Page 80 of Her Wolf

He wore a fanciful mask that covered his whole face, one half happy, the other sad. The eye slits cast deep shadows over his eyes.

She heard a noise come from him. Had he said something? It was impossible to tell; just as little of his mouth was visible under the mask.

“Did you say something?” she yelled.

He leaned closer, the cool surface of his mask brushing her cheek as he spoke into her ear.

“I said I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the man said.

His voice sent a tremble through her. It was rich and sonorous, arrogant almost.

She turned slightly toward him, putting her mouth by his ear. “You didn’t,” came her immediate reply.

She caught a whiff of his spicy cologne.

His hair was long, dark and shaggy.

Just like the man’s from the restaurant.

Or had his been brown?

It was too dark in here, in the ballroom. What light there was bounced around the crowd like a playful puppy, spinning and dancing on everyone’s faces when they turned to cheer on the DJ.

But when the man’s eyes returned from their slow inspection of her body, a jolt went through her.

It was him, the man who’d been haunting her dreams the past few days.

And, suddenly, those erotic memories didn’t feel as tantalizing anymore.

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