Masquerade - Cara Lockwood Page 0,2

out into the cool summer night in Stockholm. In the distance, Asha could see Strömmen, the innermost part of Saltsjön, a bay of the Baltic Sea. Warm lights dotted the shore of the bay, making it look magical.

Durand closed the heavy, ornate double doors behind them, and then they were alone on the stone balcony, but as darkness never truly fell in Stockholm on summer nights, the ever-present never-quite-set sun meant they needed no man-made lights to see each other. Beneath the gray, slightly pink sky, she noticed the balcony had another, smaller side door, and she wondered where it led.

“Okay, you’re right. I crashed your party and I’m sorry,” Asha said, hoping that a little groveling might help her case. She needed to find Connor. That is, if he hadn’t seen her already and booked it out of there. “Surely you have room for one more guest? I’d be happy to pay my way. Of course.”

Durand chuckled, the smallest of sounds at the back of his throat. “I do not need your money, Ms. Patel.”

“Really?” She’d discovered that the one truth in life was that money always talked. And opened doors. And some of the oldest money families sometimes were the poorest. After all, a few of the most famous royal families in the world were happy to use her private jets. She shifted slightly, and she watched as his eyes trailed down her bare shoulder.

“Really.” He cocked his head to one side, curious. “What brings you to my party?” She caught the note of possessiveness in his tone. My party. There was no mistaking it. “And, please, if we could dispense with the lies and...ah...the theatrics?”

Says the man hiding his face behind a gilded mask.

She glanced up at him, his full face still shrouded by that damn mask, and was tempted to lie. For fun. For a laugh. But she had a feeling this man would see through any petty lies. For once in her life, she decided she’d be honest.

“I’m trying to find Connor Henry. I do know him. He’s my...” She hesitated to say boyfriend, since they hadn’t been dating that long. Plus, after she caught him with his lingerie model, he’d be an ex-boyfriend. “Well, we had an understanding. He’s deceived me, and he’s come here with a woman he also lied to me about, and I want to catch him in that lie.”

And make him grovel, and then tell him he’s lost me before he ever really had me. Dramatic? Maybe, but he deserves it.

Durand lifted the mask from his face, and Asha’s breath caught a little at the back of her throat. The man made gorgeous look ugly. Strong jawline, slim, straight nose, clear blue eyes that looked even darker in the grayish light of never-quite-dusk, even though she knew it was close to midnight.

“That is unfortunate. But I am afraid I cannot let you stay.” He shook his head slowly, eyes solemn. It took a moment to realize this walking sex god was actually denying her.

“Why not?”

“This is a members only event. You must be a member of the Sphinx Society in order to mingle here.”

Asha laughed, bright and brittle, but seeing the serious look on Durand’s face, she realized her mistake. He was serious.

“What is the Sphinx Society? Some kind of sex club?”

Now it was Durand’s turn to laugh. “Hardly. It’s one of the oldest societies in the world. We helped build this hotel. You know, in that ballroom the very first Nobel Prize ceremony and award banquet was held in 1901?”

“Really?” Asha faked interest. She cared little about history, unless it concerned her personally. What could dusty old facts do to help her, anyway? What she wanted to do was get into that ballroom and find Connor. And if kissing up to this exceptionally sexy Frenchman was the way to do it, then she would. She actually didn’t mind, truth be told. She loved pretty things. Durand was the one who ought to be the movie star. She moved closer to the man, eyes never leaving his. If he wasn’t interested in money, then maybe he was interested in her attention. Most men were. And she wasn’t afraid to take advantage, either. “Tell me more.”

Durand’s dark eyebrows raised a millimeter. She bit her lip, and he studied her mouth. Good.

“The King of Sweden uses this hotel for his official business, as do all the Swedish royals,” Durand said.

“Tell me more about the Sphinx Society.” She ran one perfect red nail