“I love you, too,” Asha said, and his heart lit up with joy.
“I want you to be my partner in business, in life, in every possible way. Will you do me the honor of being my partner?”
“Mathis Durand, are you actually proposing to me?”
He hadn’t even thought about that possibility before. Hadn’t he sworn off marriage his whole life? But marriage, like love, seemed the right step. The only step.
“Will you be my wife?”
“Yes, of course, yes,” Asha replied, and then threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
EPILOGUE
A year later
THE GUESTS CROWDED the golden ballroom of one of Stockholm’s most premiere destinations, the Grand Hotel. Each one wore a golden mask, and their reflections in the mirrored walls made it look like the two hundred or so guests were many more than that. The scene was as beautifully breathtaking as it had been a year before when Asha had first met Mathis Durand, in this very ballroom, her first introduction to the Sphinx Society.
“Are you nervous?” her father asked her as he met her at the doors of the ballroom in his black-and-white tuxedo, looking still much like himself despite the fact, he, too, had half his face covered in a golden mask.
“A little,” she admitted as she fussed with her white dress. This time, she’d blend right in at the white-and-black ball. Though blending in wasn’t what brides were supposed to do. “The last time I was here, I wore bright red.”
“I think white suits you better. You’re a beautiful bride, darling,” her father said, and laid a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Asha glanced once more at her reflection in the mirrored wall. Her original designer gown offered a full train, miles of hand-stitched beadwork, and a veil that completely obscured her face through thick white tulle. She could see out, but no one could see in.
Music began from inside the ballroom. “That’s our cue,” her father said, and offered his arm. She took it, the butterflies anxious in her stomach. Despite a perfect year with Durand, despite her absolute confidence he was the right man for her, part of her worried that somehow, somewhere, it would all go awry. She’d never felt this lucky before, this in love, and she worried that one day she’d wake up and it would all be a dream.
She and her father stood at the doors of the ballroom, and the guests parted, standing each to the side, making an aisle straight downward. At the far end of the beautiful room stood the reverend who would marry them, and Durand himself in a black tuxedo and white mask, looking striking and dangerous, and absolutely the man for her. She sucked in a breath and walked to the beat of the string quartet. As she approached, she saw his face light up, his blue eyes glistening with joy beneath the mask. Her heart felt as if it would burst from love, and she was impatient to close the distance between them, to have her hands in his, to become his wife.
She passed all the guests, their friends and family, beneath the masks, and shook her head. The event—and the reception afterward—had been the most hyped social event of the year. Thousands of people clamored for invitations, and the Sphinx Society had never been more popular. In fact, membership had tripled in the last year, and the two of them, partners in the business, had grown. It turned out, they made as good a team in the office as they did in the bedroom.
Asha felt a little thrill of satisfaction when she thought of the year to come: the social engagements, their “wedding tour” that would bring them to cities across the world, where Sphinx Society members wished to line up and raise a glass of champagne in their honor. Their wedding had turned into the very best thing that could’ve happened for the elite club.
Asha took another step closer to Durand. Another two steps and they’d be there. Her father paused as they approached and kissed her hand.
“You take good care of her,” he told Durand.
“But of course,” Durand said. “Though it is she who has saved me.”
Her father withdrew his arm from Asha’s, and Durand stood before his bride. He lifted her veil, revealing her bare face. She wore no mask. Tears welled in Durand’s eyes. Tears of joy and love, and Asha felt her own eyes grow wet with emotion.
“You are the most beautiful woman in the world, ma chère,” he said. “You wear no mask, and neither shall I.”
He took off his own and tossed it the ground, and Asha and Durand stood facing each other, without conceit, without masks to hide behind.
“Ladies and gentleman,” the reverend in the white mask began. “We are here to celebrate the marriage of Asha Patel and Mathis Durand. First, these two would like to exchange their own vows.” He nodded at Durand.
“Asha, a year ago, I met you here, in this very ballroom. You were then an uninvited guest.”
“As I recall, you kicked me out,” Asha said, and the whole room laughed.
“You might have come without an invitation, but you made yourself at home in my heart. You made your own home there. You have done what no other woman could, and convinced me of the value of love,” he said. “You are my love, my world, and my savior.”
Asha felt tears choke her. Surprisingly strong emotions gripped her, and she feared she’d cry out her mascara in front of all their guests.
