I finished my drink and wandered off to look for something else to imbibe. Or Elle, so I could leer at her some more. I passed through the living room to see my father holding court in his wheelchair and turned toward the library. That's when I heard it.
Someone was singing.
At first I thought it was a recording, the voice was so beautiful. Some vintage record of a classic jazz singer. But then the richness of it washed over me, making me realize someone was singing here. Now.
An angel.
The voice lifted higher, soaring above the party noises. It was sweet but not pure. No, there was a rich, husky quality to it. It sounded like smoke.
A boulder settled in my stomach.
Goosebumps broke out on my arms.
I knew even before I turned the corner who I would see, her hip pressed jauntily against the piano while Daniel played holiday music. Of course. It had to be her.
It was.
Elle.
I stared at her hungrily while the rest of the world disappeared. Her voice went straight through me, like a knife. A sweet soul-stirring knife. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.
Jesus Christ, but the girl could sing.
I had a sinking feeling that I was in deeper than I’d thought I was with her. I’d already been bordering on obsession and that was before I heard her voice. She wasn't just talented. She was exceptionally gifted.
Suddenly, her fierce pride made more sense. She was definitely not the type to sell herself short. Being extremely beautiful and talented just added to that self-esteem. And that was going to make her even harder to get.
But it didn't matter how elusive she was. I wasn't going to go down without a fight. Miss Eleanor Gavin had no idea how persistent I could be.
She didn't stand a chance.
Hell, maybe neither one of us did.
I grabbed a cup of coffee from a passing waiter and chugged it down without milk or sugar.
I wanted to be sober as a judge for this.
I was going to get my woman.
Chapter Fourteen
Elle
I carried the rubber bin of clean dishes into the butler's pantry and set it down. The party was still going strong but I was always on top of cleaning up so I wouldn't be up until all hours. I was tired. Happy, but tired.
Somehow, by some miracle, the Delancey Estate felt like home.
Who would have thought that I would feel so welcomed here? The Delancey's hadn't just hired me, they'd embraced me. They had even asked me to sing at their holiday party. They paid me generously to do it too, above and beyond my wages.
I knew that at first the elder two Delancey brothers had thought I was an easy woman that Jake was trying to pawn off on them. But through hard work I’d proven them wrong. Now Jackson was my biggest advocate, telling Mrs. Garrety to make sure to give me any shifts I wanted.
The fact that I rejected Jake's overtures on a daily basis didn't hurt either. I had a sneaking suspicion that people were taking bets on us, which gave me an uneasy feeing. Either way, I put my foot down every time he tried to flirt with me, no matter who was watching.
It was getting harder and harder to ignore him though. The man was sex on wheels! He was too handsome for his own good and for mine. And he’d been sweet, too. Always making sure I had what I needed. Checking on me. I would be a liar if I said I wasn't tempted every time he sidled up to me. And my mother had raised me not to lie.
"Having fun?"
Well, speak of the Devil and he will appear.
I shivered. I already had goosebumps, just from feeling his eyes on me. I turned to see Jake lounging in the doorway to the pantry. The man could make a slab of concrete look like an easy chair. He was permanently relaxed. Those gorgeous bedroom eyes just added insult to injury.
I frowned at him. He'd been drinking all night. Everyone knew Jake Delancey liked to drink, but tonight he was really pouring the hard stuff down his gullet. I’d heard the staff and several of the guests clucking their tongues over his drinking and general lack of decorum. But he didn’t look uncouth. Just mildly disreputable. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing strong tanned forearms covered in tattoos.
He reminded me of a hawk in a hen house. He wasn't like the rest of these soft, rich folks. No, Jake Delancey was dangerous.
And as sexy as the devil himself.
I swallowed nervously, hoping he didn’t notice.
Damn if he didn't look good enough to eat with his jacket off and the shirt loosened around his thick neck. I tossed my head at him and went back to what I was doing. I stacked the fine porcelain salad bowls carefully, making sure they were all lined up. But I could still see him from the corner of my eye.