Free Stolen Rapture by Denyse Bridger

 
     
     
 
 
    Pulsing music, and an explosion of blinding camera flashes signaled the start of the show, and the main runway came to life with color and activity. Applause rippled the air like waves buffeting a shoreline, and through it all, the sea of voices hummed like white noise. Deluna had done this enough times that it lacked glamour and awe. She simply made certain the models moved in smooth precision, the procession a well-oiled machine.
    She was filling in at this show. She'd come as a buyer, not a dresser and stage manager. But, it gave her a unique view of the collection, and she'd found clothing for the photo-shoot she'd been lucky enough to land.
    An icy tingle shot up her spine, and she turned from the models, searching for the source of her unease it didn't take more than half a minute to lock gazes with the most stunning man she'd ever seen. He stood over six feet tall, had dark brown hair, and sculpted features that were the stuff of sighs and dreams. At the moment, he watched her, occasionally glancing at the runway. But there was a marked lack of real interest in his expression as models paraded past; if anything, he looked bored and restless.
    His eyes were striking, one as blue as the summer skies, while the other was a brilliant shade of emerald green. It made his stare even more compelling.
    * * *
    The show ended with a flawless presentation. An hour later, she was attending the reception that inevitably followed all successful fashion shows. While the models moved among the buyers, she took in the flow of material, planning photos for the next day's shoot. A cool kiss of air touched the back of her neck. She knew before she turned that she'd find him near her.
    "Can I get you a drink?"
    His voice poured over her like chocolate silk, smooth, perfectly modulated, rich and seductive. She blinked, wondered for a moment if he had actually spoken, or if the magnificent voice was in her mind.
    "I'm Cordeaux Vincente." He extended his hand to her.
    She took the proffered hand and smiled. "Deluna Jordan. What brings you to this show?"
    He laughed, making her feel slightly foolish.
    "I'm sorry, that really isn't any of my business."
    "No, it's a reasonable question. I work for Falcon's Flight."
    Her eyes widened. "Wow. So you're checking out the competition?"
    He grinned. "In a manner of speaking. Rahve likes to know if anyone's pushing product that looks a little bit too familiar."
    She considered that revelation for a moment, then nodded. "Makes sense, he's very popular."
    "More than he likes at times."
    "I find that hard to believe," she noted dryly.
    Cord's incredible eyes narrowed. "You know Rahve?"
    "Not really." She paused, and a huge grin spread across her face. "Rahve Falcon doesn't usually notice mere mortals like me. I've seen him around. I'm a photographer, I'm here to buy for a new photo shoot, and I was roped into helping out when the dresser and stage manager ran off to get married!"
    "Would you like to run off? We could have dinner?" he suggested.
    She looked around, the models were still mingling with potential buyers. There were the hangers on that were at every show, and the designer, her old roomie Dane Grayson. Dane was the image of bliss, and she knew him well enough to understand the enraptured look in his eyes–he was calculating the potential sales from tonight's successful show. He caught her eye and headed her way. She turned to Cord and placed a hand on his arm.
    "If it looks like he's not going to shut-up, please take me away!" She was sincere, and he nodded, sipping a drink to hide his smile when Grayson joined them.
    "Perfect, Deluna!" He pulled her into a tight hug then kissed her cheeks. "I knew the moment you walked in the day was saved!"
    She laughed and shook her head. Dane was a charmer, always effusive, but he genuinely cared, and his flirty warmth always made her feel special. "Dane, you'll never lose your gift for exaggeration, will you?"
    "Only truth, sweetheart, and