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Just like always. Except now, instead of being a servant hiding in the shadows, I'll be one of them.
A bell, hanging close to the curtain that keeps me separated from the ball itself, chimes softly. That's my cue. I toe up to the curtain and pull it aside slowly, peeking out. As promised, the lights inthe main ballroom have been dimmed, and I slip in, ducking behind two men who have just walked past my curtain.
"Hollywood is fooling himself if he thinks he and his brothers can keep Lady Ruby off the market for much longer," one says, and my ears feel like they're perking up. I hadn't expected to hear gossip so soon.
"She's here somewhere, I imagine she'll be in a red dress, of course."
"Red as the blood she'll shed wh—"
Someone bumps into me, and my hands come up to shield myself from them, as a man steps into my view.
"A dance, if you would be so kind?" He asks, his voice a light baritone that resonates through the air. I swallow and can't say no, not without being rude. He takes my hand before I can stop him, and he's pulling me into the fray, the crowd seething around me.
"Aren't you lovely," he murmurs, his body curling close to mine, his one arm pulled around my waist. His breath smells like wine, heavy and unpleasant against my cheek, and my heart starts to speed up. His fingers, seeking through the velvet of my dress, to cup my ass. I let out a startled noise of fear, and he laughs, a low chuckle that fills me with dread.
And memory.
I am struck still. Trapped.
"You remember this, don't you Eva? You loved this the most." His smiling face looks up at me as he shoulders between my thighs. Except I don't want it, This game stopped being fun months ago, and now I just want him to leave me alone. I lookaway, ashamed of what I've allowed him to do to me.
SLAP!
His hand cracks across my thigh.
"Look at me when I'm speaking, whore!"
I'm knocked from the past into the present as the man I dance with grabs me harder.
"All you bitches are the same," he hisses, silky tone turning foul, and I jerk out of his grip, running from him through the crowd, chased by memories and his touch. I need to be back in the safety of my room. I've flown too close to the sun.
A hand wraps around my wrist and tugs me around. I would scream, but it's him.
I would know him anywhere.
Even with a mask on.
Mason.
His eyes are shadowed behind his mask, but his touch is gentle on me, almost cherishing.
He bends down, and whispers into my ear.
"I would know you anywhere," he says, mirroring my thoughts. "And you're wearing my sister's dress."
My eyes slide shut. The rest of the world falls away, and I am here with him. Safe, and embraced. My throat closes up and I can't speak. His arm come around me.
"Dance with me?" It is a question, and I nod, knowing I could never refuse, not even after what passed between us in Tahoeand his efforts to ignore me since. When he's close, I am secure. I am more than I ever could be.
His body presses against mine, and all the fear, all of yesterday that haunts me, vanishes. There's only him, his scent, his skin. His cheek, the hint of stubble on it, brushes against my temple, and then his lips press there. It sparks off a series of trembles in me. I should be out hunting information down, not letting him hold me.
His life is in danger.
"Mason," my voice is shaky, rough, when I finally find it. I need to tell him.
His thumb comes up and brushes over my lips, hushing me.
"No names, not tonight. Not now." He holds me so close, I can feel him, and my cheeks heat up. He's hard, through his trousers, the cut of his suit jacket pulling away to tell me how much he wants me.
