Lovers Unmasked: The Complete Series Read online

  Contents

  Masquerade

  Rescuing Dawn

  Seducing Phoebe

  Trapped by Cupid

  Crimson Sneak Peek

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  Masquerade

  Nicole Flockton

  Avon, Massachusetts

  This edition published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

  www.crimsonromance.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Nicole Flockton

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-5745-4

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5745-3

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-5746-2

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5746-0

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © 123rf.com

  To Jason, for always encouraging me to follow my dreams.

  And to the WinkGirls, who’ve walked every step with me on this journey.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Acknowledgments

  To the Latrop Girls — Christine, Chelle, Jenn, Tara, Karen, Rae and Dee, without the fun we had together I don’t think I would’ve started writing. Also to the GalPals who’ve been there for me and for being my cheer squad.

  To Lesley, Shona, Donna, Heather, Kym and Cath a.k.a. Wink, you know I wouldn’t have got this far if you hadn’t read every word I wrote. You helped me to improve as a writer and encouraged me to keep going.

  Big thanks to my friend Sophie Treffry for letting me use her name and occupation for this story.

  Shana Galen, Sophie Jordan and Vicky Dreiling, thanks for the lunches when I was feeling down. I’m truly lucky to have you as friends.

  Kat, my web designer goddess, thank you for my beautiful site and always, always answering my requests.

  I have to thank my fabulous editor and the team at Crimson Romance for making this dream a reality — thank you for believing in Sophie and Alex’s story.

  To my family back in Australia, I love you and miss you, thank you for your love and unending support.

  A big thanks to my new readers for traveling on this road with me.

  Finally, to the man who is my personal hero, Jason, your love and belief in me helped me get here. And to my two wonderful children, thanks for screaming with me the day I sold this book.

  Chapter 1

  Sophie adjusted her feathered mask, smoothed down her dress, and took a deep breath before pressing the button that would whisk her into a world she tried hard to avoid.

  The doors whispered open and an empty cart greeted her. She was glad. She needed a few more minutes of peace. A few moments to cool down before being caught up in the vortex of New Year’s Eve celebrations.

  As she stepped in, the mirrored back wall reflected an elegant vision in silver. The woman in the mirror looked in total control of herself.

  Looks could be deceiving.

  The last thing she felt was calm and in control. Her father backing out of attending this function at the last minute annoyed her immensely. It was clear his latest lover wanted to hail in the New Year at some trendy nightclub, not a boring annual hospital fundraiser at Perth’s premier Casino Complex. An event that was extremely important to Sophie, his only daughter. But her father always pushed her feelings aside. At least she had friends attending. She could spend the night celebrating with them. It didn’t matter that she was now arriving alone.

  Pressing the little white disk, illuminating the floor number she required, she waited as the doors closed.

  She was preparing for yet another year without a memorable New Year’s Eve kiss. When she’d confirmed her attendance, she had been engaged.

  Now she was single.

  She had no time to worry about her single status anymore as the doors opened and the buzz from the people congregating in the foyer reached her.

  Sophie glanced around, excitement filling her. She loved New Year’s Eve. Tonight, all the guests were in masks. It was difficult to recognize anyone, and she should know quite a few of the guests. The mysteriousness added to the excitement.

  She plucked a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, and took a fortifying sip. As she continued looking around the foyer, she noticed the pictures of the children the ball was raising funds for. Their laughing smiles, in the face of their illness, made her feel selfish for her earlier thoughts. These kids faced trials every single day and here she was, worried about her father ignoring her.

  “Wow, Sophie, you look fabulous. The description you gave of your dress was way off.”

  She whirled around at the sound of her best friend’s voice, glad Phoebe had somehow found her. Sophie leaned in to give her friend a slight hug. Phoebe looked gorgeous in her red dress. Red was proving to be a popular color among the female guests. Sophie was glad her dress was silver. She’d briefly played with the idea of not wearing it. But it had winked out at her, enticing and pulling her under its spell.

  “Thanks, I really needed to hear that.”

  Behind the mask, she could see Phoebe’s eyes fill with sympathy. “I know tonight is probably going to be tough, but you’re better off without that loser hanging off your arm.” Phoebe flung her hand with a flourish of twists. “The room is littered with eligible bachelors. Hook up with one, even if it’s only for the required New Year’s Eve kiss.”

  “I’ve sworn off men for the time being. My career is going to be my focus now,” Sophie said as she ran her eyes over the mingling guests. Trying to imagine what some of the men looked like behind their masks. All men looked handsome in evening dress. The mysterious allure of what lay behind the mask only added to the ambience of the evening.

