She laughs. “No, you didn’t.”

“But you have to admit it’s good luck, like the button. Care to dance?”

Her lips twitch in a sexy smile. “Yes, I care to dance.”

I take her hand and lead her to where the chandeliers cast patterns of light across the hardwood floors. The dance floor is surprisingly crowded, but I don’t notice who’s here since I’m not actually looking at anyone but the hazel-eyed angel. I twirl her once, and when I tug her closer, her eyes sparkle.

“You know how to dance,” she says, a note of surprise in her voice.

“I’m not just a clever costume-maker and a producer of the finest knock-knock jokes.”

She leans her head back and laughs, exposing a gorgeous throat that I want to kiss. Yes, this is instant attraction. But then, that’s exactly how some attraction can be. And, perhaps, how it should be.

“One, your costume skills need work,” she says, giving me a pointed look as we move in time to the music. “Perhaps you should enlist the help of a crafty costumer for your next ball, at least to sew on the buttons so they don’t fall off. Two, tell me a fine knock-knock joke.”

“One, I will take that as a yes to enlisting your help next time I go to a masquerade ball. Also, side note, are there more? Are masquerades like a thing around town?”

“I hope they are, and if so, we’ll have to find them.”

We. More. Next time.

We haven’t even had a first time, and we’re already talking seconds. This is new for me too, but I like how instant this attraction is for her as well. “And two,” I add. “Knock, knock.”

She gives a coy smile. “Who’s there?”

“To.”

“To who?”

“To whom,” I say, like a grammar policeman.

She laughs. “Have I mentioned how much correct grammar turns me on?”

I wiggle my eyebrows and yank her closer, so we’re inches apart. “No, but have I told you I never let my modifiers dangle?”

“And do you also know how to conjugate properly?” she asks in a purr.

“Even better. I can conjugate improperly too.”

She raises a hand and fans herself. “Now you’re getting me truly turned on.”

She likes me, she’s flirting with me, and she has no idea who I am. Yes, this mask was a brilliant idea in my list of brilliant ideas. The music picks up speed, and I twirl her around once more.

“Seriously, how did you learn to dance?” she asks again. “And don’t say YouTube.”

“Because that’s where everyone learns everything these days?”

She nods. “Or Instagram. That’s where I learned you can slice cake incredibly well using dental floss.”

“Why not just use a knife?”

She shrugs. “I suppose it’s for those times in your life when you desperately need to slice a cake and don’t have a knife handy.”

“Hmm. So, if I’m traveling and I need to slice a cake in my hotel room, I’d use the floss rather than call room service for a knife?”