Adonis Haven

By the fourth dance, Adonis Haven had decided that seventeen was considerably more exhausting than anyone had warned her.

Another young man approached, bowed, and offered his hand. "Lady Adonis, may I have the honor?"

"Of course."

He kissed her hand before leading her onto the dance floor, where he spent the first turn telling her how beautiful she looked. Adonis offered the appropriate smile, one she had become very good at wearing whenever the occasion demanded it.

The ballroom glittered around them, awash in candlelight, music, silk, and jewels. Beneath the vaulted ceilings of Haven Castle, the seven founding families of Willow Haven had gathered in their finest attire, each concealed behind an elaborate mask. The families of Haven, Willow, Shaw, Friar, Dukaine, Blackwell, and Lock had filled the castle with their presence, their wealth, and their expectations.

Tonight was meant to belong to Adonis.

Her seventeenth birthday marked her coming-out into society, and the masquerade had been arranged to celebrate the occasion. Her mother had called it a beautiful beginning, but Adonis thought of it as more of an introduction.

Everyone knew who she was, and everyone knew she was promised to the Duke Dukaine. The young men who had asked her to dance throughout the evening could flatter her, charm her, and pretend to court her, but none of them truly had a chance. Adonis knew it, her family knew it, and most of the room probably knew it as well.

Still, the performance continued.

She turned gracefully beneath her partner's arm, catching her mother's approving gaze across the ballroom. Adonis returned the smile before allowing her attention to drift elsewhere. When the dance ended, she curtsied, thanked her partner, and slipped away before he could ask for another.

The tall windows along the far side of the ballroom offered the perfect excuse. She crossed the room and rested one hand against the cool glass, looking out over the moonlit gardens while finally allowing herself a quiet breath.

Then she noticed him.

A young man stood in the far-left corner of the ballroom, almost hidden among the shadows cast by the candlelight. He wasn't dancing or speaking with anyone, and, most curious of all, he didn't seem to have noticed her at all.

Adonis glanced around the room. Everywhere she looked, young men were watching her, yet the stranger remained completely absorbed in whatever had captured his attention.

She looked back at him.

Her curiosity got the better of her.

The stranger eventually wandered toward the refreshment table and paused beside it, his attention moving casually across the room. After apparently deciding no one was paying attention, he reached for a small sugared pastry and slipped it beneath his mask.

Adonis raised an eyebrow.

He glanced around once more and took another.

She pressed her lips together, fighting the smile threatening to betray her, but when he took a third pastry, a quiet giggle escaped before she could stop it.

The stranger froze and turned toward her.

Their eyes met from across the ballroom.

Adonis immediately turned toward the window, her cheeks warming beneath her mask. Wonderful. She had been caught staring.

She studied the gardens with sudden and intense interest, hoping he would simply return to his sweets and forget the entire thing. Instead, she heard footsteps approaching.

"Did I amuse you?"

Adonis turned slowly.

The stranger stood only a few feet away, another pastry held between his fingers. Her eyes dropped to it before returning to his face.

"Are you stealing sweets?"

He glanced at the pastry as though seeing it for the first time. "Borrowing."

"From whom?"

"The table."

Adonis laughed, and the corners of his eyes lifted behind the mask.

"How many have you borrowed?"

He considered the question with surprising seriousness. "Four."

"You've been counting?"

"I need to know when I've had enough."

"And have you?"

He looked at the pastry in his hand. "Not yet."

Adonis laughed again, unable to help herself. The music swelled behind them as another dance began, and couples moved onto the floor in a graceful sweep of silk and velvet, but neither of them joined them.

Instead, Adonis studied him more closely. His mask concealed most of his face, but there was something effortlessly relaxed about him that seemed entirely out of place in a room filled with people determined to impress one another. Even his clothing was understated compared with the elaborate finery surrounding them.

"You don't seem particularly interested in the ball," she said.

"I was."

"Were?"

"Then I found the sweets."

She smiled. "That seems like a poor trade."

"I'm not so sure."

Something about the way he said it made her wonder whether he meant more than the pastries.

