“I appreciate the invitation, but it’s just not possible.” Once I returned home, I needed to find an apartment and a job and check in on my aunt. Nervous anxiety squeezed my stomach. I didn’t want to think about real life. Not yet. Not until I had no other choice.
Across the room, the dark stranger ended his conversation with the busty woman and strode toward us like a shark slicing through a school of fish. The crowd parted for him then closed in his wake. A wave of heat swept up my chest and into my neck before settling in my face.
“Tell me your name. Please.” Nicky took my hand, drawing my attention back to him. “I’m begging you.”
“Don’t beg, Nicky. It’s embarrassing,” the stranger said.
I placed a hand on my stomach to steady my breathing as his cologne reached my nose. The spicy, masculine, and hypnotic scent conjured images of tangled limbs and fingers clutched in bedsheets.
Nicky turned and said something low and guttural in Russian to the stranger. Although my Russian was rusty, I caught a few snippets of profanity and the phrase don’t mess with me.
The stranger laughed before turning to me. “I apologize. We’re being rude.”
“Are you speaking Russian?” I asked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand much.”
“Just as well. It’s an uncivilized language,” the stranger said. His stern smile signaled the end of the topic. “I’m about to go for a walk. Would you like to accompany me?”
Nicky touched my elbow. “Don’t fall for his pretty words. You can’t trust him.”
“Walk away, Nicky,” the man said. From behind the edges of his plain black mask, dark eyes glittered dangerously.
“No, I don’t think so.” The younger man squared his shoulders.
“I’m not asking.”
Nicky sighed, his tone turning petulant. “You’re breaking the rules.”
“Ah, but you forget. I make the rules.” The stranger’s posture straightened, his height growing. The cut of his tuxedo suggested a powerful chest beneath his tailored lapels.
“Did you ever happen to think that maybe she’s not interested?” Nicky’s voice teemed with irritation.
“And maybe she is. Did you ever think of that?” the stranger asked.
“Gentlemen, please stop talking about me like I’m not in the room,” I said, finding my voice at last. Both men had the good grace to look abashed.
“Again, I apologize,” said the stranger, his eyes locking with mine. Something about this dark man lit a fire in my veins. I wanted to know more. Who was he? Why was he here? What had he done to gain an invitation?
“I’d love a tour,” I said. “Nicky and I were about to say goodnight anyway.”
“Can I have a word in private?” Nicky ducked his head to my ear, speaking too low for the stranger to hear. “Are you sure about this? He’s not the kind of man to be trifled with. You might find yourself in over your head.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself.”
Nicky glared at the stranger, a silent conversation passing between them. Then his gaze turned to me. After an awkward pause, he let go of my hand and bowed. “It’s been a pleasure, Cinderella. I hope our paths cross again soon.”
“Goodnight,” I replied. “Thank you for your company this evening.” With long strides, he crossed the ballroom and disappeared into the hallway. Part of me was sad to see him go, but the other part felt relief. Nothing could come of our relationship. It was best to end things before it became too messy. As much as I liked Nicky, I preferred the company of the dark man at my elbow. His attention made me uneasy and exhilarated, like those precious moments of anticipation before a rollercoaster plunged over the first hill.
“Cinderella? Interesting choice of names.” He closed the distance between us until his shiny shoes rested next to my sandals.
“Yes. I like it. And you are?” Dangerous. The answer flashed through my head. I pushed away the assumption. Nothing about this man seemed threatening, except to my ovaries, which had begun a dance of excitement.
“My friends say I’m the devil.” Once again, he took my hand in his. The intimate glide of his fingers between mine unleashed a repressed longing to feel those fingers elsewhere on my body. “But I suppose if you’re Cinderella, then I’ll be your Prince Charming.”
“That’s a little presumptuous, isn’t it?” I baited him in an uncharacteristically flirtatious tone, my confidence buoyed by Nicky’s attentions and too much champagne.
“It’s not presumptuous. It’s a truth. That’s something you should know about me. I only deal with facts.”
Somehow, in the space of our conversation, we’d drifted toward one of the curtained alcoves along the perimeter of the room. When the curtain closed behind us with a whisper of velvet, and the bright colors of the ballroom dimmed into candlelit darkness, I realized I was alone with a man I didn’t know. A very tall, ominous man, whose broad shoulders and penetrating stare dwarfed the room. Nicky’s words echoed back to me. He’s not the kind of man to be trifled with. I swallowed a frisson of fear, as intoxicating as it was disturbing. No need to freak out. The party continued outside the alcove. Help was only a few feet away.
“I thought we were going for a walk.” My gaze flicked to the heavy drapes, judging the distance in case I should need a hasty escape.
“Later. First, I want to know more about you.” His hooded gaze traveled over my face, lingering for two heartbeats on my lips. How many nights had I dreamed of a man like this—one who’d thrill and frighten me? He braced a hand on the wall by my head, hemming me in. Up close, he smelled of leather, expensive cologne, and fine, rare things.
“There isn’t much to tell really,” I said, my knees weakening. Although his nearness set my senses on high alert, I didn’t feel threatened, just aroused.
“You’re an American?”
“Yes, a New Yorker.” I bit my lower lip to keep from giving away more than I wanted.
“Why did you come to this party?” He leaned closer, edging me backward until the hard paneling chilled my backside.
“Why does anyone come to these parties?” I asked, feeling lightheaded at his closeness.
“To enjoy anonymity in a safe and nonjudgmental atmosphere. To experience decadence without the threat of discovery.”
“You sound like a travel magazine.” I pressed my palms against the wall at my sides and reveled in the escalation of my pulse.
“People come from all over the world for this experience. There are places here—secret places—with access given to only a select few. I can take you there. We can explore those mysteries together.” He drew in a deep breath, angling his head and scenting me. The primitive gesture caused an immediate pulse in my sex. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“Yes,” I said, feeling weak-kneed, excited, and frightened in rapid succession. “To all those things. I want to experience all of that.”
“Let me show you everything your heart desires.” The low, seductive music of his voice and an excess of champagne dulled my common sense. I had the distinct feeling I was being seduced by Satan, and the safety of my soul hovered in the balance. “Well, Cinderella, will you join me?”