I freeze momentarily when my eyes trail over August, who’s schmoozing a group of men near the center of the room. He’s dressed as a prince in a full dress uniform, sash and all.
Ofcoursehe is.
Annoyance erupts through my bloodstream, hating that he’s here. It makes it worse that he’s dressed like a prince when he’s anything but. Especially since I chose a princess for my own costume.
What are the odds?
Removing my phone from the hidden pocket in my dress, I text Sly, knowing he’s the only person who can calm my irritation.
I wish you were here.
His reply comes through immediately, and instant relief washes over me.
Are you missing me, piccola ladra?
So much. This week has been torture.
As I stare down at my phone, awaiting the text bubble to appear, a man steps in front of me.
“May I have this dance?” he asks, placing his hand out for me to take. When I glance up, I realize he looks vaguely familiar, though I can’t recall why.
Hesitantly, I tuck my phone back into my pocket and place my hand in his. “Sure.”
Raina winks at me as he guides me away from her, clearly approving.
“Thank you for agreeing to this dance,” the man says, turning to face me. We get into a slow dance position as the song changes. “My name is Alistair Emmons. My father has told me a lot about you.”
It dawns on me why this man looks familiar—he has the same sparkle in his green eyes as his father does.
“And how is my good friend Ansel?” I ask, glancing around to see if I spot him. “Is he here?”
“Unfortunately, my mother has a head cold, so they’ve stayed home. My younger brother and I are here on their behalf, and I promised my father I would seek you out for a dance. He said—and I quote—‘if you see her standing on the sidelines, or in the arms of a man she clearly is not interested in dancing with, you must go to her.’ So, true to my word, here I am.”
“Your father thinks I’m a damsel in distress,” I quip as he spins me.
Alistair is extremely handsome, dressed as a superhero, in a leotard that leaves little to the imagination. He looks to be in his mid to late thirties, with emerald eyes, and milk chocolate hair, with sun-kissed lighter pieces, whose strands are longer on top and styled back perfectly. He has a dusting of facial hair, as though it’s just growing back after being clean-shaven for so long.
“I can see that you’re not,” he tells me, dipping me low before pulling me back to a stand. “You command the room—it’s very obvious to see.”
I blush, even though it doesn’t feel like he’stryingto flirt with me, and change the subject. “You said you’re here with your younger brother? What is his name? Ansel hasn’t told me much about his life, other than he has three sons.”
“Well, you have the pleasure of dancing with the oldest right now.” He winks. “As I said, my youngest brother, Jasper, is here with me. Our other brother is out of the country right now. His name is Ledger.”
“And what is it that all of you do for a living, Alistair?”
His lips purse, and he gets a mischievous look in his eye just as the song changes. Suddenly, the man dressed as The Phantom of the Opera appears to our left, his hand outstretched in my direction.
He says nothing, but as our gazes collide, my heart stops. A gasp of air leaves me and I bite my lip to keep the emotion off my face.
Alistair looks from me to the man in the mask, then takes a step back. “It seems as though you have a newsuitor.” He bows and kisses the top of my hand. “It was a pleasure dancing with you, Miss Paladino. Thank you for allowing me to keep my word to my father.”
Then he’s gone, sinking into the crowd as The Phantom steps closer. His hand engulfs my hip while the other clasps around mine, holding it outward as we start to move.
“What are you doing here?” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. I trail my hand lightly down the front of his tuxedo, just enough to touch him, but not enough to raise suspicion if someone was to see.
“I needed to dance with you, piccola ladra. To hold you out in the open for all to see, at least once.” Sly keeps his smooth voice low, speaking only to me. “You look breathtaking.”
There’s no way to keep the smile off my face from the happiness I’m feeling. The risk of him being here is unimaginable, but now that I’m in his arms, none of it matters. I pretend as though the repercussions cease to exist—that we’re not standing in the same room as my entire family, and that I’m not falling even deeper in love with him than I ever thought possible.
