Daughter of a cleaner, pretending to be a rich socialite would be so funny, if it wasn't true.
Breaking free to escape out onto the balcony of one of the elitist hotels in Melbourne, Sara Williams breathed in deeply. It was good to have a break wondering how Cherry survived this. How did Cherry talk her into this farce? How did she in all honesty believe she could pretend to be an heiress to a fortune? Thank goodness for the mask, contact lenses, and a wig. She must have been mad or desperate. Desperate was the answer.
Five hundred for one performance. The night was nearly over. Her problems weren't. She had to find a job. A real job. She didn't want to work in hotels like her mother did. Cleaning up after other people's mess. She was better than that. Blinking back tears, Sara shifted closer to the balcony rail. Clasping the rail her hand as she took a deep breath, staring across the YarraRiver. The CBD on the other side.
"So, this is where you've disappeared to, Cherry," an English accented male voice came from behind her to stiffen. "You should've known better than leave your guests unattended." Briefly, she closed her eyes. What she had been dreading all night. Someone who might actually know Cherry would turn up and expose her for the fraud that she was. Placing a smile on her lips, she started to turn. Facing her worst nightmare. "Then again, I have to ask myself, who are you really?" She froze. Eyes widened behind the mask to look up into shrewd green eyes to blink as she stared at the owner of those incredible emerald-green eyes.
Although the dark mask covered most of his features, his magnificent bone structure couldn't be hidden. He was tall, towering over her 5'8, immaculately dressed
in a black tuxedo, hands in his pants pockets. His broad frame blocked her from the only exit. "You see, I know Cherry, and she looks nothing like you."
Softly she cursed, wishing now she hadn't gone for the tight, figure hugging, backless with dangling draped pearl beading ivory lace dress over white satin to the thighs that fishtail out to the floor. She should've known this couldn't possibly work. To be proven right. 'No-one knows me,' Cherry had promised her.
Sara lifted the glass of very expensive champagne that she had brought with her to her lips. She sipped as she gave him a long, and lingering once over. Taking in his dark - jet black hair, darker colouring of skin that had nothing to do with the sun. Middle Eastern she would hazard to guess at a pinch with a very strong British accent. Interesting. "How intriguing, sorry, I can't remember you at all," she noted softly, bluffing. It was all she had.
He closed the distance to stand at her side, removing his hands to grab the rail enjoying the views she had been viewing until he had come upon her, unexpectedly. "The dead giveaway is the red hair."
She blinked "It is?"
"Yes, you're not a natural redhead, Cherry is."
She arched a brow that was wasted behind the mask. "What? You're a colour expert? A hairdresser?" He shot her a hard glare, unimpressed. She bit back a smile to lean back on the balcony rail with her elbows. "No? You can pull at my hair to see it isn't a wig." she dared. It was. "Believe me, sir; I'm indeed Cherry Stafford of Stafford Industries."
His gaze caressed over her, melting her insides to liquid. He was deadly. "You do have her act down pat; however, she would never lean against a rail as you are. Instead, she would be pressing up hard against me, showing off her assets by now. And I don't mean money."
She couldn't help smiling, because she had seen Cherry in all those photos on the Internet, and her gorgeous companions, wondering if she had seen him. There had been a lot of very attractive men at Cherry's side at different functions. How could they even think they could actually pull this off? "I'm sure you don't. Please remind me again, where were we supposed to have met before?" She just had to keep bluffing, and wasn't ready to go back inside. To be honest, she was enjoying this. "By the way, I thought I would give the whole come on a break tonight."
"Pity, I would've liked it, if you had pressed up against me," he noted softly, causing her to catch her breath. No man had ever said that to her before. "What about all those people you have conned tonight?" he added softly, though his eyes were saying something different. She would be punished for playing her part in this farce. She looked at him confused. "They paid good money to meet and greet you. Yes, it's for a good cause, although, they did expect to mingle with Australian royalty, so to speak, not some upstart like you."
Upstart? Now that wasn't very nice. Australian royalty? Stunned, she straightened to walk away sipping from the glass. Cherry hadn't said anything about people paying to be in her company. It was supposed to be just a charity dinner. Her phone buzzed in her hidden dress pocket to retrieve and answered softly.
"Get out, you're about to be busted. A man I know is attending. He wasn't meant to be there. Flew in a few hours ago."
Really? Too late Cherry. "Who?" she whispered.
"It doesn't matter."
"Oh, I think it does. I need a name."
"Sayyid..."
