In Search Of Gold

I conceal my face with the use of the mask, and Jane follows suit. She climbs from the vehicle first and as immediately as she does, she already seems to consume everybody's attention. I am not surprised. If I am one of these men, I'd most likely turn my head and have a boner with Jane in sight.

She's wearing mesmerizing clothing. From being dark, the dress twirls down into waves of midnight blue, glittering stars sparkling from the V-line that crossed her chest, allowing a generous view of her cleavage. Earrings that seem to glint are hanging in each of her ears. They're very simple and minimalist, not as head-turner as mine, but equally beautiful. She looks incredibly attractive and the only thing I'm hoping for at this moment is that she's aware of it.

I breathe deeply. I didn't realize that guests come in such a number. They're wearing their expensive suits and dresses and glinting jewelries that almost blinds me.

Jane looks down through the window and gestures her head. I nod at her and climb out of the vehicle.

I look around and the first thing I notice are the men. Regardless of being concealed by their mask, I can feel everyone's eyes on me and I feel uncomfortable under their gaze.

The mansion is massive and what Jane described minutes ago is an understatement. It's more than what power the words has to describe. With the combination of sky blue, gold and spotless white paint, it is looking more like Zeus's palace than a mansion. It looks like it is given with complete care. It is the main attraction of the island after all.

I walk up to the staircase one at a time, feeling everyone's eyes on me. I'm not used to being the center of attraction and I am really hoping that they'd at least turn to someone else.

The interior is as wide as what one would expect from seeing the exterior. The ceiling, which suspends a giant chandelier, exhibits its renaissance kind of beauty. The mansion gives off a renaissance period kind of vibe and I feel like I'm Juliet searching for my Romeo.

And speak of the devil, regardless of the mask he's wearing, on the staircase that look like they are made of gold, this Romeo descends proudly. He looks so sexy wearing his dark expensive suit that formed his sizzling hot body, and gold watch that indicates how valuable he is. He is watchful of the crowds and when he finally catches sight of me and the necklace that indicates I'm the one he's looking for, he maintains his watchful gaze, and he's watching me.

He walks toward me and I transfix him with my piercing dark eyes and not realizing that I already lost Jane.

“Hi there. You must be the one I've been looking for?” His masculine voice is enough to give chills down my body. I want to hear him speak more, but this time, I want him to speak on my neck.

“I don't know. Are you looking for Juliet?” I respond.

“I’m no Romeo, lady. My life is not a tragedy,”

“What’s your life then?”

“Business?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, and in this business, I am the boss.” He inches closer to me, eyes studying me from my toes up to my forehead.

“But tonight, it's you who somehow gave me a raise.”

His line brings shiver down my spine and I can feel this remote and wild side of me attempting to get out of the closet.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I reply to him.

“The only thing you're taking tonight is my hand.” He takes my hand and guides me all the way to the ballroom where several gents and ladies are already dancing.

“How good are your feet, lady?” He places a strong and firm hand on my hips.

“As good as my hands.” I bite my lips unconsciously which mister Crown, under the mask, responds with a lascivious smirk.

Crown transfers his hand to my back, my hand on his shoulder, and our free hands finally met.

He moves his body first and mine follows. Without even realizing it, both of our bodies begins to sway in the perfect rhythm of my exploding heart.

As the song progresses I feel relaxed, and allow a small smile to form on my lips. I focus on him and by the look on his eyes, I know he's focusing on me as well and the crowd seem to disappear, leaving us alone in the spotlight. I twist when it is my turn to, drop when he wants me to and bend backward when he commands my body to. I never feel in danger while being thrown and toss and sway by his strong hands, in fact I feel surprisingly safe. Now I want to be thrown and toss more, but not during the dance.

The dance progress and he brings my figure to an arch and lifts one of my legs and I can feel his groin between me.

I don't know if he notice me gasp but I know he realizes that he's making me perspire.

“I’m begining to like this position,” I whisper.

He pulls me into an erect position and our face meet dangerously close.

“You haven't even seen half of the positions I know.” The warmth and the mystery of his voice tickles my neck. I can feel the hotness surging inside me. This is bad. If this continues, I know I won't be able to hold back.

“Wonder what those positions will have an effect on me,” I say softly while our bodies continues to do the magic. He makes a sudden unexpected move and I almost trip over. He catches me right before I land on my back.

“I don't know, but I'm sure it'll sweep you off of your feet.” He pulls me back to him. My heartbeat is growing steadily along with the music. Our dance is perfect; everything from our breathing to how our feet are moving stays in sync. I let him take over my body and I slowly begin to imagine that we're basically one in this dance.