“I promise to love and honor you, Asha,” Durand continued. “I promise to be my real self with you, and never to wear this or any other mask.” He pointed to the mask on the ground. “I promise to cherish you all the days of our lives, and I will be faithful to you, and only you. I promise you this, now and always.”
Asha believed him, because he had been faithful completely to her this last year, and she felt secure for the first time in a relationship with a man. She’d come to realize that relationships weren’t about power at all, that true love was about surrendering power. And as soon as she’d done that, she’d realized that everything would be all right.
He took a ring from his pocket, covered in diamonds, and slipped it onto her finger. “With this ring, I claim you as my partner, my wife, my everything.”
Asha swallowed back her emotions, even as the light of the ballroom glistened on her ring.
“You have shown me what it means to love, what it means to truly give myself to someone else,” she said. “I have made a home in your heart, and you have made one in mine. I want to spend the rest of my years building a life together with you. Because you are the love of my life.”
“And I’m yours,” Durand said.
“I couldn’t have said it better,” the reverend said. “Now, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
“I hope so,” Durand said. “Come here, ma chère. Show me how much you love me.” He grinned.
“Now and always,” Asha said, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him. She barely heard the cheers and applause in the room, as all she could feel were Durand’s lips on hers, and their promise of the years of happiness to come.
* * *
Check out Cara Lockwood’s next sizzling book, The Love Cure, in March 2021!
And if you liked Masquerade, why not try:
The Fiancé by Stefanie London
Her Playboy Crush by Nicola Marsh
Dating the Rebel by Lisa Childs
Available now from Harlequin DARE!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Dating the Rebel by Lisa Childs.
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CHAPTER ONE
“WHAT THE HELL is he doing here?” The question exploded out of Miranda Fox just as she felt like exploding. Usually she enjoyed the size of her small office, the elegance of the brocade wallpaper and white-painted coffered ceiling, but right now it wasn’t giving her enough room to pace and nowhere to escape. If she walked out, she would have to pass him in the reception area. And the office was too many floors up for her to safely jump out the window.
And she wasn’t about to risk her life, or anything else, over Grant Snyder.
“He wants to become a member of Liaisons International,” the receptionist, who was also her younger sister, replied, as if it was obvious.
But it wasn’t. Nothing was ever obvious about Grant.
Miranda shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. He’s up to something.”
He had to be. Why else would he have flown from his office in London to show up at her business in Monaco? Sure, he co-owned a private charter plane company, so flying to him wasn’t much different than driving, but still...
There wasn’t even an airport in Monaco. He would have taken a helicopter or a car to travel from Nice to her office. Why take the time for a visit? Why hadn’t he just called her? Then she would have been able to hang up on him.
Oh...
That was why he’d made the trip instead of calling. But what was his real reason for the visit?
“Maybe it’s about Blair,” Tabitha suggested.
Blair was Grant’s younger sister and Miranda’s best friend since they were little girls.
Tabitha’s face twisted into a slight grimace of concern as she almost reluctantly continued, “Maybe something’s happened to her.”
Miranda shook her head again—with such force that the ends of her blond tresses struck her face and tangled in her long lashes. She could not even consider such a horrible thought, for so many reasons. One—she’d spent so much time worrying about her friend when she’d been a fighter pilot. Retired and flying planes only for the private charter business that she’d started with her brother, Blair was safe now. And because of Miranda’s business, Liaisons International, she was also happy. “No, if something happened to Blair, he would never come to tell me.”
Unless it had been Miranda’s fault...
Then he would seek her out to lecture her just like he’d done when they were all kids. Like he was any better than she was...
Like he’d never gotten into trouble.
Hell, he was trouble—just the way he looked, so muscular, so big, so damn good-looking...
So charming when he wanted to be. He’d never wanted to charm her, though. He only ever wanted to warn her to stop messing up his sister’s life. Not that she’d ever really messed it up except for a detention or two or three in school. And now that they were adults, the most she’d ever done was talk Blair into taking a break from work and into joining her dating service.
Was that why he was here now?
But Blair and Matteo Rinaldi were happy and too perfect for each other to be having problems already. In fact, the billionaire had just granted an interview in which he’d revealed that he was happier than he’d ever been—thanks to Blair and Liaisons International.
So if Teo was happy, Blair was, too. And no matter how big a jerk Grant had been to Miranda, he’d only ever wanted his sister to be happy and safe, which was probably why he’d been such a jerk to Miranda. He’d been protecting his sister from her bad influence.