Sara gasped as the phone was taken out of her hand to step back as he said. "Hello Cherry. Care to explain to me, what the hell is going on?!" Time to go. Sara spun around ready to make a quick exit. He caught her wrist to be tugged up against his tall, well developed hard male frame. She glanced up into furious green eyes. "You stay put," he said to her, then went back to speaking to Cherry.
Sara glanced at the glass in her other hand, nearly finished, then back at the man who held her tightly by the wrist. She could throw it at him, but why waste such good bubbly to toss the rest back in one go and placed it down on the nearby table. He didn't release her. She wanted this night to be over. "For tonight you will continual on with this sham at my side, after all, we are well acquainted."
Startled, she turned back to him, who had now shut down the phone to hold out for her to be taken and tucked away again. He still held her by the wrist that burned her skin, especially by his circling thumb that caressed her inner wrist. She gulped, pulses racing. "How close?" she asked, needing to know.
"Very."
She nodded, understanding. No big surprise there. "I'm surprised you would have anything to do with her......me," she changed, because she had to stay in character. After all, she was Cherry Stafford. Not that she wanted to be, because she didn't. And the fact, he hadn't sounded thrilled as he talked to Cherry in his dark, deep voice that caressed over her in a teasing manner that had warmed her all over.
"Let's just say it was a necessary of two evils." Her eyes widened and looked at him curious. Interesting. So it wasn't a pleasant reunion. Cherry had sounded panicked.
"So what's the other evil?" she asked curious.
"The usual sweetheart as you should know," she arched a brow then sighed. The mask was a double edged sword. It also protected her from his all too seeing eyes. "Money."
"A necessary evil," she agreed. "So you chose me over money. How nice," she smiled. "Or was it because of my money?" she added as an afterthought. That was one thing about being rich; one could never really be sure why people befriended you. Something she had no fear of. She was broke. Flat broke. The only reason she had agreed to this madness. So here she was, held against her will by the most devastating, dashing, mystery man she knew only as Sayyid. Sayyid who? Where had he come from? Apart from the UK, a given.
"Well, not quite you did I?" he pointed out, though kept her close to him. "Shall we?"
She sighed, dreading going back. "Do we have to?"
"If you want your money, then yes, or I'll expose you for the fraud that you are."
Her lips parted, pointing a finger at him. Then pressed it against her lips to drop. "What money?" she asked, innocently. "And that's not nice."
"And you're a fraud," he stated factually to sigh at her glare. "The amount she's paying you to play the part. Remember, I know her inside out. How she works, how she thinks, so how much?"
"Five."
"Impressive. Shall we? After all, it's only one performance."
"I wasn't planning on staying much longer. I do have a flight out tomorrow. An early one to England." Everyone knew that. It was public knowledge. A royal wedding. Cherry wanted to sneak in under the radar, incognito. Cherry was on her way while she paraded around like an heiress. Now, it seemed, she had an escort that could be in her favour.
"Sweetheart, you would be flying on my private jet as planned," he corrected. She shook her head because she wasn't, was she? Neither was Cherry. She kept that information to herself as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed. Holding her gaze, taking her off balance. His other hand dipped into a pocket and removed something to slip on her finger. "You might as well play the part properly." She blinked stunned, staring at the rock on her finger with a small rose diamond inside a heart shaped larger diamond of a bud pattern of diamonds, ring.
She gulped. "We're engaged?" she asked, stunned. "Oh, my, this is gorgeous." She bought it in closer to examine the detail.
"Not actually you, sweetheart," he reminded her gently.
"Oh, of course not," she laughed off. "Sorry, you've left me speechless." She spread out her hand to hold up. "I love your taste, it's magnificent. Cherry's one lucky lady," she smiled because she was truly happy for her. Then she turned to him to look him over. All button up so tightly. "Can I make one suggestion if we're doing this?"
"Doing what?" he asked, amused.
"You're a big fat fraud like me because you know the truth." She stepped closer to undo his tie and ripped off to shove in his jacket pocket. Released the first three buttons to open, exposing his throat and neck, stepping back to admire. "Now you have that sexy, hunky look that would have every lady wetting themselves and men envious. All that mysteriousness, and hotness, should keep me out of the picture," she nodded in agreement to herself hooking an arm through his to look up smiling. "Ready when you are."
"In a minute," he corrected, guiding her around to be in front of him. Before she could say a word or think or act he was kissing her. Teasing her lips apart with his tongue to dip in to kiss her with a passion that left her weak, clinging to his broad shoulders, breathless as he pulled away slowly taking her bottom lip with his teeth and tugged to have her moaning. Her insides all twisted up, and heat flowed through her core, leaving her wet and wanting. "Now you look the part." His arm firmly around her waist, he guided her out into the gathering where they were being carefully watched, knowing smiles as they passed to head to her table.
