It was him.

She felt giddy. Her stomach flipped over as she set her eyes on him again.  He still wore the mask, but he’d removed his jacket and vest. The sight of him with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tanned, muscular forearms bared to the elbow as he bent over the table was quite possibly the most erotic thing she’d seen in ages. 

She watched his long, graceful stroke, and felt an impulsive urge to join him.

When the idea should have scared her —would have stopped her if she were anywhere but here—all of a sudden she realized tonight was different. This was a masquerade. Everyone was in disguise, and she was sure he didn’t know her…would never know her. The security of that fact made her feel bolder behind her mask. After all, she was here to have one night of fun, right?

He looked up, but slowly as if he’d known she was there the whole time.

Her heart stopped beating just long enough to watch one corner of his broad mouth lift as he inclined his head. His dark gaze dipped to her breasts and made a slow, deliberate journey over the barest parts of her and then up to her face. Her flesh tingled as his perusal continued and she forgot to breathe. It was almost as if he could see right through her mask and knew her identity.

Of course, that couldn’t be true, and she forced the sudden anxiety from her mind. At the same time, however, the gleam in his dark eyes stirred a different warning. 

He was a dangerous man. A predator.  The type who hunted by laying in wait for his quarry to approach before he pounced…and ravaged…and feasted.
The thought gave her a delicious shudder.

Copyright ® 2006 - 2007

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