Page 50 of His Haunted Desire
“Amen to that.”
I return to the party. The man with my mask swaggers over, clearly far past the point of drunk, and punches me on the arm. It’s supposed to be a playful jab, but he puts too much oomph into it.
“Aye,” he says loudly. “Ya stole my look!”
“I’m sorry about that, buddy,” I tell him, giving him a not-so-playful jab in return.
I find Aurora standing in a circle of guests, gesturing with her glass of champagne as she speaks. I move up beside her. “Get bored with the table?” I ask.
“Shh, I’m telling everyone how obsessed I was the moment I saw you… unless you’re tired of hearing this story?”
I smile down at her. The mask might as well not be there. It’s like I see through it, see her gorgeous, ecstatic features instead, her broad smile, her reddened cheeks.
“I’ll never tire of hearing that,” I say, chuckling.
“We tried to play it cool,” she goes on, turning to the guests as she fluidly wraps her arm around me.
No one watching would ever guess we’ve only just started being romantic, that we only just met, really.
“I don’t like to go on andonabout it,” Aurora says. “But he had me hooked without even saying a word. It started with a look… it was like he knew me without me having to say a word. Knew everything about me, the good and the bad, and accepted it all. It was magical.”
The other guests gaze at me, their masks hiding half their expressions, but it seems like awe, like jealousy, like they wish they could have something as meaningful as this.
Part of me wishes I could too.
Grandma looks over at our group, smiling, approving.
I’m tricking her. If she ever learns the truth, it will break her heart. And for what? Cash?
“What about you, Raiden?” One guest asks. I think it’s Xavier Thorne, a billionaire tech mogul who often comes to the Retreat, but it’s difficult to be sure as the Retreats are always so busy with people coming one year then skipping several.
If I weren’t so tall and broad and didn’t always wear the same mask, I might be able to go incognito too.
“Was it obsession?” he goes on.
“At first sight.” I sink my hand greedily into Aurora’s hip, loving her fullness, her curvaceous perfection. “I saw her, and I knew we were going to have something special.”
Outside, the wind howls and thunder cracks. Aurora shivers and moves closer to me. When she claws onto me, it feels real.
We mingle with more groups, Aurora playing her role to perfection. I lean in and whisper, “You deserve an Oscar.”
“It’s not all pretend,” she shoots back, like she’s annoyed with me.
I shake my head. I’ve got no response to that. She’s fiery hot one moment and ice-cold the next, and she expects me to keep up.
“I need to use the bathroom. Will you be okay on your own?”
“I’m not a child,” she snaps.
I leave her, walking away, my head a mess. I almost snap.If you’re not a child, stop acting like one. But I wouldn’t mean it. What I’d really mean is that I want her to want me or not want me, nice and simple, which will never be a reality for us.
Nothing is simple.
I’m halfway to the bathroom when all the lights suddenly go out.
From the ballroom, someone lets out a scream. I turn on the spot and start running.
CHAPTER 19
