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“He’s fantastic, isn’t he?” I comment, earning a cautious glance from Willow. “He was made to be a leader, but we’ve both always known that. He needs someone who can support him on that. Not hold him back.” I need her to understand she can’t force him away from everything he’s built.

“What are you saying, Scarlett?” She glares at me. She thinks she has so much right to hate me. But what did I ever do to her? I was only trying to protect the man we both loved when she ran away and crushed him. That old fire creeps back into my veins, despite my attempt to cool it down. My earlier trip down memory lane has left me raw and my filter shredded.

“Nothing he hasn’t already thought himself. You’re his past. You need to let go. I protected him from you then, and I’m trying to do it now. I can help him be the person he was meant to be.” There is venom on my tongue, and I loathe the taste, but I can’t back down once this dam bursts open.

Applause erupts around us. Piers. He’s just finishing up his speech.

“You will only hold him back. You make him soft…weak,” I say, only loud enough for her to hear. She sits there looking so innocent, so wounded. I’m always the villain; she’s always the victim. Guess I’m just playing the part I was cast.

Piers calls my name from the stage. “Looks like he needs me.” I smile, knowing it’s nothing more than a formality. The gesture is all business. He doesn’t need me. He hasn’t for some time. I smile as I join him on stage to thank everyone for coming and explain the rules of this evening’s silent auction before turning it back over to him.

Just as I’m about to walk down, my skin tingles, and I scan the crowd, until my eyes lock with a deep blue pair hidden behind a sleek black mask. Cohen.

#####

Cohen

Our eyes lock, and that same feeling of electricity whenever she is near zaps through me. It’s almost like the static charge that hangs in the air before a thunder storm.

Piers praised her for her work on the event, which is more than an event. It appears to be the event.

Hearing him talk about her and seeing her face light up at his complimenting irritates me. I’m glad to know she’s appreciated, but I want her smiles, all of them, to myself, and knowing he gets to work so closely with her makes me feel something a little like hate and a lot like jealousy. And I don’t get jealous. Ever.

That dress should be illegal, all sheer and lace, hugging her the way I want to be. I know what lies beneath that fabric, but she doesn’t know I know. She doesn’t remember. I wish she did.

So I wouldn’t have to chance ruining it all by telling her.

Tangles and twirls of black lay at her feet like a dark cloud and her lips are painted a deep red, the shade of blood that has hit oxygen. Loosening my tie, I take a deep breath as I lead her in. She is the epitome of temptation.

A sweet seductress complete with a jeweled mask.

My hand slips into my trouser pockets to discreetly adjust myself as I sweep my gaze back up her body just as her eyes find me.

Hello, gorgeous.

Our gazes remain locked. Her on the stage, me near the back at the room beside the bar. It’s as if only the two of us exist in this ballroom full of people.

Applause rings out and the moment is broken. Turning, she exits the stage as Willow approaches the bar where I’m standing to order a drink.

“I’ll have a club soda with raspberry, please,” she tells the barman.

“Rough night?” I ask with a chuckle, careful to keep my masked face at an obscure angle.

“Something like that,” she offers as her drink is placed neatly in front of her. Taking a sip, she explains, “I don’t drink. My parents were killed by a drunk driver, so it’s not a political statement. Just a choice,” she rambles, clearly upset.

I’m sure it’s just as difficult for her, seeing them on stage together. Seeing what they could be. Before she came back and before I showed up, what could have been. It won’t be now.

She starts to say something else, but I miss it because I quickly step away into the shadows as Piers approaches, wrapping Willow in his arms.

It’s easy to see what he feels for her is real. I may not have experienced it myself, but I’ve seen that look. It was the way my mother looked when she talked about my father.

It’s the kind of love wars are fought over. I just never met anyone worth fighting for. Until her.

Walking back to her seat alone, she glances around, but I can’t go to her just yet. Looking deflated, she takes her place next to Theo, the other friend, the one I might actually like. He’s there for her tonight in a way I can’t be. I use the moment to grab some fresh air as the anticipation of being near her builds.

Even across the room, I could see desire in her jewel-toned eyes. I’m not sure what the evening will bring, but I’m hoping to pull her away for a dance. It’ll be the perfect excuse to hold her in my arms, to feel her body pressed up against mine.