Chapter One
God what a night.
Renee Hawkins squinted into the darkness and tried to ignore the heavy gusts of wind that rocked her compact car. It was one of those nights where the weather was so awful it was better just to stay home than venture out.
Unfortunately, staying at home with a pint of ice cream and a romantic comedy movie marathon wasn't going to happen.
No, tonight she had other plans, and this weather was just an unnerving backdrop for what she was about to do. Crash a party thrown by a pirate and steal a priceless brooch right out from under his nose. No big deal.
"And you're a freaking drama queen," she muttered aloud, flexing her fingers around the steering wheel. "He's no more a pirate than you are."
Okay, maybe Devon Murray wasn't technically a pirate, but it was rumored that he was descended from one, and was no less intimidating. He was a former hacker, turned creator of the popular social media platform Overshare. Since it was currently taking the world by storm, it meant Mr. Murray was now a billionaire-and a super kinky billionaire at that, if she believed the rumors.
No one really knew, and if they did, they wouldn't confirm it. All she knew of Devon Murray was what the rest of the world knew-just certain tidbits that had been come from media stories, and news and magazine articles. And even though there was an abundance of them, they barely scratched the surface of the notorious, mysterious man who evoked so much curiosity.
He was rarely photographed, so she pretty much had no idea what he looked like. For the most part Eric Ross, the co-founder of Overshare, was the public face. Devon was a man who obviously valued his privacy and kept his identity pretty well hidden. Any time a picture would be required for interviews or social media, there was simply a black rose as a symbol.
Which made it fitting that the silk black rose on her passenger seat was also the ticket into the party tonight.
Her best friend Lucy, who'd tipped her off to his party this evening, was going to meet her there. Lucy had snagged a legit invite when she'd begun dating the co-founder of Overshare. The two had met when he'd come in to be interviewed for the radio show she was a DJ on.
So Lucy's invite to the party was real, it was only Renee's who wasn't. Her friend was taking a risk for her tonight. A big one. She had the impression that neither Eric nor Devon was the kind of man you screwed with.
Renee jumped as her cell phone came to life, her nerves were so shot. Activating her blue tooth, she answered.
"Hey," Lucy murmured. "It's me. Are you almost there?"
"Yes. Maybe five minutes out."
"Good. Did you dress sexy?"
"I think so. I'm wearing this corset type thing that makes my boobs look ginormous. My skirt's way too short. And my makeup-fuck, I look like I should be walking the streets, Luce."
"You sound perfect. Tonight you can't be your normal safe, quirky, and just-off-the-farm looking Renee. Tonight you need to be a walking sex bomb. Sensual. Confident." Lucy paused. "And open-minded, if you're going to be convincing. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
"I'll be fine." And maybe if she told herself that enough, she'd start to believe it. Delusion was a beautiful thing.
Her hands tightened to a death grip on the steering wheel as sweat trickled between her breasts.
"Channel your inner call girl. Just don't let yourself think about it too much, and just, you know, enjoy yourself."
"Okay if you don't stop talking to me about this? I'm going to lose my nerve, turn my car around and drive home."
"You can't afford to," Lucy reminded her. "You have to take this chance."
"I know."
If she didn't take this chance, it meant her grandparents could lose their home. She couldn't let that happen, not after they'd raised her when her druggie parents had left her on their doorstep as a baby and disappeared onto the streets. It was only recently that Renee had discovered her grandparents had taken a second mortgage to pay for her college, and were unable to pay it back.
So if there was any way she could help them, she would do it.
"I'm almost there, Lucy. I just turned onto the road that leads to his property. The code worked perfectly at the gates."
The canopy of trees snuffed out the moonlight. Anxiety clawed at her stomach and she sucked in a slow breath. The road was private and went on for a few miles, before it emerged out of the trees and into a clearing.
"Okay, I'll let you go. I'm probably ten minutes behind you in my car. But remember-you don't know me if you see me." Lucy's tone was firm. "We have no connection. I don't exist. Just do your thing."
"Got it. You don't exist. It's just me..." Terrified out of her mother-freaking mind. "Love ya, Luce."
"Love you, too. Be careful."
"Back at ya." She ended the call, knowing her friend was probably going to be just as over her head at this party as Renee was.
Thoughts of her friend disappeared as the Murray estate came into view. It was massive and took her breath away. Located on acres of land in Northern California, the house itself was large and Tudor in style-easily over a hundred years old.
Renee wasn't surprised to see a valet as she pulled up to the house. She turned into the circular drive, stopped, and climbed out of her car.
For a moment her legs wobbled and she was tempted to turn and jump back behind the wheel. Only after drawing in a deep breath did she hand her key to the valet and watch as he got into her car and drove off.
You can do this. You've got to do this.
Getting onto the estate hadn't been a problem-but getting through the door would be. Then again, she'd come prepared for this next part.
Renee followed another couple as they strode briskly up to the huge oak front door. She fidgeted with the black rose in her hand, her stomach flipping as she spotted a large blond man in a tuxedo standing guard at the door. Was he a butler? Or a bouncer?
In front of her was a tall redhead in a slinky dress, her arm held by a man that looked distinguished in his well-tailored suit. The man handed their black rose to the bouncer who gave it a thorough inspection.
Renee bit her lip in nervous anticipation. With a bit of luck her knockoff version would pass his close scrutiny, but she was starting to wonder. Maybe they were covered in some kind of ultraviolet ink or something. Had some kind of chip implanted.
Crap. If so, she was screwed.
The bouncer placed the couple's rose-invitation with others in a large crystal vase on a table just inside the foyer.
"Please step inside so you may be prepared," the bouncer told the couple.
"Mmm, I've heard about this part." The woman cooed as she stepped forward.
After the two stepped inside, the bouncer followed, leaving the door slightly ajar. Curious as to just what the ‘preparation' entailed, Renee edged forward to peak through the crack into the foyer.
The woman stood against the wall, her back to the bouncer standing in an intimate position behind her. Her date was in a similar position, but instead of a male bouncer, a woman in black leather had come up behind him.
The bouncer slid his hands around the front of the woman, and into the V of her dress.
Holy crap!
Renee's mouth parted in a silent gasp as the bouncer pulled the woman's breasts free from her slinky red dress. He covered her small, pale breasts with his massive hands and began rubbing his palms across her nipples.
Renee tried to stifle her shocked groan as all questions about what ‘preparation' meant were answered. Even while part of her was going into shock, there was another part of her stirring at the sensual sight.
She watched as the bouncer lowered one hand to the woman's thigh, and then up and under her dress. A moment later the woman surrendered a long, throaty moan.
Renee pulled away from the door and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the stimulating image.
Oh God.
Lucy had warned her this was a very sexy type of party, but she hadn't expected this. To get groped at the door by someone she didn't even know. She couldn't do this. She could not do this.
The door opened and the bouncer appeared. The smile on his face contained entirely too much anticipation for her taste as he approached her.
Inside the house a man scanned the surveillance monitors showing different areas of the house and property.
All was running well tonight-nothing out of the ordinary or suspicious to give him pause.
Satisfied that everything seemed under control, he started to turn away from the monitor when he noticed her. The woman stood in the doorway on the front porch, glancing inside the entryway with an expression of utter shock.
"Well hello, sweetheart," he murmured. "You don't belong here, do you?"
He zoomed in on her on the screen and made another murmur of interest.
The woman had made a fine effort to fit in, with her pretty red corset, tight and short skirt, and then those stilettos, which were undeniably hot.