Chapter 1

“Another glass of champagne, sir?” the waiter asked, holding out a silver tray crowded with crystal flutes bubbling over with golden liquid.

“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, plucking one of the slender glasses from the tray.

“Cheers to overpriced booze and overdressed bar flies,” I told my stepcousin and business partner, Fury, as I tipped my glass toward him.

His wolfish grin was visible even behind the black and gold masquerade mask covering half his face as he let out a barking laugh, the sound drowned out by the steady thump of club music dominating the ballroom.

“I’ll definitely drink to that, cuz,” he said. “Especially the bar fly part. Have you seen some of the hotties in this place tonight?”

He wasn’t wrong. The Annual Silicon Valley Tech Charity Gala brought out all the usual suspects - models, actresses, and Instagram influencers hoping to bag themselves a billionaire tech nerd sugar daddy. Tonight’s theme was “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and most of the women had really committed to a dramatic look, with wispy multi-colored gowns, wings, and flowers woven into intricate up-dos. Meanwhile, us dudes had almost universally gone the “Phantom of the Opera” route. Can’t beat a classic black suit and a mask to hide our faces behind.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I said as I adjusted my simple black mask, the edges digging into my cheeks. “The question is, have they noticed you? Or can they not see past the mask covering up your ugly mug?”

“Har har,” Fury said dryly, scanning the sea of partiers around us. “All I know is my dance card for the night is already filling up fast. That little redhead by the chocolate fountain has been eyeing me hard for the last ten minutes. And the brunette in the sparkly green dress over by the string quartet just slipped me her number while you were in the bathroom.”

“Look at you, Mr. Popular.” I shook my head, laughing. “Meanwhile, I’ll be hanging out here seeing how many of these tiny crab puff things I can shove in my mouth before someone tries to talk shop with me.”

“Oh, come on,” Fury scoffed. “I’ve already seen at least three babes check you out since we arrived. You’re Cory McCrae, the founding partner of Gracen and McCrae. You’re telling me you can’t snag any of these ladies for a dance or two?”

I shrugged, gulping down more champagne. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the opposite sex made me slightly, uh...nervous. And parties like this were breeding grounds for anxiety. Too many strangers vying for my attention. Too many overly direct women who think that a guy like me - decent looking enough in a sort of standard business casual way, with what the finance magazines called an “impressive” career trajectory - should be prime bait.

Truth be told, I was only here because Fury had persuaded me to appear since we were trying to reel in new clients. At least the open bar made schmoozing with the Silicon Valley elite slightly more tolerable. Like right now, for instance, pleasantly buzzed on Taittinger and stuffed with mini quiches, this whole scene felt less like my own personal 9th Circle of Hell.

“Here, more liquid courage,” Fury said, pressing another full champagne flute into my hand. “Now, chug that bad boy, and let’s dive back into the mingling madness.”

Before I could protest, he was disappearing into the writhing crowd of bodies gyrating under the neon strobe lights, making a beeline for a statuesque blonde swaying in a slit-up-to-there red gown. I watched him sidle up to the woman, saying something in her ear that made her tip back her head and laugh.

Yep, and just like that, my wingman had flown the coop.

Sighing, I scanned the crowds, giving my tie a nervous little half-Windsor adjustment. As I people-watched, a striking woman suddenly caught my eye from across the room. Or at least I assumed she was striking - all I could really see behind her filmy purple mask dotted with crystals was a pair of intense amber eyes lined in kohl.

I realized with a jolt she was staring straight at me.

Quickly looking away, I downed more champagne. Smooth, McCrae. Real smooth. Nothing sexier than sudden awkward eye contact from across a crowded party.

Still, I couldn’t resist sneaking another glance. This time, she didn’t look away. And was that the hint of a smile playing about those pouty, purple-painted lips?

Before I knew it, I was floating towards her, this mysterious woman who had me in her thrall. There was just something about her, an irresistible allure that had my feet moving of their own accord. She was all luscious curves poured into a shimmery dress the color of a ripe grape, her cascade of dark curls bouncing across her bare, golden shoulders as she swayed to the music. I was a hapless sailor caught in the siren call of her rhythm.

Stop being fucking weird, Cory. I gave myself a mental slap, hanging back on the edge of the dance floor. Downing the last drops of liquid courage, I looked anywhere but at the mystery woman. The ice sculpture of Puck and Titania. The chocolate fountain I wanted to dive head-first into. The pair of bankers talking derivatives markets in the corner.

Still, I could feel her gaze still lingering on me, prickling my skin.