  She was about to turn her attention back to Phoebe when someone walked into the room. Their eyes met and Sophie caught her breath. She was too far away to see the color of his eyes, but he had an undeniable presence that called to her in the most basic of manners. She wanted to answer the call, but after what she’d been through the last few weeks, she had to protect herself. She pulled her gaze away from his. It was likely she wouldn’t encounter him again that evening. Besides, he was probably with someone. Still Phoebe’s words ran around her mind, like a mouse running around a tumbling wheel.

  Could she hook up with a stranger? Just for a midnight kiss? As tempting as it was, after her recent appearances in the tabloids, it would be wiser not to give in to the temptation of a masked man dressed to kill in a tuxedo.

  “That’d look good in the gossip papers. It’s the last thing I need. It was pleasant to read the paper today and not see my and Neil’s names and our broken engagement mentioned.”

  Concern laced her friend’s
voice as she asked. “You are over him, aren’t you?”

  Sophie took a sip of her champagne, the bubbles tickling her throat on the way down, and thought again about Phoebe’s question. She loved her friend dearly, but sometimes her insightful questions bothered her.

  Was she truly over Neil? Had she even been in love with her ex-fiancé? A resounding no echoed through her mind. She’d been in love with an illusion. The real Neil was the man she’d found with his face buried in his secretary’s bountiful chest. The man whose actions had made her remove her rose-colored glasses. The man who’d been the hospital’s CEO, and her boss. She was so glad he’d taken up a new position at another hospital and she would never have to see him again.

  “Sophie?”

  She gave herself a mental shake, firmly putting all thoughts of Neil and their ill-fated engagement out of her mind. Neil didn’t warrant her time or energy anymore.

  “I’m well and truly over him.” She linked her arm through Phoebe’s. “Let’s make this a night to remember.”

  “You’re on.” They touched their glasses. “I heard the new director of emergency could be here tonight.”

  Sophie laughed as she looked around the room once again. “And just how are we going to tell which one of these masked men is the man in question?”

  “You have a point. Guess we’ll just have to be on our best behavior.”

  The announcement for everyone to make their way into the ballroom sounded. She waited a few moments until the crowd lessened before searching for her name on the seating chart. She rolled her eyes when she saw the organizers had seated her at one of the main tables.

  For once, she just wished she could go to a hospital function as herself, Sophie Franklyn, emergency nurse. Not Sophie Franklyn — the one and only daughter of property tycoon Richard Franklyn. She was sick of being referred to as “the princess playing at being a nurse”.

  She made her way to the table, weaving her way past people who’d spared no expense with outfits or visiting the high-class jewelry stores around the city. Women’s masks and necks glittered. Jewels sparkled, dresses shone and shimmered under the glow of the chandeliers. She reached her table and found she was the first to arrive. No doubt everyone else wanted to make a late but grand entrance.

  She sat down and waited for the rest of the guests to seat themselves, wondering where the guest she’d seen earlier was seated.

  “Good evening, may I take this seat?”

  Sophie turned her head to the sound of the warm masculine voice as it washed over her skin. A slight accent colored his words. It took all her willpower not to let her jaw drop open. Standing next to her, looking too good to be true, was the guest she’d locked eyes with earlier. Sophie didn’t know how she was so certain it was the elusive guest, she just did. The unbidden thought that maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad after all flittered across her subconscious.

  She nodded her acquiescence and he seated himself next to her. Behind the plain strip of black, which emphasized his presence more than a highly decorated mask, she was able to make out his eyes, which were a dark chocolate brown.

  Sophie tried to recall the names of the other guests due to sit at the table, but her mind was drawing a blank. Aware that she was still staring at him, her manners kicked in and she smiled, holding out her hand in greeting. “Hi,” her voice squeaked out and she swallowed quickly. “I’m Sophie Franklyn.” This time she sounded like herself.

  He took her pale hand in his darker one. A tingle of electricity zigzagged its way up her arm at the contact. The sensation quickly intensified to high voltage as he gallantly placed a kiss on the top of her hand. His lips were warm and soft on her skin and his eyes bored directly into hers, holding her captive once again.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sophie. I am Alessandro Scavoni, but everybody calls me Alex.”

  Masculine and strong and commanding, the name suited him. She could now also identify his accent — Italian.

  He was still holding her hand when the person taking the seat on the other side of her knocked her chair. It broke the spell that had woven itself around them. He relinquished his hold, but her hand still throbbed as the table filled with the remaining guests. The urge to cradle her hand to ease the sensation was strong, but she battled it down.

