LITMIR.BIZ

      CONTENTS

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Title Page

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

      THE ALL HALLOWS’ EVE MASQUERADE BALL was in full swing the first time Paige Gardiner saw him. He was leaning against the far wall of the Hunt Club ballroom, watching the gyrating devils and black cats on the crowded dance floor. There was a dangerous look about him, a leanly muscled power that was disturbing, and Paige thought suddenly of a lion in the tall grass, waiting for a herd of wildebeest to move just a bit closer.

      ‘Paige, for heaven’s sake, haven’t you spotted Alan yet? We can’t just stand here, blocking the doorway all evening.’

      Paige blinked and looked at her mother. ‘Sorry,’ she said, giving her a quick smile. ‘I’m trying to find him, Mother. I just can’t seem to…’

      ‘Of course you can’t. There must be a dozen Romeos here tonight.’ Her mother sighed and brushed a lock of Paige’s pale blonde hair back from her face. ‘And a dozen Juliets, of course. But none as beautiful as you, dear.’

      Paige smiled. ‘And no Romeos as handsome as my fiancé,’ she said. ‘That’s why he’ll be easy to find.’

      But he wasn’t. She frowned behind the anonymity of her delicate silver mask as her violet eyes searched the crowded room. There was, indeed, an over-abundance of Romeos, and from this distance they all looked very much alike. Still, Alan was special. He was the man she was engaged to marry. She’d be able to pick him out from all the rest.

      There he was again, the man she’d seen when she entered the ballroom. He was looking through the glass doors at the club’s formal gardens. His back was to her now, but Paige knew it was he. She recognised the defiant set of his shoulders beneath his dinner jacket, and the too-proud angle of his head.

      He turned suddenly, and his eyes, behind his narrow black mask, locked with hers. The ballroom, the dancers, the music—all of it spun away.

      ‘Paige?’ Her father’s hand closed around her arm. ‘Paige, isn’t that Alan?’

      An eternity seemed to pass before she could look away from the man and turn towards her father.

      ‘Where?’ she asked, and he nodded towards a nearby Romeo. ‘I… I’m not certain,’ she said, and colour rushed into her cheeks. Ridiculous, she thought. She’d been dating Alan Fowler for almost a year and she’d been engaged to him for three weeks. Surely she could recognise him, even in costume. ‘Alan?’ she said tentatively. ‘Is that you?’ To Paige’s great relief, the Romeo turned and smiled.

      ‘There you are, sweetheart.’ She smiled in return as he took her hands in his and kissed her cheek. ‘You look positively beautiful, Juliet.’

      ‘You look pretty good yourself, Romeo,’ she said, and she smiled again. ‘Is it my imagination, or is every pair of eyes in the room on us?’

      Alan grinned as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘It’s a possibility,’ he said. ‘Mother’s out-of-town guests have been arriving by the carload all day long. In fact, Aunt Dorothy was asking about you only a few minutes ago. Want to meet her?’

      ‘Not yet,’ Paige said so quickly that everyone laughed.

      ‘Paige is nervous about meeting all your relatives,’ Paige’s mother said as she brushed an imaginary speck of lint from her daughter’s gown.

      ‘It just doesn’t seem like the best way to do it, that’s all,’ Paige murmured. ‘You know, at a costume ball, with so much going on all at once.’

      Janet Gardiner sighed. ‘There’s not much choice, with the wedding only three days off.’

      Alan laughed. ‘Mother thinks it’s terrific. She must have rented a dozen costumes and…’ He looked down at Paige as she shuddered lightly. ‘Are you cold, sweetheart? Here,’ he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders, ‘is that better?’

      Paige nodded. ‘Much,’ she said brightly. ‘I just felt a chill, that’s all.’

      Three days, she thought, as Alan turned towards her father and began to discuss a business matter. Three days, and she would be Mrs Alan Fowler. It seemed impossible. A month ago she’d been content, dating Alan as she had been for months, turning aside his proposals which had become so frequent she hardly noticed them. But then, there had been that one evening when he put his finger to her lips before she could refuse him.

      ‘Don’t

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