She hadn’t purposely gotten Blair into trouble, but she hadn’t always exercised the best judgment.
She had to know why he was here, so she drew in a deep breath and said, “I’ll see him...”
Tabitha grinned and eagerly nodded. “You’d be missing out big-time if you didn’t. I think he’s gotten even hotter than he used to be.”
Was that possible? While they’d talked on the phone when she’d called their business looking for Blair, she hadn’t seen him in person in years.
She’d been counting on the opposite—on her teenage mind having overexaggerated how damn good-looking he’d been. Like how, in her child’s mind, she’d remembered her father’s house as having been so large and elegant, but when she’d finally been invited back to visit him, it had been small and sad. Like he’d been.
Tabitha opened Miranda’s office door and slipped out, closing it behind her. But even through the thickness of the solid mahogany wood, Miranda could hear her sister giggling in response to a deep rumble that made her own traitorous pulse quicken with excitement. Then the door opened again, and she had confirmation.
It wasn’t just possible. It had actually happened—Grant Snyder had gotten even hotter. Unlike her father’s house, Grant was even bigger than she remembered. Taller. Broader. More muscular. His hair was a deeper gold, his eyes a darker blue, and that reddish beard trimmed so close to his skin only enhanced the rigid line of his strong jaw. Damn him...
* * *
Damn her...
This was supposed to have been a simple mission. Track down Miranda Fox and warn her to stop messing with his sister’s life. Blair was in a good place—a great place—now; she didn’t need Miranda talking her into playing hooky from work or from her new relationship. It was a mission Grant Snyder had carried out many times in his youth, albeit never successfully. Miranda had always ignored him then.
So had his sister.
Then Grant had left to join the navy and hadn’t been around enough to monitor their many misadventures. He’d had no excuse for not catching and putting a stop to their recent one, though, since he worked with Blair now. He should have noticed what was going on with her, but he hadn’t—until it was too late.
Until she’d been reduced to tears, and his sister, a former naval fighter pilot, never cried, not even when their dad had died. But Miranda had set her up with that billionaire and nearly gotten Blair’s heart broken. Teo had proved to be a good guy, though, but no relationship of Blair’s had ever lasted, usually because of Miranda’s meddling.
Damn Miranda Fox...
That was her fault. And if he didn’t step in and get her under control this time, she would no doubt make Blair cry again. He couldn’t have that; he hadn’t been able to protect his sister like he’d wanted in the past, but he would now.
But who the hell was going to protect him...from Miranda Fox?
She’d been a cute teenager.
But now she was all woman—with full lips highlighted with just a shimmer of gloss. Unlike the heavy Goth makeup she’d worn as a teen, she looked to be wearing barely any at all but for that shimmer. Given how pale her coloring was, her lashes probably weren’t real, but they
looked naturally long and black surrounding her silvery-blue eyes. Her dress was nearly the same color, in thin silk that clung to her every curve. And she definitely had more of those than he remembered.
Unfortunately she had the same sassy attitude she’d always had. “You better make this fast, Snyder. Since you don’t have an appointment, I’m fitting you in between other meetings.”
How long had he been standing there in the doorway to her small office? Probably with his mouth hanging open. He touched his bottom lip, checking for drool. Not wanting her to throw him out before he’d had a chance to issue his warning, he stepped into her office and closed the door behind him. “Would you have given me an appointment if I’d asked for one?”
“No,” she admitted freely—almost rebelliously. She’d always been such a rebel, but she didn’t look like one now.
While still petite, she was as elegant as a princess. Maybe that was why she’d moved to Monaco—in the hopes of becoming one. Her many-times-married mother had been obsessed with husbands, the richer and more important the better. Maybe her oldest daughter had inherited that same obsession along with the business.
Her office reflected her elegance and her small size. With the door shut, he didn’t have much room between him and the desk, even though it was small with spindly legs. She stood on the other side of that desk. Was she purposely keeping it between them? He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Why not?” he asked. “Why wouldn’t you let me make an appointment with you?”
“Because all you’ve ever done is yell at me and threaten me,” she said.
He suppressed the instinct to flinch at her direct hit. Threatening her, so she wouldn’t interfere in his sister’s happiness, had been what he’d planned on doing today. “I’ve never yelled at you,” he said in his defense. And he wouldn’t have yelled at her today, either.
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