Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

I wasn’t sure how I’d explain changing my dress to West. He’d been nothing but perfect from day one of our marriage.

Still, I slid into the lacy material.

The finishing touch was a ribbon in my hair. The box had come with a silky white ribbon to match the dress, but I took the green one off the box, and tied it in my hair.

It fell to mid-back.

A knock sounded on the door and my heartbeat sped up.

I opened the door, trying to keep my face from falling when West smiled back.

“That’s not the dress I expected.”

“I bought this one myself,” I lied.

Why am I lying?

It’s not like West and I have anything.

West smiled. “Well, tonight you really are my angel.”

“And you are?”

He pointed to his mask, a beautiful bronze with circular wired ears. “The mouse king, of course.”

“Of course.”

He caressed his knuckle down my bare face. “Forgetting something?”

My stomach twisted, but I shook my head. West arched his brow, but only held his arm out for me.

“Ready?”

In the end, the only people who’d made it to the party were those who’d already been in Crowne Hall, so the ballroom was dotted with various Crowne and du Lac family members—and one socialite who had managed to brave the storm, refusing to miss a Crowne party.

Even Abigail and Theo hadn’t made it.

It was an ominous party. The few of us lingered like forgotten stage props in the massive ballroom, with no music, and the chandelier flickering overhead, threatening to die, all while Tansy forced us to act as if everything was perfect.

“There’s a legend in my family,” Grayson’s low, grating whisper sounded close to my ear. “This masquerade was established so my ancestor could dance with his true love without consequence.”

I stared forward as Gray spoke, stared at the marble floor like everything was fine. West was next to me, Lottie was next to Gray, but the howling wind was our secret keeper.

“You could get in a lot of trouble for a dance, back then,” he continued. “Imagine what would happen if they kissed.”

Images of Grayson and I kissing, a dirty secret hidden behind his mask, flooded my brain without consent.

“Angel,” West said. “You’re looking at the ballroom floor like you want to fuck it.”

“Am not.” I gasped, turning to West.

West’s lips lifted. “You’re blushing. What are you blushing for?”

I pressed the back of my hand to my cheek. “Um. It’s hot in here.”

“I want to dance with you, Snitch.”

I could tell by the way Grayson’s low, sultry voice seemed to caress my ear that he’d turned, was looking directly at me. But I stared at West, focused on his smile, as Grayson made my heart slam against my chest.