By: Skye Jordan

A middle-aged man with a clean-shaven jaw, an expensive suit, and a royal blue half mask approached her-the third man to approach since she'd taken a seat. The blue mask indicated that he was a member, which meant he was elite and wealthy, possibly famous in some way. His hair was dark, but graying handsomely at the temples. He held a drink in one hand and offered her his other in greeting. “What do you think so far?”

She'd been using her red mask and her newbie status as her out tonight, since she had no intention of getting involved in the activities.

“Little too soon to tell.” She shook his hand-quickly, firmly-then deliberately pulled hers away. “I'm not ready to jump into the game just yet. But thank you for the greeting.”

His grin widened, and he chuckled. “Don't think I've ever heard such a polite 'fuck off.'”

“I didn't mean it that way.” She held his gaze and softened her smile. No one liked to be rejected. “I'm truly just trying to acclimate.”

“I understand. Hope to see you again.”

“Thank you.”

As he moved on, Giselle let out a long, slow exhale of relief, hoping her disinterest in three different men would translate clearly to the other patrons.

Movement near the door drew her gaze, and she glanced that direction as the devilishly hot stranger from the lobby strolled in. His mask was also blue, but his girls were visitors, if Giselle remembered the color-coding correctly. While his face was covered with either mask or heavy scruff, she could still get a feel for his strong, handsome features. And there was just no hiding that body. He wore black slacks and a white button-down, both fitted to all his lean muscle. He had each strong arm curved around a beautiful, built brunette, but his gaze was directly, purposefully, on Giselle as he entered.

Her heart took an extra hard beat. Her breath hitched. And Giselle looked away again. But now she found herself caught between the live, erotic, passionate sex onstage and the stranger who made her think of Troy.


Her heart constricted with a bittersweet squeeze. She let her eyes glaze over the empty wineglass in her hand as the pain vibrated through her body like a plucked chord, then slowly stilled, leaving a familiar ache. She'd met men who'd reminded her of Troy over the years-a smile, a voice, a laugh-but none quite as much as this man, yet she hadn't even met him.

And she really didn't want to think about Troy tonight. Not here.

Music thumped in her ears, something techno and sexual. The sounds drifting from the stage grew in frequency and intensity. Giselle glanced around for a shadow server. She met the woman's eyes and instantly knew her silent request would be filled.

The level of nonverbal communication here awed her, and curiosity pulled her gaze back to the devil and his demons. He'd taken up residence on a small love seat on the opposite side of the seating area, but instead of watching the rising passion on stage or engaging in foreplay with his two beauties, his heavy-lidded dark eyes watched her.

Giselle held his stare for an extended moment with a strange mix of fear and attraction melding into angst. The thought that he recognized her made alarm burn across her neck. She didn't care what the guide had told her about their strict confidentiality rules, didn't care how Chad had assured her that Rendezvous was secure. She still grew nervous she'd be identified and outed. And had to deliberately remind herself all publicity at this stage of her career was good publicity.

She forced the tension from her shoulders and broke the devil's gaze as a shadow server set Giselle's second glass of wine on the table. She nodded a thank-you and drank deep as dual moans exploded on stage. When she looked up, she found the man banging his partner in a frenzy of hard, quick thrusts.

Like watching a train wreck, Giselle couldn't look away. The open, expressive carnality infused her with an intense craving. The raw, rough sexual acts made something elemental claw at her gut.

God. It had been so damn long since Giselle had been handled like that, she'd forgotten what it felt like. But the sights and sounds brought back memories. Only, the memories were attached to Troy. He'd known how to fuck like the worst of the bad boys, how to make love so sweetly it brought tears to her eyes, and every combination in between.

Giselle took another deep drink and glanced toward the devil, searching for the qualities that reminded her of her first love. Their gazes clicked with an explosive connection, a match to propane. Heat rattled her core and spread outward.

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