Page 72 of Inferno
Chapter 18
Coronado’s annual fireman’s ball was held at the historic Oxford Hotel in downtown Denver. Proceeds from the gala went toward funding scholarships at local high schools, sponsoring Little League teams and purchasing new equipment for the area firehouses.
That Saturday evening, the hotel’s grand ballroom had been transformed into a winter wonderland. The floor was covered with white carpeting, a canopy of paper snowflakes and twinkling lights hung from the ceiling, and silver tree branches festooned with icicles and glass votive candles served as table centerpieces. As the elegantly dressed guests milled about, the live band serenaded them with Kool and the Gang’s “Celebration.”
Standing at the entrance to the ballroom, Prissy beamed with satisfaction as she surveyed the festive scene. As a member of the planning committee—which was composed mostly of other firefighters’ wives—she’d helped choose the theme for this year’s ball. Yesterday evening after work, she and the other women had carpooled to the hotel to decorate the ballroom, laughing and chatting companionably as they worked late into the night. Prissy was beyond pleased with the fruits of their labor.
“Everything looks absolutely beautiful, doesn’t it, Stan?”
“Definitely.You and the ladies did a wonderful job.” But Stan’s admiring gaze was onherinstead of the dazzling scenery. Leaning close to her, he murmured in her ear, “I can’t wait to get you home and out of that dress.”
Prissy blushed as a shiver of pleasure raced down her spine. She smiled demurely, giving him a look beneath her darkly mascaraed lashes. “We just got here, and you’re already talking about going home?”
“Hell, yeah,” he growled softly. “You would be too if you were seeing what I’m seeing.”
Prissy’s flesh heated as his dark, glittering gaze took another slow tour of her body. He’d been devouring her like that ever since she’d emerged from their bedroom in her evening gown—a white mermaid ensemble with a fitted bodice that accentuated her voluptuous curves before the skirt flared dramatically at the knees. To complete the glamorous look, she’d asked her stylist to arrange her hair into an elegant upsweep that showcased the sleek column of her throat and drew attention to the diamond choker she wore, which Stan had given to her for their fifteenth anniversary in August.
As she’d surveyed her reflection in the mirror, inspecting herself from every angle, she’d felt a deep sense of pride and satisfaction. After months of dieting and getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise, her hard work and discipline had paid off. She looked good, but more important, shefeltgood.
And that wasbeforeshe’d ventured out to the living room, where Stan and the boys had been reclining in front of the television. At Prissy’s appearance, Stan had gotten slowly to his feet, staring at her with an awestruck expression that reminded her of the way he’d looked at her on prom night and on their wedding day. As she’d turned in a circle to model her gown, the boys had whistled boisterously and showered her with compliments while Stan merely continued to stare. It was only when their sons began laughing and teasing him that he’d snapped out of his trance long enough to declare Prissy the most breathtakingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
She hadn’t stopped blushing since.
Of course,shewasn’t the only one who cleaned up nicely.
Stan was devastatingly handsome in his navy blue dress uniform, which was adorned with his rank insignia and the service medals he’d earned over the course of his career. As he stood beside Prissy—tall, dark and dashingly powerful—she had to fight the overwhelming urge to drag him somewhere private so she could peel off his uniform, layer by layer, like she wasunwrappinga decadent chocolate bar.
“You keep looking at me like that,” Stan warned huskily, “and we’ll be seeing no parts of this ball.”
Prissy smiled as her belly quivered. “Later,” she promised.
“You’d better believe it.” Stan winked at her, then tucked her arm through his and led her through the arched doorway.
The grand ballroom was filled with fire department employees and representatives, city officials, local businessmen, civic and union leaders, and people from all walks of the community who’d come out to have a good time while supporting worthy causes.
As Stan and Prissy began moving through the crowd, they were intercepted by their friends, Kelvin and Roxanne Wimbush.
As Stan and Kelvin exchanged brotherly handshakes, their wives hugged like they hadn’t just seen each other last night at the decorating party. As they drew apart, Roxanne swept an admiring glance over Prissy and Stan and exclaimed, “You two look like the belle and beau of the ball!”
Prissy laughed, cheeks flushing. “Oh, girl, hush.”
“I’m serious,” Roxanne insisted. “You both look stunning. And, girl, you are wearing thehellout of that gown. Isn’t she, Kel?”
“She certainly is,” her husband agreed, dark eyes glinting with frank male appreciation as he looked Prissy over.
Stan bumped him hard on the shoulder. “Watch it now.”
Kelvin, Roxanne and Prissy laughed.
The Wimbushes were the first couple Stan and Prissy had befriended when they moved to Coronado. They’d met them at the fire department’s Labor Day picnic, and had hit it off right away. Stan and Kelvin worked at the same fire station but on different shifts. The couple’s daughter was in Magnum’s fifth grade class while their son played on Mason’s football team. The two families often got together for dinner, cookouts and fun outings at amusement parks.
Kelvin was an attractive brown-skinned man with the sturdy, athletic build of a pro running back while Roxanne was plump and petite, with skin the color of caramel, a dimpled smile and a vivacious personality that always kept things lively.
For the ball that evening, all the firefighters’ wives had decided to wear white to complement their husbands’ navy blues. So Roxanne was elegantly attired in a flowing white gown that she’d accentuated with a spray of miniature white roses in her coiffed hair.
“You look beautiful,” Prissy told her.
Roxanne beamed. “Why, thank you, hon. I feel like a fairy princess in an enchanted wonderland.” Her brown eyes twinkled. “Ever since we got here, people have been coming up to me to rave about how spectacular the place looks, saying that this is the classiest fireman’s ball we’ve ever had. So I’ve been telling the other ladies that we ought to pat ourselves on the back.”
