Her victim was seriously hot. Not what she had expected at all.

Heart pounding in her chest, pulse bouncing all over the place, she stood in front of him like a dumbstruck fool, the men jostling her from behind, making her stumble. Reaching out she braced her hand on the wall, regained her footing and he rolled his eyes.

Shame filled her at the way he looked at her. Shame and a healthy dose of anger.

Accompanied by the teeniest, tiniest flicker of arousal, which she promptly ignored.

“Give her twenty bucks and she’ll take her bra off!”

“Shut up.” She shot the screamer a withering stare.

“Really?” Nate-dawg drawled, causing her to meet his mocking gaze. “What do I get for forty bucks?”

“I won’t do anything for less than a hundred,” she said, lifting her chin.

Take that, jackass.

“Would it be worth it if I gave you a hundred bucks?” He cocked a brow.

“I’d blow your mind for two hundred,” she promised, resting her hands on her hips. The image of her slowly peeling off her shirt, unhooking her bra, all while the man watched with those sexy, dark eyes was very appealing.

Janelle’s nipples pebbled beneath the fabric of her bra and she swallowed. Oooh, boy.

This was totally unlike her. Never before had she become aroused by a client watching her. She could admit she’d occasionally become aroused when she stripped, but it was more about the exhilaration of taking her clothes off and performing for someone. The thrill of making a man weak, basking in her feminine power.

Certainly not because she was sexually attracted to him.

“Sounds promising, though I’m not quite sure you’re worth it.” He held her gaze for a long, heated moment before he let it drop to her breasts.

His blatant perusal made her want to strip just for him. It also made her want to run away. Temptation warred within her, the urge to stick her tongue out like a bratty little girl and stomp off to pout in the corner so strong, she had to reel it in.

He was gorgeous. Beautiful dark eyes fringed with the longest, thickest lashes, chiseled cheekbones, a strong nose, firm jaw shadowed with the faintest hint of stubble and the most sculpted lips she’d ever seen on a man. Lips that would probably feel divine pressed against her own, trailing along her neck, over her chest…

Smoothing back an imaginary hair, she ignored the rather shocking thought of his mouth on her body and cleared her throat. “May I help you?”

He stood there silently, glancing about the store, his brown eyes wide. Shaking his head, he stepped backward, his arm moving behind him to shove the door open.

“This was a mistake. I should’ve never come in here.”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Are you lost? Do you need directions to another store perhaps?”

He turned his gaze upon her once more and her breath stalled in her throat. Really, no man should be as handsome as this one. Certainly no stranger had ever made her react like this one did. Heart beating against her chest, breathing shallow, skin tingling with awareness, all over a man she didn’t know.

“I’m not lost, just made a wrong turn. Sorry to bother you.” Making an attempt to leave, the man was thwarted by Johnny, who pulled the door open from behind him, forcing the handsome stranger farther into the store as he entered.

“Where’s that strange guy you called about, Celeste? Your hero is here to save the day.” Johnny grinned at her and the man scowled at Johnny.

Talk about bad timing.

“Isn’t that the magic of a ma-masquerade?” He smiled, the sight of it so beautiful her entire body ached.

He sounded nervous, which she found positively endearing. “Are you implying you’re not going to properly introduce yourself?” She arched a brow, wondering if he could see it beneath the delicate mask she wore.

He didn’t say a word. He merely twirled her about the floor and she had no choice but to follow his lead. He tightened his hand about her waist, pulling her closer, the heat from his body so alluring she couldn’t help but allow it.

Revel in it.

“Revealing myself—now where would the fun be in that?” He smiled, though his eyes remained dark. Intense.

Oh, the devil. Every other man she’d spoken to or danced with this evening had been most eager to offer his name, title if he had one and a complete family ancestry. It was rather exhausting, pretending to be interested in such matters.

Not a one of them interested her such as this man.

“Since I am your hostess, don’t you believe you should tell me who you are?” She fluttered her eyelashes, feeling foolish, but how else could she gather information from him?

“Let’s just say we knew each other long, long ago, though you never paid me much attention.”

“Well, then I was an absolute fool, wasn’t I?” Her mind raced. Who could he be? She’d known him? Was that the truth or an exaggeration? She’d met many young men during her debut season but her father had tied her up with Pomeroy rather quickly.

“P-perhaps I was the foolish one,” he said with a slight stutter, and she frowned.

Did he have an affliction? Or was it merely nerves? Whatever the case, she found it—him quite charming.

She breathed deep his spicy, masculine scent. The commanding manner in which he led her about the floor was most arousing. Now, if she could only discover who he might be…

The set ended too quickly for her taste. She reluctantly stepped away from his embrace, offering a polite curtsey. “Thank you so much for the delightful dance, my lord.” Instinct told her he was titled. A man who moved with such effortless yet commanding grace had to be.

“No, I should thank you, my lady.” He nodded in return then turned on his heel, instantly becoming swallowed by the crowd.

Her jaw dropped open in shock, she watched him retreat. He was a good head taller than many of those in attendance and pushed his way through the throng of revelers with ease, heading straight for the door. Without looking back, without offering even a single word to any of those he passed, he left the ballroom.

As quickly as he’d entered her life, he exited it. And still she didn’t know his name.