You’re imagining things, dude. Get a grip. She’s just people-watching like you. I loosened my tie, feeling suddenly suffocated. Too many bodies pressed close, clogging up the air. Too hot. Were those damn strobe lights actually getting brighter?

I had to get out of here.

Shoving my way past the throngs of people, I finally reached the gloriously empty outdoor terrace. I sucked in a huge gulp of crisp night air, instantly feeling the champagne haze in my brain dissipate. I undid my painfully tight shoes and let my toes rest for a bit. Ahh, sweet relief.

My heart rate slowly returned to normal as the distant thump of music and party chatter from inside was drowned out by the soothing gurgle of a stone fountain. Floating lanterns bobbed lazily in the tiny pond, casting ripples of soft golden light that danced across the flagstones under my feet.

Leaning my elbows on the carved railing edging the terrace, I stared out over the perfectly manicured gardens below, getting lost in the sculpted hedges and flower beds, which during the day probably smelled amazing right about now with that jasmine vine and -

“Well, hello there, stranger.”

I just about leaped out of my skin as a throaty feminine voice suddenly spoke behind me. Whirling around wildly, I found myself face-to-face with the mystery woman, the fountain light catching glints of amber fire in those cat-like eyes.

“Oh geez, I uh...hi,” I stammered out oh-so-smoothly.

“I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack,” she said, her lips twitching beneath that purple mask. Was she actually having a laugh at my expense?

“No, no, it’s all good. I just...didn’t hear you coming,” I babbled like an absolute buffoon, my palms turning into mini swimming pools, while this bombshell of a woman stood there cool as a cucumber.

She took a step closer, and I could feel my brain cells desperately trying to regroup as I continued to trip over my own words.

“It’s just...you know...these shoes...” I gestured vaguely at my shiny wingtips. Wow, yes, tell her all about your boring footwear. What a great conversation starter. Gold star for you!

Rather than retreating from the blabbering dork in the mask (yours truly), she moved even closer, which was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Mmm, I spotted those classy shoes of yours earlier,” she practically purred, sending a jolt of confusion through me.

Was this breathtaking woman actually flirting with me? My ears felt like they were on fire beneath the mask, and I could barely contain my bewilderment.

“Uh, about earlier,” I stammered, finally finding my voice. “I, uh, I kind of noticed you checking me out a few times.”

Smooth, Romeo. Real smooth. She probably thinks I’m a creep now. But instead, she laughed lightly, the sound low and musical and incredibly sexy.

“Busted, I suppose. You got me there.” She propped her impeccable hip against the railing nonchalantly, looking like she’d been born to lean on things with effortless grace. “How could I not spot you when you strolled in with your friend? Two good-looking guys, although no mask in the universe could hide how awkward you felt in this whole shindig.”

My stomach took a strange little somersault. Geez, was it that noticeable? So much for my attempts to keep it chill and act like I fit right in, mingling with the Silicon Valley VIPs and stunners.

“Yeah, this isn’t exactly my usual scene,” I admitted with an awkward little laugh. “My business partner made me come. Cozying up clients is usually his department.”

“Well, aren’t you just the dutiful partner?”

The way she looked at me from behind that mask was like she was staring straight through me, seeing things no one else could see. It was unnerving and thrilling.

I fumbled for a smooth reply. “What about you? Is schmoozing with the tech nerds in masks your usual idea of a fun Friday night?”

Okay, a semi-decent comeback. I considered it progress.

She laughed again. “I don’t know if I’d call it fun necessarily. But it’s not without its...perks.”

She reached out and boldly adjusted my tie, smoothing it between nimble fingers. I froze at her sudden touch, my breath catching sharply in my chest. She smelled amazing- like jasmine and cinnamon, some fancy perfume I couldn’t name but instantly loved.

“There. Much better,” she said softly. Had she somehow drifted even closer? Mere inches separated us now. I stared into those hypnotic tiger eyes glowing behind her mask. Was I imagining the sudden electricity charging the night air between us?

I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Gulped. Tried one more time.

“Would you, uh...” Oh god. Was my voice actually cracking? I coughed, willing it an octave lower. “Would you maybe like to, you know...dance?”

I held my breath, watching her reaction. She went still, those amazing eyes searching mine for a long moment. My heart pounded so loud, surely, in the sudden silence, she could hear it, too.

A smile slowly spread across her face, and she leaned in close. Her fingers grazed my sweaty palm, and she breathed one simple word into my ear:

“Maybe...”