The Secret Gala (18+)

Chapter 1 - SAMPLE

The Secret Gala is an annual affair with three simple rules:

No names.

No limits.

No consequences.

The invitations come without warning, leaving little time for the select few to find appropriate attire for the most exclusive event of the season.

It had made my life hell for the past month, with all of the last-minute custom orders and alterations. The shop had been nearly overrun the day after the invitations were sent, and Madame was forced to shoo some of them away.

It was only after the initial rush that she'd shown me her invitation.

And begged me to take it.

So, now I stood in a strange ballroom, wearing a gown I'd helped create, bearing several clever features of my own invention, my face hidden behind a simple lace mask.

Based on the looks I was getting, it seemed to be a hit.

The tooled black leather bodice of my dress was inscribed with delicate patterns that had taken painstaking hours to craft, while the voluminous skirt was of the purest black silk and dotted with jet. It shone like the stars in a moonless sky, and as I danced, I could feel the eyes following me.

Of course, to anyone who asked, I readily supplied the name of my dressmaker.

"Madame Patricia."

My mentor.

With any luck, we would get orders for similar garments in the coming weeks, as attendees prepared for the next Gala, hoping that they would again be chosen.

Patricia, as a designer for the rich and titled, had received an invitation every year without fail, a courtesy that she hadn't taken advantage of since she'd married.

Until now.

Now, I danced around the lavish ballroom of a country estate belonging to gods-knew-who, doing my best to fend off the advances of suitors who wished to partake of the other festivities with me.

No names. No limits. No consequences.

Madame had given me ample warning of this - I knew that, beyond the ballroom, the estate was a free-for-all of carnal desire. From the scores of empty bedrooms, to the salons, gardens, studies and linen closets, people would be fucking all over the property tonight.

Only the servant's quarters were sacrosanct, but everywhere else was fair game.

I declined these offers as politely as I could when they came. Tonight would end with me sleeping alone in my room above the studio - I'd promised myself as much.

After all, the pawing hands of strange men didn't appeal to me. I'd endured the amorous attention of an admirer long enough to discover that I wasn't interested in the services he had to offer. I'd broken off our arrangement and hadn't taken another man to bed since.

So, when Madame had insisted that I partake of a particular tea in preparation for tonight - said to prevent pregnancy - I'd indulged her, knowing that it was all for naught.

But now, here, under the glittering lights of the overhead chandelier, the thought of spending the night with a stranger had taken on an intriguing appeal.

As the clock neared ten, I smiled in the arms of a man I didn't want, internally wondering how long I would have to wait until politeness allowed me to excuse myself.

A quartet seated on a dais filled the room with music, and I savored the sweet melody they made to distract from my revulsion as an unwelcome hand slid downward from my waist to my ass.

"So, is this your first Gala?"

Fixing my gaze over his shoulder so that I wouldn't have to look him in the eye, I replied to his questions with a neutral courtesy, not wanting to inflame his passion.

He'll find someone else, and I can escape to my maiden bed.

Probably...

Across the room, my eyes fixed on the refreshment table, watched as the swift attendants mixed beverages and dished out succulent morsels.

Maybe I'll get something to drink next.

The man at the bar, a tall, silver haired gentleman with a finely tailored tuxedo and confident bearing, handed the bartender a tip and took his drink, turning to face the room.

My breath caught as I studied him.

Dark eyes shone past his mask, sharp and alert, and my gaze followed the strong column of his throat as it disappeared under the high collar of his shirt.

Gods...

I looked away, not wanting to make a fool of myself. I might have had a fondness for older men, but tonight was not the night to indulge that.

Surely?

However, as I danced with my partner, I couldn't help the way my eyes sought him, savoring the way his pants hugged the curves of his long legs, the way the candlelight glinted off the strands of his hair.

Then, he glanced over and caught me staring.

Damn!

Flushing, I tried to focus on the man in my arms, the repugnant odor of his cologne, the leering gleam in his eyes, the sweaty warmth of his hands seeping into my elbow length gloves.

"Penny for your thoughts, my Lady?"

I'm not yours.

Hiding my annoyance, I smiled, "I was thinking that I might like a drink."

He turned us, his foot narrowly missing mine, "Oh? I might partake myself."

By the smell of his breath, he already had.

His hand found the bare curve of my shoulder, confirming my suspicions about the sweatiness of his palms.

I felt my expression tighten, concealing my disgust.

"You know, we might be able to take a whole bottle," his thumb brushed against my skin, "find ourselves an empty room and while away the hours drinking and fucking like rabbits."

The image flashed over my mind - of me laying prone beneath him, bored as he rutted away, grunting like a pig.

No, thank you.

Stepping back, I apologized, "Actually, um... I'm developing a bit of a headache. To be perfectly frank, I'll probably be leaving soon."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling anything but. "Thank you for the dance, though!" I curtsied quickly before hurrying to the bar and ordering a glass of water.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him approach another woman. Based on her reaction, she was apparently more amenable to his advances than I was.

Oh, please – let me be rid of him.

The bartender returned, offering me a short, icy glass. I took it with a quick, "Thank you."

Stepping away, I drank a small sip of water, unconsciously looking for the man who'd so thoroughly roused my curiosity.

Then, a voice behind me spoke, "Pity about the headache..."

I hope you enjoyed this teaser! If you're interested, you can check out the rest of The Secret Gala, currently posted in full on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/AuthorPhoebeMorris)!