Nervous energy erupting in my body, I glanced away, suddenly very interested in the string quartet I spotted in the corner. Surely, this mystery man was just glancing at me, and I'd happened to look at him at just the right moment to make it seem like he'd been staring at me. Because guys who looked like that... well, they didn't usually notice me.
Not that I was down on myself. I really wasn't. Not anymore. I'd worked hard on accepting my body the way it was,right now, with cellulite, stretch marks, wiggly bits, all of it. And I knew I was beautiful inside and out.
However, the vast majority of the time, this superficial world we lived in didn't seem to notice my kind of beauty. Or the beauty of the women I designed for. And that was what made mework even harder, what drove me to work late nights and pour my heart and soul into every single piece.
Deliberately keeping my eyes away from him was nearly impossible. It was like trying not to look at a car accident, or not reading the last page of the book first, or... or...
Oh, screw it.
I looked.And he was still staring.
My heart jumped as we locked eyes, this time his stare almost aggressive. Aggressive? That seemed like an exaggeration.
But yes, that was exactly what it was. What on earth was that about?
Wait just a second. I'd seen that look before. Not directed at me. But at my sisters from the new men in their lives. And I could hardly believe it. Because if I wasn't mistaken, that look was... desire.
Desire? For little old me? If I had a fan, I would flutter it right about now. Was I feeling flirty? Were all my Midnight Masquerade dreams about to come true? I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
His look seemed to darken even more, his chiseled jaw clenching, and wow, that sent a pang of desire right between my legs.
"Ma'am," a person next to me whispered, drawing my attention away. A man in a mask handed me a small scroll. "For you."
Was it from my mystery man? I glanced over, but he was already gone, disappointment shooting through me at the loss.
So much for that.
I opened the scroll, remembering belatedly that there was supposed to be some kind of treasure hunt here tonight. Squinting in the dim lighting, I could barely make out the words.
At the ball where masks disguise and snowflakes gleam, find the hidden truth behind the silver sheen.
Hmm, silver sheen. Silver sheen. There was silver sheen everywhere tonight. What kind of clue was that?
"Speaking in riddles drives me insane," a deep, rumbly voice said beside me, making me jump a little in surprise.
Turning to see mystery man—mystery man!—beside me, I had to forcefully close my jaw so it didn't hang open. My shocked gaze took in his height, the breadth of his shoulders, the sheer masculinity pouring off him.
This man was even more ridiculously handsome up close, with sinfully dark eyes and a jaw that could cut glass, his full lips in a smirk that hinted at both danger and charm. He exuded an easy confidence, leaving me breathless and utterly tongue-tied. How embarrassing.
Think of something clever. Please, dear God.
"Me too."
Such sparkling wit. How will he ever resist me?
His eyes glinted with amusement. "I hear the grand prize is a midnight dance under the stars."
"Sounds kind of cold, if you ask me." Why, oh, why couldn't I think of something smart and cute to say?
"I promise to keep you warm."
Oh, my. Was he actuallyflirtingwith me? The sexiest man I'd ever seen? And I'd been around hundreds, maybe thousands, of male models. But this man... he somehow topped them all.
"Okay, um, that's assuming we win. Or you win. Or, uh, I—" Every angle was awful. Saying we, implying he'd want to partner up. Saying you, even worse, assuming he'd askmeto dance, and saying I, which would mean I'd have to outright ask him to be my dance date.
"I'm not assuming anything. Iknowwe'll win," he said smoothly.
Damn. To have that kind of confidence. And holy cow, he'd saidwe.We. Once again, I was struck speechless.
