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Just breathe.She adjusted the light blue mask on her face, the color indicating she was new. A neon sign might have been more comfortable to wear, given she was only one of two people in the room sporting the color.
His strides ate up the expensive Oriental carpeting. When he was a mere twelve inches from her, her neck craned to look up into his face. Now, so close to his glittering eyes, every nerve in her body lit up like the sun. Her heart thundered against her ribs, and her teeth grabbed her bottom lip—probably more to have something to do rather than chatter.
“Hello.” His voice matched his eyes—deep and assured.
With a small wink, Charlotte scooted away, and the room constricted, narrowing down to him as if all the people around them had been pushed away by invisible hands.
“Hi. I’m …” Why was she having such trouble forming words? As a foreign language translator, she was usually much quicker with them—in four languages.
“Colette. Yes, I know.”
Of course, he knew. Everyone in the room likely had a dossier on her already—something with big letters that said, “Look, but don’t touch.”
Alexander’s club application was akin to filling out a college application—and one that only allowed her entry to tonight’s introduction party. Nothing beyond. Apparently, to join the club officially, one must have a background check worthy of the CIA.
The masked man held out a hand, which she took.
Warm flesh engulfed her hand. “Enjoying yourself?”
She nodded. Enjoying wasn’t the word she’d use, but it’d do.
“Anything in particular catch your eye?” His hand kept possession of hers.
Okay, small talk was underrated anyway. “I’m not sure yet. But nothing I’ve seen has me running for the hills—yet.” She tried to sound light, flirty. Instead, her voice came out thin and little more than a squeak.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He studied her face. “You look beautiful tonight, Colette. But then, you always did.” He flipped her hand over and pressed a small card into her palm. “Think about it.”
He then released his handhold and strode away.
Wait a minute. Always did? She glanced down at the little card he’d given her. It read:Griffin Miles Storm.
Her brain froze along with every part of her body. He couldn’t be.
On the back, he’d written a note in large-scrolled handwriting.My office. Thursday. 12 noon.
No address. But he didn’t need to give one, did he? She knew exactly where his office was. Knew whohewas.
Holy. Shit.She glanced around, her eyes searching for him, a man she hadn’t believed she’d ever see again.
Charlotte was by her side in seconds. She squeezed Colette’s elbow. “It appears he’s very interested indeed.”
“He gave me his card.” She enclosed both hands over it, almost afraid to look at it again.
“Oh, that means the ball is in your court. And if you do contact him, know it’ll likely be the last time.”
“Last time?”
“The ball. Your court.” Charlotte smiled at her. “Master Griffin is, well, a man who’s always in charge. It’s better if you two talk.”
Adrenaline spiked so hard she could barely breathe.
Charlotte’s brows furrowed. “Hey, are you okay? You know you don’t ever have to—”
“No.” She forced a smile on her face. “I’m fine. I just can’t believe …”
“Oh, I know. It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Charlotte whisper-squealed in her ear. “You’re finally taking the first step.”
She should have never shared her fantasies with Charlotte. Her friend swore she’d never run into anyone she knew at Club Accendos, and identities were strictly hidden at introductory parties.Ha!Colette was just handed a stiff business card by someone she’d never, ever believed she’d see again—Griffin Storm, her Medieval History professor.
