Page 208 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Right, and where have you guys been?” I ask, glaring at both of them.

“Definitely not with one singular guy . . .”

“My room.”

Rafe and Alice answer in unison.

“Right. We’ve all been preoccupied with genitals.”

The ballroom is completely transformed and barely recognizable. It is decorated like something out of a gothic romance novel and filled with people wearing varying degrees of scandalous costumes. It’s dark, and the silhouettes of branches spread over the floor like moonlight filtering through a forest. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, but some masterful illusion makes them seem as if they are hovering midair. The walls are covered with vines littered with bloodred roses, and a string quartet plays the most hauntingly beautiful music.

Rafe stops at my side, his eyes darting around. “How am I going to find her?”

I look up at Rafe, but before I can answer, large, strong hands brush against my waist, and increasingly familiar arms wrap around me. My stomach flutters, and I lean back into the broad wall of muscle at my back.

“Your phoenix?” the stranger’s deep voice answers, and I glance at him over my shoulder.

If I thought he looked handsome before, it’s nothing compared to now. He’s wearing a tailored black suit and has a black mask that covers his eyes and nose. Dark stubble shadows his jaw, highlighting the sharp lines of his face. I can definitely see differences in how he’s looked the rest of this weekend, and it sends a thrill through me to know that this is the most he’s been himself without my eyes being covered. This man is breathtaking. So much so that if Rafe replies, I am completely unaware of him.

The stranger said that he would still be wearing a glamour over his face, enough that I won’t really recognize him, but his full, perfect lips are completely him, and they’re irresistible.

“Hello, princess,” the stranger rumbles, turning me in his arms.

I glance at his lips, and they’re even more tempting now. “Hello, Stranger.”

I can practically feel Alice and Rafe roll their eyes before they leave, but I don’t care. I can’t take my eyes off him.

“You found me.”

“You doubted me?”

“No . . .” I shake my head, looking at his lips again.

He lifts me into his arms, his large hands cupping my ass. “You missed me,” he says, and it’s not a question, but I nod anyway. He leans into me, whispering, “I have a surprise.” He nips the tip of my ear, and I shiver. “I only have a glamour on my eyes and my hair.”

My breath hitches, and I try to see past the mask, searching for some recognition. He feels familiar, but he always has, and I realize now how important someone’s eyes are to their persona. My fingers itch to pull the mask from his face, but I know I shouldn’t. He’s taking enough of a risk.

“Everything else is me,” he says, pulling back, scanning my eyes.

“You . . .” I study his face, and the combination of his eyes and hair being wrong, along with the mask . . . I can’t get a good picture.

He sets me back on my feet, and I take a step back to get a good look at him. He seems a little taller, his shoulders broader. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

He cups my chin, tilting my head up. “Kiss me,” he says, and the sound of his true voice almost sends me to my knees.

I look at his lips again, flicking my tongue over my own. “Not here.” I’ve thought about this moment for a very long time, and I don’t want our first actual kiss to be in a room full of people.

“Take me somewhere, then,” he commands, quirking a brow and tugging my chin down a little with his thumb.

I look around. “Let’s dance first.” I’m not sure why I’m feeling so fucking nervous, but he takes it in stride. He leads me to the dance floor and pulls me close. I rest my palm against his broad shoulder as he places his hand on my waist. He kisses the knuckles of my free hand before wrapping his fingers around it and pulling it to his chest. Our bodies are pressed together as we glide over the dance floor. I have no fucking idea how to dance, but he moves so confidently it’s as easy as breathing, my body craving the opportunity to follow his lead.

The stranger dips me dramatically, and my breath catches in my throat. He looks down at me, the faux blue irises nearly consumed by the black of his pupils. He pulls me back to my feet, and we slide back into the dance, spinning with the other couples until he lifts me into the air. When he slowly lowers me back to the ground, he does so by sliding me down the front of his body, and I can’t take any more.

I pull back and slide my hand into his, leading him through the mass of writhing couples on the dance floor. Outside in the garden, we pass guests standing beneath the stars, conversing, kissing, touching. I continue past them all, down the stairs to a secluded gazebo. The music from the ballroom just reaches here, but it’s soft, the whisper of an echo. Fae lights hover within the small structure, bathing it in a golden glow. The stranger looks up through the glass panes of the roof at the stars and then back at me. I stand in the center and watch him. The distance between us is nearly painful, but now that we are here, I can’t move.

He prowls closer and cups my cheek. “Private enough?”

I nod, barely breathing as I glance at his lips, mine parting in anticipation. The stranger pulls me against him, and I lift onto my tiptoes. The ache between us is almost palpable. He bends a little until our lips are nearly touching.