Page 27 of Hot Irish Halloween

That drew a scowl from him. Familiar ground, at least.

“They’re not fakes. What do you take me for?”

He tipped the pouch again, and this time, a necklace spilled into his hand. The pearls shone lustrous in the firelight, and Penny’s lips parted.

“Wow. These are loaners, I’m assuming. I’ll give them back after —”

“Not loaners. They’re yours. They don’t take back used jewelry, fake or not,” he said.

Her eyes flew to his face while his gaze ran over hers, as if gauging her response. “This is too much. The dress, the shoes, now this… you’re supposed to begettingmoney here, not spending it.”

“I can spend my money however I want. Mind your business. Now, hold still.”

He circled her again to put the choker on her neck. She was grateful he did so he wouldn’t see her shock and gratitude and anger that his thoughtfulness and generosity might make her cave. How was she supposed to stay mad when he was being so fucking sweet? And God, how could she stay angry when his thick, hot fingers traced the bared line of her shoulders in that gentle caress?

“Thank you. Now for the shoes, and we can get going.” She hardly spared him a glance before going to get her new shoes from their box.

“Let me,” Jack said thickly, staring down at the half-globes of her breasts rising above the neckline of the gown. He reached for her shoes.

It would serve him right if she ignored him but the tone in his voice and the throbbing tension in the room arrested her. Sitting on the divan, Penny handed him the shoes without a word and waited. Jack lowered himself to one knee and cradled her foot in his large hands while slowly slipping on the sky-blue heel. He did the same to the other, his head bent so she couldn’t see his face, only the workings of his muscles under the black silk shirt.

When he was done with the second shoe, he slid his hand up her leg, grazing her ankle with his hot fingers and wrapping them around her calf. They burned against her flesh even through her stockings. His hand inched higher to her knee, then paused. It was as though he was struggling, deciding if he should risk going further.

“I’m Briar Rose, Jack, not Cinderella,” Penny reminded him. She’d meant to sound smart-mouthed, but her voice failed her, sounding shaken instead.

His was like gravel. “And I’m not Prince Charming. There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize you, with or without a mask. No matter how you change, wherever you go in this world, I would know you. And I’d follow.” Then he took his hand away, depriving herof his touch, which she suddenly, desperately, wanted on her body again. He reached into the pocket of his dark gray vest and pulled out two rings, a large, plain platinum band, and a smaller circle of platinum and diamonds. Penny was no expert on jewelry, but since Jack seemed insulted when she’d suggested the pearls weren’t real, these rings had to be real, too. “To complete the Mr. and Mrs. Valentine costumes.”

Jack handed her the plain platinum band, not looking at her but at his own hand expectantly. Taking a deep breath, commanding herself to play along and pretend, willing herself to remember none of this was real, she pushed it onto his ring finger. When it was his turn to put the band on her finger, Jack did so carefully, holding her hand like it was made of something delicate. Then he looked up suddenly into her eyes and she was stunned by the gleam in his. There was victory in those hazel eyes. Like he’d won the hardest-fought battle of his life.

He reached up and kissed her, tender at first, then rough, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She wasn’t supposed to let this happen, but there she was, kissing him back, her hands in his hair combed neatly for the party. She was going to fucking ruin that neat hair, and he didn’t seem to care. He ran his hands back up her leg, this time not stopping at the knee, but skimming her thighs, pushing the skirt of the dress up to her waist.

“Maybe we —” she started to say, but her voice was snatched away when Jack bent down and pressed a hot kiss on her clit through her black satin panties.

Jack inhaled the scent of her arousal and closed his eyes with a murmur. Then he went back in to kiss that spot again, then put his mouth on it, creating a wicked little wet spot. Penny tried to hold in her moans as the sound of the other revelers passing down the hallway came through the heavy door. But it was impossible not to gasp when Jack lifted her legs with the thigh-high tights and put them over his shoulders. Thank goodness forgarter belts because he was free and clear to hook the center of her panties with a finger and pull them aside to take a long, hard lick from her entrance to her clit.

“Oh …oh my God.Jack,” Penny moaned.

Her head fell back from the shocking pleasure of his tongue swirling around her clit. Bracing herself on her elbows, she looked down again at Jack’s head, the firelight picking up the glints of gold in his hair. The blackness of his shirt stood in contrast to the sensuous red velvet of the divan underneath them. From what she could see of his face, he was lust drunk. He added a finger to the delicious torture, sliding it in and out while he kept the pace with that deadly tongue on her bud.

“Right there…. rightthere…”

The sounds her pussy made gripping his finger were wet and loud. He removed it long enough to lap up her juices greedily, then slid it back in, humming with appreciation.

“You taste even better than I’d imagined,” he rasped. “You’re my wife now, Penny.Mine.”

His hoarse declaration snapped her back to her senses. This wasn’t acting anymore. Jack had meant it. And all at once, this felt wrong. All wrong.

Penny pushed his head away, forcing him to stop the movements of his tongue. His long, thick finger was still working her as he looked up to see what the problem was.

“Was I going too hard?” he asked, panting. “I’ll be more gentle.”

Before he could lower his face again, she said, “No. I don’t want you to do this. Please stop.”

And he did, immediately. Jack withdrew his finger, his face the picture of confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He sat back on his heels, wiping his chin with his hand.

What was wrong? Everything. She shouldn’t have let him get that far. She couldn’t give herself to this man, even though she wanted nothing more than to do exactly that.

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