Chapter 2

Ifelt my face heat for a whole slew of other reasons that had nothing to do with the champagne.

After that, he didn't speak for long seconds, but he did stare at me. The shadows concealed what little I could see of his masked face. But the longer he watched me, the more intensely I felt his eyes penetrating.

It was as if he was trying to figure me out. But I didn't get an off feeling from him. There were no red flags popping up, no warning bells.

I was solely blaming this crazy arousal I felt on the champagne and the fact that I hadn't gotten laid in years.

"Anthony," he finally said.

It took me a moment to realize he was answering me.

He walked over and sat beside me. The concentrated scent of his cologne was pleasantly overpowering, and I actually swayed slightly.

The bench I sat on was big enough. He could have put enough space between us that we weren't touching. But he was so close to me that his arm was pressed against mine, his thigh adding pressure to my leg.

I couldn't lie. It felt really good.

"How long have you been working for the company?"

I could still feel him looking at me, although I was staring into the banquet hall and watching all the people to distract me from the hot man sitting beside me.

I didn't know why this man made me feel so on-edge. It was like something sparked inside me, like my dead and absent libido had finally woken up and said, "Bitch, alert! Fuckable, sizzling-hot man sitting right next to you!"

I cleared my throat and smoothed my hands down my dress before looking at him. "Six months. I work in data entry, so I feel a little out of place here, since I don't interact with anyone except the few in my office."

I wasn't sure why I admitted that last part or told him what department I worked in.

I eyed him up and down, the glow of light from the banquet hall making me see him a little more clearly now. His mask covered from his eyes, down to his chin. It was completely black aside from the gold filigree design that lined the edge of the mask.

"Everyone in a company is an integral part of running the machine."

His words seemed… genuine.

I focused on all the things I saw right in front of me instead of how his words made me feel.

I could see he had a beard, the same salt-and-pepper mix as his hair. It looked thick but well-groomed. My fingers tingled and twitched to reach up and pull the mask down. I just had to know what he looked like.

Not that it would make a difference, because I didn't know any Anthony at the company.

He shifted so his body faced me a little bit more. The position was lazy. Almost arrogant.

"Pyper," he said my name in a low purr, this deep huskiness laced within it. "I saw you in there." He tipped his chin toward the party. "You were standing all alone, drinking your champagne with those little hands with red-painted nails."

I glanced down at said fingers and the manicure I'd gotten yesterday because I knew I'd be coming to the party. I curled them into my palms, a sudden wave of shyness overtaking me.

"No need to hide," he drawled lazily.

This man exuded whiskey and silk, mahogany and suede.

Oh, for fuck's sake. Now I'm comparing him to shit?

I had no doubt in my mind he was important to the company. Obviously, he was someone's boss. Hello—he had that swagger and cockiness to him that said as much.

"I watched you long enough to know that you're here alone. That you're not wearing any jewelry from a boyfriend. No ring from a husband."

My heart was racing faster now. God, how long had he been watching me? That should have scared the hell out of me and had me standing up and walking right back into that crowded room. There was safety in numbers.

But I stayed right where I was, and when he leaned in, I felt my eyelids droop a little, felt my breathing increase more.

"You're single," he said matter-of-factly, like he knew me better than I knew myself.

"Excuse me?" I sat up straighter, feeling my brows lower under my mask.

"I'm single."

I didn't miss how he steamrolled over my question. I also didn't think too hard on why that short sentence rolling off his tongue had my inner thighs clenching on their own and my pulse throbbing right between my legs.

"Do you normally approach random women like this and give them your relationship status?" I kept my words light, but there was an undertone of letting him know if he thought I was some easy lay, he was mistaken.

Is he though? Shut up!

He chuckled deeply. Roughly. Goddamn him for the way he made me light up on the inside.

"You're witty," he said, all humor gone from his voice. "It turns me on." Huskier now. More serious.

I was taken aback in the best way, if I were being totally fucking honest.

He didn't speak. Not for a long while. So long that I shifted on the bench, trying not to let his very presence affect me as much.

"Tell me you are," he demanded softly.

It took me a moment to realize what he meant. Then it clicked. My mouth dried, and I licked my lips. I shouldn't have told him anything, but at the same time, I'd never felt so good. I felt high, drunk, and like I was living another life. I never thought about doing things recklessly, but I knew without a doubt what this man wanted.

Me.

He exuded that like the addicting cologne he wore.

I made a split-second decision—one I knew would shape everything going forward. Maybe for the better. Maybe for worse.

Either way, I was going for it.

"Yes. I'm turned on too," I whispered.

The sound that came from him was unlike anything I could've described aside from saying it was masculine and needy.

"Come with me," he ordered, as if he'd been expecting that answer. When he stood and held his hand out, I slipped mine into his and allowed him to help me up.

This was surreal.

I felt lightheaded, my knees wobbly, but I'd never felt more alive in my entire life.

And as I followed Anthony out, the only sensation I felt was watching myself become someone else.

Someone I was excited to meet.