We continue in this magical movements until we have to separate, though I am a bit sad to be away from his warmth.

The music ends and the audiences’ applause takes over. It is by then that I realize they're still there. I was so consumed with the dance that I almost forgot about them.

I couldn’t help but smile at him and he smiles back at me. Now I know why ladies just can't get their hearts off of Jordan Crown.

“Come.” Crown holds my hand.

“I’ll introduce you to my acquaintances.”

Crown guides me to a group of men in suits as the crowd separates to their own businesses. The men varies in different heights and figures. Two are fit and tall, four are short and one's the shortest. But the one person that catches my attention is this lady in red. She look very irresistible from my eyes. Perfect slender and curvy body, visibly big breasts and bold scarlet lips that almost look like she drank blood. Under the mask that conceals her face I begin to realize that she's staring at me. The kind of stare I can only respond by breaking it.

“What a beautiful evening it is, Jordan Crown,” one of the fudgy men in suit comments.

“Indeed, Mr. Barkley,” Jordan answers. Barkley? The surname that owns the tallest building in Manhattan? He's actually here? He's actually mister Crown's acquaintance?

“And the voluptuous lady you are with is an excellent bonus.” The man catches my hand and he plants a soft kiss on the back of it.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“Keila Taylor,” I reply.

“Wonderful name.”

I shake everyone's hand but fail to initiate my hospitality with this particular lady.

“And how are you related to this beautiful lady, Jordan?” The lady speaks for the first time. There is a mysterious authoritative tone in the way she speaks. It's as if she's ordering Jordan to spill my identity. Who exactly is she?

I feel a hand cup my hips and gasp when mister Crown draws me closer to him, his masculine scent almost weakening me.

“She’s my girlfriend.” A grin contorts in Crown's lips.

What the fuck? Am I hearing things or did he actually say I'm his girlfriend?

“Wait, what?” I demand.

“I’m not—”

His grip tightens. An indication of threat. He looks down at me, keeping his mysterious grin, eyes dangerously dark and threatening.

“Fiance rather.” He gives me a good view of his healthy white teeth. I begin to comprehend what he's trying to do. I turn my attention back to the lady in front of us. Could it be that?

“Your fiance?” The lady giggles softly

“My guess is my charm wasn't that good enough, Jordan. In just six months you actually found a replacement—and not just a replacement—a fiance. Most men in the past struggled to get over me.”

“Well, I'm not most men.” There's something so cold and distant in Crown's voice. Something emotionless and inhumane.

The lady smiles and extends a hand to me.

“Barbara Lang,” she introduces. For a moment, lost in my pure surprise, I stare thoughtfully at her feminine hands before shaking it and as we do so, there's something rough with the way she shakes my hand.

“Keila Taylor.” I tighten my grip and she must have notice it because her smile widens. There's no way I'm going to let myself be intimidated by this bitch. I stare at those dark eyes of hers and she stares right back at mine. Barbara drops my hand but not her gaze.

“Excuse us, ladies and gentlemen, there's someone I and my fiance must speak with. I'll see you around. I hope you have a pleasant evening,” Jordan farewells politely.

“Likewise, soon-to-be Mr and Mrs. Crown,” utters Mr. Barkley.

Jordan drags me away from them and when we reach a certain distance, his attitude changes in a matter of seconds.

“You almost failed me, Keila,” Crown frowns.

“I…I was surprised. That was way too sudden, mister Crown, and besides pretending to be your fiance is absolutely not part of my job,” I hiss, tailing him. He stops abruptly, turns around and transfixes me with his paralyzing gaze and for a moment his silence almost sends me down to my knees.

“You must have forgotten about the adaptability bullshit you uttered a while ago, Keila. Your job is to insurance a smooth and convenient flow of not only my work but also my life,”

“But that's a work of a housewife,”

“And in this theater play of ours, you're my fiance.”

I reply with silence.

“You’ll have to pretend to be my fiance for this entire tour, Keila. It's one of the tests you'll have to overcome,” he adds. I didn't know there was a test I had to overcome.

“And call me Jordan. It's safer than calling me by my last name.”

The only thing I am able to do is to nod my head like a good girl. I need the job and the last thing I need right now is to be fired just because I didn't pretend to be his fiance.

* * * * *

The evening ran smoothly and quickly. After some presentations from famous singers and dance groups, the feast began. An expensive kind of feast that includes some of the most delicious, mouthwatering and succulent dishes cooked by a chef's heart. After that the dance continues and for five minutes, I am left alone in one chair as mister Crown ensures everyone's having a wonderful night. At ten the hosts announce the start of the game called 'treasure hunt'. The kind of game I wasn't expecting adults like us would be included in.

