“A few times.” He fell into step beside me. “No one turns away an invitation unless they want to offend the host, and Mr. Menshikov doesn’t like to be offended.” His eyes watched me with the sharpness of a hawk watching a mouse. The predatory nature of his stare raised the tiny hairs on my arms.
“Are you a celebrity?” I kept my tone light and teasing but cast a glance in the direction of the ladies’ room, judging the distance.
“In some circles.” A dimple popped on his right cheek. “Mostly I’m here because I have friends in high places.”
“Are you a friend of Mr. Menshikov?” My sense of self-preservation went to war with my curiosity. I wanted to know more about the enigmatic host without giving too much of myself in return.
“Friends?” The sharpness in his laugh made me flush. Obviously, I’d crossed an invisible boundary. “Roman doesn’t have friends.”
“Ivan said he’s not here tonight.” I stopped walking and gave my full attention to Nicky, hoping to coax more information from him. “Do you know him? Roman, I mean?”
“I don’t think anyone truly knows Roman.” Mystery edged his words. Mistaking my curiosity for the host as interest in him personally, he smiled and took my hand again. He lifted it to look at the ring on my little finger. Delicate strands of silver and gold vines twisted together to form a circle. Amethysts sprinkled throughout the band like tiny flowers. “Your ring—it’s very unique.”
“It belonged to my mother,” I said, running my thumb over it. “My father had it made for her when I was born.”
“Ah, how romantic.” He stroked the band with a fingertip, the light pressure tickling along my skin. “Speaking of romantic, would you like to take a walk in the garden? There are all kinds of entertainers down there. There’s nothing I love more than a moonlight stroll with a beautiful woman.” He leaned down, his tone lowering. “Someone said there are naked performers dancing through fire. How can you pass up a chance to see something like that?”
Although his charm was infectious, I shrank away from the opportunity. I didn’t want to blow my cover. A few yards away, Everly lifted an eyebrow. Although she didn’t speak, I knew her well enough to understand the message. Get your ass out there. Live a little.
I squared my shoulders. “Thank you so much for the invitation, but I think I’d like to dance some more.” Dancing was safe. With the music swelling and the hum of conversation and laughter surrounding us, there was little opportunity for questions I didn’t want to answer.
“Fair enough.” He bent low in a deep bow. “May I have the honor of this dance?”
For the next several hours, I danced with Nicky until my feet ached, drank champagne until my head swam, and laughed until my insides quivered. He was delightful, although his prodding questions required my skillful avoidance.
“Who is that man?” I asked, having caught sight of a gentleman near the fireplace, his forearm resting on the mantle. Although I couldn’t see his eyes behind his mask, I felt the weight of his relentless gaze following us around the room as we danced. The curling edges of his dark hair hung to his collar, its messiness at odds with the crisp lines of his tuxedo.
“Where?” Nicky followed the incline of my head. “Oh.” For the first time, he missed a step. His shoulders tensed beneath my touch, the smile sliding from his face before he recovered. “I’m not sure. He could be anyone.”
Was it my imagination, or had I heard a touch of Russian accent in Nicky’s reply? “He keeps staring at us.”
“Probably because you’re so beautiful,” Nicky said. In an adept maneuver, he directed us toward the opposite end of the room. Within minutes, I forgot about the stranger, too focused on following Nicky’s lead and the heady exhilaration of being held by such a charismatic guy.
“It’s getting late, and I have to leave soon,” he said, leading me toward the row of chairs along the wall. “I know it’s against the rules, but I can’t go without learning your name—your real name.”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” I said, still breathless from his touch and the physical exertion.
“But you can. It’s just a stupid rule Roman invented for his own amusement. You can tell me. No one has to know.” He squeezed my hand tighter, his jaw tightening. “I want to see you again.”
“No. You can’t.” At the flicker of hurt in his eyes, I softened my refusal. After all, he seemed like a nice guy. “There’s no point.”
“You’re married?” His grip loosened on my fingers.
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just that I’m going back to America in a few days.” Behind his mask, his eyes searched mine. I fisted my hands, resisting the urge to brush his light brown hair from his forehead.
“I travel to the States frequently. I could look you up. We could have dinner, and you could show me the sights.”
“Excuse me, may I cut in?” A smooth, deep voice sliced into our conversation. From his accent, he was American, a New Yorker or somewhere on the east coast.
Nicky and I both turned to face the stranger. A black leather mask prevented me from going further than the curve of full, pouting lips. My gaze traveled from the onyx buttons of his charcoal vest down the perfect crease of his dark gray trousers to the shiny, pointed toes of his black shoes. Unlike the other formally attired guests, the tail of his silver bow tie dangled from the breast pocket of his jacket. The lack of formality seemed out of place and rebellious in a room overflowing with perfection.
“We were having a conversation,” Nicky said, his tone acidic. The change in his demeanor caught me by surprise. I glanced from him to the stranger. A palpable air of animosity pulsed between them.
“Watch your manners, Nicky.” The stranger’s light rebuke reminded me of a parent scolding a rebellious child. “Please forgive him. He’s been running with the wolves for too long.”
“At least I’m still running.” There was no mistaking the competitive edge in his words.
My gaze bounced between the two men. Whatever their relationship, it was complicated and intriguing.
“Not here. Not now. Not in front of our lovely companion.” While he spoke, his dark eyes locked onto mine. He took my hand in his long, graceful fingers, his smooth palm gliding against mine, and lifted my knuckles to his mouth. My heart stopped at the brush of his soft lips on my skin. In the background, the introduction to a tango began. “Dance with me.”
Three words sent my pulse into overdrive. “The tango used to be my favorite, but I haven’t done it in years.” I panicked at the thought of the intricate moves.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” After another kiss to my knuckles, he led me to the center of the dance floor. The guests parted, making way for us, their eyes heavy on my back. I couldn’t blame their stares. This man exuded confidence, elegance, and power. He placed my left hand on his waist and took the right in his palm. Shying away from his gaze, I stared at his throat. The top two buttons of his crisp white shirt gaped open, revealing a triangle of smooth, tanned skin dusted with black hair. He squeezed my hand, demanding my attention. “Eyes to mine. Don’t look at your feet. Follow my lead.”