  Most of the people seated were associates of her father, now she knew why she’d been placed on the table. Damn her father and his business. Even when he wasn’t there, he was trying to ram it down her throat at every opportunity, reminding her of what she’d turned her back on, and what had provided the trust fund she rarely touched.

  The anger she had pushed aside earlier was back. It simmered and bubbled away as the emcee made the formal introductions of the important dignitaries, including her.

  Open up, earth, and swallow me now.

  As the spotlight shone down on her all she could think was so much for being anonymous behind her mask. She and the other guests who were introduced may as well have arrived without masks.

  The emcee wound up his introductions and a string quartet started to play some soft background music as the entrée was served.

  She pierced a king prawn with more force than was necessary.

  “I take it the entrée isn’t to your liking?” Humor laced the softly spoken words.

  “It’s fine.”

  She was still fuming from the position her father had put her in and really didn’t feel like being polite, but the social skills her mother had drummed into her screamed loudly in her ear. She placed her fork down and swiveled slightly in her chair, her shoulder brushing Alex’s fine wool jacket.

  “I apologize, Mr. Scavoni, that was rather rude of me. The entrée is delicious, but I’d really prefer to be seated somewhere less, I don’t know, less pretentious.”

  She watched as he glanced around the table at the other occupants. She was sure he must know the connection between them and her after the welcoming speech.

  No matter how much she wanted to be a regular guest, out to enjoy an evening of fine food and dancing, it would never happen. She would always be the only daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Australia.

  Her life was not her own.

  “Honesty is good and I can understand why you would want to be seated with another group of people.” He leaned closer to her ear, his warm breath lifting the fine hair on her neck. “I mean, who would want to be seated at the same table as Cruella de Vil?”

  She choked on her prawn and had to reach for her glass of water to stop her coughing fit. She knew exactly who he was talking about and his description was extremely apt. The society doyenne was well known for her demanding ways. Sophie had learned to deal with her and her many challenging requests at parties over the years.

  “You should laugh more often. Life’s too short to be damning the weird quirks of fate.” A small amount of steel crept into his voice as he continued. “We may not choose our family, but it’s our duty to represent them in a suitable manner. No matter how much we don’t want to.”

  Had he just reprimanded her? She’d just met the man and he was telling her off?

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me and you understand exactly what I’m saying. Believe me, you’re not the only person who curses their family on occasions.”

  His last comment gave her an insight she wasn’t sure he meant to do. Did he feel the burden of family responsibilities like she did? Still, he didn’t know her circumstances so he had no right to speak to her as if she was a recalcitrant child.

  “Don’t make assumptions, Mr. Scavoni, you don’t know me or my circumstances.”

  “Alex. Mr. Scavoni is my father. I’m not judging. I’m merely making a general observation.”

  General observation my foot, she thought. He was making a judgment and she didn’t like it one bi
t. She could tick him off her list of prospective New Year’s Eve kiss participants.

  “Well, I don’t think that’s the case, but we’ll just have to agree to disagree, won’t we?”

  She leaned back in her chair to allow the waiter to remove her plate. She glanced over to where her work colleagues were seated. Tendrils of laughter coming from the table reached out to her, like an offshoot from a clinging vine stretching out to the sun. How she wished she could join them. However, until the meal had been completed she was stuck with judgmental Alex Scavoni and Cruella de Vil. Some New Year’s Eve this was turning out to be. But she didn’t have to talk to him all night. She turned and started a conversation with the man seated on her other side.

  Throughout the rest of the meal, she valiantly tried to ignore Alex, but she was aware of his every move. Each time he shifted in his chair, the fine material from his evening suit brushed her exposed leg, sending gooseflesh shooting out over her skin. His laughter resonated deep in her soul, tempting her to find out what had caused such carefree laughter. Her internal radar had narrowed in on Alex, and wasn’t changing direction anytime soon.

  She wondered whether he felt it, too. Felt the invisible thread growing between them, as fine as the silky strands of a spider’s delicate web. Beautiful, but dangerous if you got caught in them.

  She stole a look at him from beneath her lashes; he was engaged in a conversation with an associate of her father’s. As if sensing her appraisal, he turned slightly and caught her out. His only acknowledgement was a raised eyebrow before continuing his conversation about the current real estate climate.

  Her breath whooshed out of her as heat flooded her cheeks; the temptation to roll her water glass over her flushed face in an attempt to cool herself down was high.

  What would he look like without the mask, she mused? It only hid his eyes but because of that you were drawn to the intensity emanating from them. His jaw-line was strong and well defined. Was he the same underneath that suit, all muscle and sinew? What would it feel like to be wrapped up in those strong arms?