1 Chapter 1

1

The company’s annual masquerade Halloween party was always a big hit with everybody except Dante Frost—which was really too bad because, as the CEO, he was expected to make an appearance. And he did, every year, in the same mask, and the same costume. It seemed like everybody else made about as much effort as he did when it came to finding a costume. They weren’t there to dazzle their coworkers with originality; they were there to eat their weight in expensive caviar and drink enough wine to make a Frenchman blush.

Except, one woman apparently did not get the memo that the masquerade party was less about the masquerade and more about the party. And Dante couldn’t stop staring at her. She moved through the revelers and the drinkers with ease, and occasionally, she would get close enough he could hear her laughter. He couldn’t find a single identifying detail—though truth be told, he didn’t recognize the vast majority of people in his employ. He regularly tried to distract himself with booze and chatter and food, but she would inevitably flutter into his line of vision, and he would be captivated all over again.

Dante could admit her costume, as flattering as it was, wasn’t anything that special. She wore a leather mini-dress with a tight fitting bodice that hugged and lovingly accentuated each of her curves. Long tassels hung from the short skirt, drawing his gaze from her breasts to her legs. She wore fishnet stockings and leather boots that went nearly up to her knees. Red and white silk butterfly wings and a matching mask completed the ensemble. She also had a leather whip hanging from her wrist.

The costume may not receive many points for originality, but in Dante’s opinion, she wore it very, very well. And that was definitely worth something.

Even so, Dante did his best to avoid her. The thought of sexual harassment lawsuits, of embarrassing the company, of possibly losing his job over a drunken tryst at a Halloween party kept him on a short leash. But the more he drank, the more lax the leash became, until he found himself circling the large ballroom, waiting for his chance to get her alone.

Every time he thought he had her, she suddenly had a new companion. A young blonde he recognized from Accounting who looked like Peter Pan next to her statuesque form. Masini and Kater from Sales, each offering her a new drink she refused with a shake of her head that made the thick, dark waves of her hair fall in fresh patterns over her luscious shoulders. Even Vern from HR, standing a little too close until she playfully flicked her whip at him.

Dante’s cock jumped then. She wielded the whip just a little too easily.

The closest he got was five feet away. She was laughing with the blonde again, and she glanced over her friend’s head, and their gazes met. They did more than meet, actually; they locked. The full lips that gave her body a run for its money when it came to curves widened into a knowing smile, and he got to see that her eyes were brown with the thickest lashes he’d ever seen.

As she turned away, Dante could have sworn she winked.

He was so caught up in keeping track of her through the press of people that he didn’t realize she was actually leading him away from the party until a blast of cool air touched his face. Confused, and a little bit lightheaded from the rum he’d been drinking, he paused and looked around, trying to get his bearings. The fresh air was coming from the side door that led to the service hallway behind the ballroom. And the mysterious woman was gone.

Dante glanced back to the bustling party. Everything was in full-swing now, and if he disappeared, nobody would notice. She wanted him to follow her; he was sure of it. And he wanted to follow her, if only to find out her name. Who was this woman? Why had he never noticed her before? He looked over his shoulder, then pulled the door open and slipped into the cool corridor.

There were tables folded up against the wall, a rack of chairs waiting to be used if they became necessary. The party had turned into a hollow echo through the cement walls, but there, with her boot propped up on the edge of the cart to move the chairs, was his mysterious masked woman. She was bent over, fiddling with the zipper that ran up the inside of her calf. It pushed her ripe breasts up and almost out of her leather mini-dress, turning her silhouette into one of the most erotic things he had ever seen. Especially with the whip dangling forgotten from her wrist.