Whispers all around.
'So it is all true.'
'You know who that is?'
'They only marry their own kind.'
'They do make a marvellous couple.'
Sara learnt a long time ago to keep her ear to the ground, especially when looking for a job. She didn't realise he was a part of her job, but dammit, he could kiss. Hungering for more when she had no rights to. He belonged to Cherry. She was Cherry tonight and was going to play the part. After all, he was her fiancé and it would look strange, if she didn't touch, or kiss him.
He held out her chair to be taken and reached up with her hand, as his head lowered to hers, planting a kiss on her cheek. She caressed the side of his face where the mask allowed. The ring sparkled under the lights to have gasps at their table. Sayyid tilted her head back to plant a kiss on her soften lips, and then took a seat at her side. He lifted his hand to have instant attention to order champagne for the table to be shared.
He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. "Don't ever think you would be ignored sweetheart. You're a stunner, more beautiful than Cherry ever could be." Heat flooded her cheeks. No one had ever told her she was beautiful before. Probably to do with the dress. She had never worn anything so expensive, or as daring as this one. He smiled, running a hand down her bare back, under the beading. "This does look so much better on you," he added, as if reading her mind. "Shall we dance?" She nodded to stand to take his offered hand and led to the provided dance floor. He swung her into his arms, held against him. His hand on the small of her bare back, holding her hard against his frame as they waltzed around the floor. He was a natural and so light on his feet. Lucky Cherry. Lucky her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly. Cherry had been so shocked. "You weren't meant to be."
"Let's just say I had a feeling she would be up to something. Our little Cherry can't be trusted. How do you know her?"
"Years ago, we used to play together," she explained, but didn't tell him her mother used to be their housekeeper. She was just a play partner to keep Cherry occupied. That was until one day her mother just got up and left. Taking her with her without a reason or explanation. Even today she wouldn't explain her actions. She was just ripped out of the only home she had ever known. After that it all had gone downhill fast. No friends. No money. No future. So here she was a stand-in. She pressed up against him. One night. Just one night.
"How interesting. I never saw Cherry as a player, well not that type of player. She's a player." He sounded so annoyed to glance up at him under her mask glad for it. He would never see the real Sara Williams. Their paths would never cross again. Light fingers caressed her back driving her mad with yearning, feeling his every caress. Wondering what he was playing at? Obviously, it wasn't going to be a marriage of love. Didn't he say a necessary evil? She leaned in closer running a finger over his chest that was exposed by the open shirt.
"You do realise she won't be on your private plane tomorrow." He had a right to know. She wished she was, then again; he would never be interested in a no-body like her. She was only wearing his ring because she was playing his fiancée that she had no idea about. She frowned. "Does Cherry know about our engagement?"
"Yes, and not our engagement, sweetheart," he reminded her again.
"Okay, rub it in. Dammit, I should've asked for more money," she grumbled because he hadn't been part of the package. Then again she hadn't asked for the money, had she? Well only, a hundred. Cherry had insisted on the five.
"What 10?"
She shook her head. "A grand would...." She sighed. "Too much."
He paused to look down as they swayed to the music. "You were talking hundreds, not thousands?" Shock went through her eyes. "Hardly worth the effort. I would've gone for five grand not measly hundreds."
"Well, not all of us are after money," she sniffed indignantly to moan, because the only reason she agreed to this madness was for money. "Okay, point taken," she noted at his disbelieving gaze. "Smile, you're supposed to be madly in love with me. I only say that because of that kissing beforehand," she added as he smiled showing off his perfect white teeth and delicious lips and dimpling cheeks that the mask allowed. Her hold tightened just to hold herself upright. He was deadly to a girl. And those eyes can only be called bedroom eyes that swept over her.
"You know what really gave you away?" She shook her head. "You didn't recognise me." She thought back to when she had first arrived to the man who walked towards her. All nervous, she shook his hand, and moved on to be shown to her table.
She smiled up at him. "A big mistake that won't happen again," she promised.
"Ah, but how would you recognised me, if you haven't seen my face."
She leaned in closer, playfully. "By your kiss," she dared to be kissed. Long and slow. "Oh, defiantly by your kiss," she sighed, whimsically.
"So you're going to go around kissing a lot of men until you find me. I don't think so, you're wearing my ring," he pointed out.
"Fair point, so I just won't lose you in the crowd, would I? Mind you I do think I would recognise the body, if not the face." She leaned in to kiss his neck that was exposed by the open shirt.