Adonis tilted her head. "What is your name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I should at least know the name of the thief stealing food at my birthday celebration."

He paused. "Your birthday?"

She nodded, and for the first time genuine surprise appeared in his eyes.

"Then perhaps I should apologize."

"Perhaps."

He looked at the pastry in his hand. "I won't."

Adonis laughed, and this time she didn't bother trying to hide it. The sound seemed to catch him off guard. It was the first genuine laugh she'd given anyone that evening, and judging by his expression, he had noticed.

"You don't enjoy these dances," he said.

"I enjoy dancing."

"Just not this?"

Adonis glanced toward the crowded ballroom, where another circle of masked couples swept across the floor.

"I enjoy it considerably more when no one is watching."

His gaze lingered on her. "Then perhaps we have something in common."

The words were simple, yet something about them settled between them. For a moment, the ballroom seemed to fade into the background. Adonis became aware of the music only as a distant melody and the candles only as flickering light. She found herself wondering what he looked like beneath the mask and, more strangely, why she cared.

The stranger extended his hand.

"Then perhaps we should dance."

Adonis stared at his hand.

"Why?"

"Because you said you enjoy dancing when no one is watching."

She glanced toward the ballroom.

"Everyone is watching."

"Then we shall have to give them something worth watching."

A smile tugged at her lips.

"You are rather confident for a thief."

"And you are rather suspicious for someone who laughed at me."

"I was laughing at you."

"I know."

There was no offense in his voice.

That made her smile.

Adonis placed her hand in his.

He led her onto the floor.

The music carried them into the center of the ballroom, surrounded by masked couples turning beneath the chandeliers. Adonis expected him to dance like the others, all practiced steps and careful posture, but there was something different in the way he moved.

He wasn't performing.

Neither was she.

For the first time that evening, Adonis forgot to count the minutes.

"You dance well," she said.

"So do you."

"You don't know that."

"I do now."

She looked at him.

"How?"

"You stopped looking bored."

Adonis laughed.

"Perhaps I'm simply trying not to step on your feet."

"That would be unfortunate."

"Why?"

"I've stolen four pastries tonight. I don't think I could survive another crime."

She laughed again, and he smiled.

They continued around the floor, speaking quietly between turns. He asked what she liked to do when she wasn't attending elaborate balls, and Adonis found herself answering honestly. She told him about the gardens, the books she loved, and how much she preferred wandering the castle when everyone else had gone to bed.

He told her very little about himself.

Not because he seemed unwilling, but because whenever she asked something personal, he somehow managed to turn the question back toward her.

Eventually, Adonis caught him doing it.

"You haven't answered a single question about yourself."

"Have I not?"

"No."

"Perhaps I'm mysterious."

"Perhaps you're avoiding the questions."

He laughed.

"Perhaps I like listening to you."

The words caught her off guard.

She looked away, suddenly aware of how close they were.

The music slowed.

For one brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Adonis looked back at him.

She still couldn't see his face.

She wanted to.

More than she should.

Before either could say anything, a familiar voice called from the edge of the dance floor.

"Lady Adonis."

Her mother.

Adonis closed her eyes briefly.

"I suppose I'm being summoned."

"It would seem so."

She reluctantly released his hand.

"Will I see you again?"

The amusement in his eyes faded into something quieter.

"I hope so."

She held his gaze for another heartbeat before turning toward her mother.

Then someone spoke behind her.

"Lord Raven Willow, your father has been looking everywhere for you."

Adonis stopped.

She turned.

The stranger was standing several paces away.

He looked toward the person who had spoken, then back at her.

For the first time all evening, Adonis saw something other than amusement in his eyes.

Recognition.

And suddenly, the name meant something.

Raven.

Willow.

Her heart sank.

The masked stranger she'd spent the evening laughing with was Raven Willow.

Of all the people in the ballroom, it had to be him.

Raven seemed to realize the same thing at nearly the same moment.

"Adonis Haven," he murmured.

Neither of them moved.

The masks had hidden their names.

They had not hidden what had already happened.

And somewhere between a stolen sweet and a dance neither of them had planned, something had begun that neither of them knew how to stop.