Crown hands me a tote bag. I watch him folding his sleeves aggressively as if he's preparing for a battle to begin. He looks absolutely hot revealing his veiny arms, the same veiny arms that lead me to think of indecent thoughts.

“Do we really have to participate, mister—Jordan?” I ask with an exaggerated sigh.

“This is the most fun part of this evening, Keila. Everyone has been waiting their entire life for this part of the ball,” Jordan replies. The most important part of the ball is a child's game called 'treasure hunt'? Don't give me that crap.

When the horn sounded, the entire people of the island scattered in search of these so-called treasures. There is a mysterious excitement and thrill in everybody's eyes, the big wealthy men included, and I begin to brainstorm what the reward of this game could be that it actually filled everyone with life.

. . .

Jordan and I are walking down this dark rocky path with our flashlights on. Such a waste of time when I could have spent it on the mansion drinking and eating those delicious steaks. God just thinking of those dishes makes my intestines wiggle like worms.

I aim the flashlight at a rock and it so happens that there's a small leather pouch laying in a way that is purposely hidden.

I crouch down to pick it up, Jordan Crown noticing me.

“You found one. Good job, woman,” Jordan simply says. It feels so heavy when I lift it from the ground. What the hell is inside this pouch? A rock perhaps? Great! Wasted ten minutes looking for a rock.

I take it out of the pouch and the sigh of it surprises me to my core. It is a weighty rectangular brick of metal, one I have seen only on television. When I position the torch on it, it reflects to me, almost blinding me.

“Is this…gold?” My jaw drops two feet, eyes widening like coins and when Jordan answers, I almost lose it.

“It’s mine now?”

I thought I am hallucinating and hearing things when Jordan says yes. I keep a watchful eye of the heavy object I am carrying, like an infant’s first glimpse of the world outside its mother’s body. This is enough to knock the stuffing out of me.

“I told you this is the most awaited part of the ball.”

. . .

Now I wasn't expecting that the game called 'Treasure hunt' is actually a hunt for literal treasure. The game I thought was a waste of time gave me a bar of gold, six one hundred dollar bill and a ring made entirely out of gold. And the guests and the villagers all found themselves some wealth for them to take. Wonder how much millions of dollars must have Jordan spent for this entire ball, but then would it even bother him?

Two minutes until twelve and I am looking at the nightsky here in the mansion's balcony. The evening bathe the island with its darkness like a black paint invading a plain white canvas. The stars seem to twinkle, seem as happy as I am. The evening breeze pierces through my skin and I shiver in response. The evening is cold but when I notice, out of the corner of my eye, Jordan approaching from behind, I suddenly feel a geyser of flame climbing inside me and the cold seems to disappear. A smile contorts in my lips without me noticing.

“It’s cold out here isn't it?” Jordan says, leaning against the railing.

“You bet,” I reply without looking. Silence overtakes the atmosphere and my heart begins to pump rapidly. Jordan is always responsible for my palpitations. He always brings this mysterious thrill whenever he's around me and just to be clear, he's not even touching me yet. He excites me and I am not in the business of denying that.

He glances back at the people inside the mansion. Could be checking if anyone's nearby or if somebody might intervene his move.

The balcony is dimly–lit and the only light that crosses here is the light from the inside. Nobody would notice me if I jump here in excitement.

Jordan clears his throat.

“Enjoying the view?” I notice him gradually inching next to me. My smile widens, cheeks heating, heart about to explode out of my chest.

“For sure, only if it wasn't so cold. I could really use some warmth,” I respond. By this time Jordan is no more than five inches away from me.

“Allow me then.” He slowly twists my figure until we're finally facing at each other's direction. I stare through those captivating blue eyes of his and he stares right through mine. He places a hand just above my bottom and draws me closer to him. By this time my thighs feel like they're being cooked.

He stares at my lips and I feel the shivers running back down to my spine. He moves his face closer to mine and for the first time our lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss, and my sanity almost explode in the process. His lips are warm, wet and soft and comforting and when I try to fight the urge to give in to this notorious playboy, I failed miserably. I feel dizzy. He kiss so good, and it only serves to further taunt this dirty side of me to get out of the closet. This must be the reason why ladies just can't let go of him.

I feel his hands slowly gliding down to my buttocks and he cups one of them. He pulls me closer and I can feel his bulging pants against my heating thighs. I badly want him in bed. I badly want him on top of me. I badly want him.

But I pull back abruptly and I can see the pure shock and frustration in his face.

“It’s getting late. I must go now,” I excuse myself, leaving him stunned, leaving him speechless. I run away and never look back. This should be enough to tease him.