"That was done to keep others distracted, however, sweetheart, I hate to inform you this, it isn't working. No-one can keep their eyes off you, not me. The men are envious I have you in my arms, not theirs. Women in awe of your beauty, and dress. You outshone everyone here tonight. The only thing I do have to criticise you on, is you're being far too nice to be Cherry. She is ruthless, and she would never let any man show her up or kiss her in public as I have kissed you." Sara frowned, because that wasn't the Cherry she remembered. She had always been so good and kind to her, not a ruthless bone in her body.
"Thanks for the heads up, no more kissing. Got it." Damn!
"Too late," he whispered, his lips brushing hers again. "It would look funny now if you suddenly stopped kissing me so just keep doing so."
"I thought it was you who was kissing me," she smiled against his sensual lips that made her all tingly and funny inside. Yes!
"I'm only enjoying my fiancée I hadn't seen in awhile."
"Oh, have you been away?"
"Yes. Clearly, Cherry didn't give you all the important details, did she?"
"Remember, she wasn't expecting you, however, you're a nice surprise," she smiled, spreading her hand around his neck caressing her thumb along his jawline. The mask was making her bold. Surely no female could keep her hands off this man. He leaned in closer to press his mouth near her ear to have her hand in his hair instead that was inky black, thick, and soft to the touch.
"Only, because I'm not exposing you for the fraud that you are."
"Now, you're spoiling things," she moaned as his lips kissed along her cheek as he pulled away slowly. His hand on her waist tightened pressing her harder against his frame, invitingly.
"Maybe I'll need to see to your punishment personally."
Her eyes widened at that. "Oh, I don't think Cherry would like that."
Still holding her other hand he rubbed his thumb over her chin, drawing her eyes to his. "Depends on what you had in mind?"
"Me," she gasped to redden. "Maybe I should be asking you?"
"It's a dangerous game you're playing, sweetheart. Please don't take me for a man easily turned by a pretty face and body, because I'm not. This little masquerade is now for my purposes." His green eyes darkened slightly with warning, sending a shiver of apprehension through her.
"Then perhaps I should be asking you for money," she said, stiffening. "And may I remind you, you were kissing me," she added miffed. Why did the rich think they can do as they pleased and to hell with everyone else. Obviously, he was by his suit and air.
"Just don't think you can wrap me around your little finger," he warned softly, lowering his head to lightly brush her lips.
"I would like to go back now," she said softly. This wasn't fun anymore. His arm slid further around her waist so she couldn't escape him.
"Not yet." She closed her eyes, holding back a frustrated scream, very aware of her body pressed so hard against his. Time to ditch the man, and bolt. The night was over as far as she was concerned. He might be delicious. His kisses mind blowing that didn't give him the right to boss her around. There was a hard side to him. She had to remember she only knew him by Sayyid that confirmed her first thoughts. Middle Eastern.
"Sayyid," she started.
"Please don't call me that."
"Oh, then what do I call you? Honey?" she asked flippantly.
He smiled catching her breath again. "If you insist, I would prefer we didn't use names, sweetheart." So that explained it, not an endearment, feeling disappointed.
"I get it, okay honey, as you want it." Funny how it came so easily from her lips. Rolling off her tongue with meaning. She wanted him to be her honey. "Now can we sit down, honey?" she asked, flattering her lashes at him. "I wouldn't mind a drink," she added at his narrowing eyes. She preferred it when they flirted, not this mistrust. She hadn't actually done anything wrong. Dropping her hand from his hair to drape over his shoulder instead. They were barely moving to the music. "You know there was no malice meant in what we did. You weren't expected honey. I'm not out for what I can get. Just helping each other out." She really didn't know why she was explaining. Liar, liar, pants on fire. She didn't want to look bad in his beautiful green eyes to see mistrust to fixate on them. "Where did you get your eye colouring from?" Middle Eastern eyes were usually dark brown or golden as far as she knew, not green. "Father's or mothers?"
"That's a very personal question, sweetheart."
"Sorry," she lowered her eyes to focus on his open neckline and dark, rich golden colouring of his skin. His Middle Eastern side. Like the most of him to lift her gaze to his strong angular jawline with his five O'clock dark shadow not thicker stubble. So he shaved, really shaved.
His warm breath caressed his cheek as he leaned in closer. "Do you still want that drink?" She nodded. Distance was required and now. Before she did something silly like leaning in closer to kiss him and didn't stop until he took her back to his place. Placing her lips against the base of his throat where his Adam's apple moved. All male. Stop it! He's trouble and engaged to Cherry.
