. Some type of manly challenge was taking place and
she had no idea what it was. Panic started to set in. “Bryce?”

He stared at Synn. “Actually, I would love to attend this
Masque. It will be interesting to see what you are able to do for people with
such limited resources. I know you are a good event planner, Rena, but this
appears an impossible task. Is there a certain dress?”

Synn sat back and looked at her in pure triumph. “Yes, there
is, Victorian formal. I can have one of the footmen drop off appropriate
clothes for you, and of course your mask.”

She shook her head at him. They couldn’t have Bryce there.
He thought all sexual activity of an adventurous nature was plebian at best and
downright raunchy at the least. “Synn, I really don’t think Bryce will enjoy
the Masque. It’s not his thing.” Desperate, she looked at Bryce. “You would
find it slumming.”

How much clearer could she get?

He shook his head before crossing his arms behind his head.
“Don’t be absurd. How can formal Victorian dress be slumming? I think I can
stay one more evening to enjoy your party. Besides, it will give you time to
change your mind.”

She slapped her hand on the table. “Fine. Whatever.” She
stood, pulling her other hand from Synn’s warm one. “Now if you gentlemen will
excuse me, I have a bed-and-breakfast to plan.” As she strode from the room in
frustration, she heard Mrs. McMurray offering coffee to the men.

Crossing the entryway, she made her way through the rooms
until she reached the library. When she walked in, the spiral staircase caught
her eye and she flushed. What was Synn thinking inviting Bryce?

She sat at her desk and leaned on her elbows, her head in
her hands. She couldn’t go to the Masque tonight, not with Bryce there. She’d
finally begun to feel comfortable with her sexual curiosity, with Synn’s help.
She didn’t need to confirm for Bryce how far she had sunk, according to him.
She shouldn’t care what he thought now, and her brain didn’t, but there was
still that niggling doubt that maybe he was right.

She shook her head. No. The ghosts would have to enjoy the
Masque without her because there was no way on earth she would go into the
Violet Room with Bryce in attendance. No way.

* * * * *

Rena worried the deep-purple silk of the Victorian gown she
wore. She wasn’t exactly sure how Synn had convinced her to participate in the
Masque. He had promised her a life-changing experience, but whether that had
something to do with the sex or Bryce, he wouldn’t say. Both reasons enticed
her, so here she was, in the Violet Room, or game room, as it appeared at the moment.
Small gatherings of chairs and tables were arranged around the room for various
games to be played. Most had decks of cards on them, and Synn assured her poker
was common. Could it be something so simple after midnight as strip poker?

Was that why he had her face covered in the most elaborate
mask yet with peacock feathers brushing her temples? Maybe he expected to win
quickly by dressing her in the beautiful gown, but without any of the numerous
under-pieces that were worn beneath it. She had no chemise, so her breasts were
exposed almost to her nipple. She kept looking at them and seeing her areolas,
but Synn assured her it was only because of the angle she viewed them from.
When he placed her in front of her mirror, she had seen he was correct. But if
she breathed wrong, her nipples might pop out. Beneath the small hooped skirt,
she wore no bloomers, no panties, not even stockings. Lacing her bare feet into
the soft kid boots was strange, but not uncomfortable. Maybe this room was
about sex with clothes on.

As if on cue, the room changed. Once again walls spun, and a
bar was revealed, this one with bottles of liquor. A section of the floor
lifted to provide a large wooden cabinet with glass windows. As the movement of
the room stopped, she approached the cabinet. “Oh, my God.” Her breathy remark
was heard by no one, but it didn’t matter. She now knew what the game room
turned into after midnight. The Toy Room.

Owning very few sexual toys herself, she took advantage of
Synn’s absence to view the various implements. Many she’d never seen, but a few
were obvious, if antiquated. A number of dildos were on the lower shelf, but it
was doubtful they would vibrate. There were feathers, candles, and what looked
like old clip-on earrings. She looked at the next shelf above and found modern
vibrators. Did Synn go shopping? There were all types of vibrators, a
double-ended dildo, more earrings with a chain between them, which didn’t make
sense to her, and skinny dildos shaped with small bulbs spaced apart.