Sayyid guided her to the edge of the dance floor and walked her off back to their table pulling out the chair for her. She sat down with a thank you as he waved for a waiter to order more champagne for the table and to keep them coming. She couldn't fault him on his manners and couldn't really blame him for being suspicious and annoyed. "Honey," she placed a hand on his arm as he settled in his own seat. She couldn't afford it, or make Cherry pay. No matter what she said about putting it on her tab. Who has a tab at a place like this? One might ask then again Cherry's family was one the richest in Australia.
"Don't panic, it's on me."
Though relieved she leaned in. "There was no need," she said softly. "A glass would've done."
"Call it compensation" She paled behind her mask to look away, removing her hand. Sayyid sighed. "I get it sweetheart, no harm done," he conceded, "if you mean that, no cons, no tricks?"
She turned back to him placing her hand back on his arm. "Truly, it's not, it really was about helping each other. Cherry wanted to sneak out under the radar before the wedding." She paused and hated to admit. "I needed the money; she set the price not me. I was happy with a hundred and with all this and this gorgeous dress, I was happy."
"Too sell?"
Her eyes widened in horror. "No way. This is Cherry's and she's getting it back, but it's so gorgeous. I loved it on sight and she said I had to wear it."
"I bet she did," he noted dryly.
"Honey, she said I would be perfect in it and she was being generous. I had nothing to wear to such a function and wouldn't let her buy me anything."
He sighed. "Okay, you win."
She frowned, confused. "Sorry, win what?"
"Cherry asked for a favour, you agreed, and she paid you for your time."
"Exactly," she grinned, because that was exactly the way it was to feel guilty. The money was burning a hole in her belongings that were being held in the cloakroom. Cherry had always been like a sister to her. How could she get paid for doing Cherry a favour? They expected the real Cherry and it was for a good cause. She was giving the money back in a round about way.
Reaching for her name tag she played with it looking at the name of the charity to place back on her right. She had been so scared of stuffing up; she hadn't taken in too many details. Appear, mingle, smile, eat, and have a good time. All for a good cause. Hold on a minute. How did he get seated at her table when he wasn't expected? Also he hadn't want it known he was here. So who was he really? Was Sayyid his real name? She frowned. Of course it was, Cherry had told her that. He just hadn't wanted it spread around, so who was Sayyid? It didn't ring any bells. He was from London so probably not so well known here like Roxbury, one of the richest men in the world.
Time to go.
She rose from her seat lowered to kiss him on the lips and pulled away on his bottom lip, savouring him because it was the last time. "Need to go to the ladies, honey."
"Don't be long."
"Won't," she promised. "The midnight's kiss," she whispered as a promise, "before the unmasking."
"So before midnight we would disappear. Very clever, sweetheart." She kissed him again with heat and passion because it was to last her a lifetime. It was over before it began.
She glided out of the room to pause at the door, glancing back just to soak him in, seated at the table looking so handsome and mysterious. A man of distinction. Then went to the cloakroom to hand in her number to collect a large plain black sports bag. Going into the ladies, she went into a cubicle to strip down and place on a plain black dress. Gently she folded the dress and slipped into the bag that she had emptied with all the care the dress deserved. Removed her matching shoes to slip on black court shoes. She placed the heels under the dress on the bottom of the bag.
Removing the mask, wig, and contact lenses, she shoved them into an oversized handbag she had brought with her in the other bag to run hands through dark, honey hair that tumbled freely over her shoulders. She added the jewellery into the black bag to remove a white envelope filled with the money to remove two fifties, pocked, then zip up the black bag. Grabbing by the handles, she headed out with the handbag over her shoulder.
Leaving the black bag, she collected another number to ask for a pen to write on the back to place in the envelope. Then write on the envelope and handed over with instructions to be handed over at the VIP table, ask for Sayyid to be given to him. With that, she walked away without a backward glance.
Sayyid glanced at his watch. She had been gone a long time, longer than needed. He stood ready to go searching with a feeling of dread she had flown the coop to have a staff member walk towards him. Asked if he was Sayyid to nod and was handed over a plain white envelope with the fun raising name on it to open to find money to flick over with a thumb. Four hundred dollars. So only took what she asked for.
He removed a cloak number to turn over with instructions to collect and give back to Cherry. The Cherry impostor was gone. He sunk down into his chair wondering why she had done that. He left the table to go to the cloakroom and handed over the number to be given a plain black sports bag to open to search to find the dress, shoes, and jewellery she had been wearing. Only to curse softly as it had dawned on him. His ring wasn't there.
She had fled wearing his ring.