Goosebumps prickled my bare arms. He had such a good voice, deep and sexy. God, he made an even bigger impact up close. He was tall, and the way his tuxedo fit —it had to be custom. The metal mask suited him, and contrasted with his dark, thick hair.

“I was only planning to have one.”

He snatched a glass from the tray of a nearby server and handed it to me. “The way you dealt with that guy was perfect. You helped the woman, didn’t make him agitated, and didn’t cause a scene. You beat me by a second.” He cocked his head. “Although, there is every chance I would have caused a scene.”

“He was drunk and a pest, but not dangerous.” I took the glass and sipped.

“You were like an avenging superhero in a ballgown.”

Champagne fizzed on my tongue. “Actually, my friends said I looked like a dark fairy queen in this dress.”

His gaze swept over my dress, lingering on the slit that exposed one leg. “They’re right. An avenging fairy queen.”

“You’d better watch out. Real fairies were said to be dangerous and cunning.”

Nearby, three suited men started singing at the top of their lungs to the current song. I winced, but the ladies with them were laughing and hooting, clearly enjoying the show.

The man leaned in. “Shall we get out of the crowd?”

“Sure.”

He pressed a hand to my lower back and we headed for the stairs.

“Ah, now I’m not being deafened by the wanna-be Backstreet Boys,” he said.

“I don’t know, they certainly get an A for enthusiasm. And they’re having fun.”

He looked around. “It seems most people have tonight.”

I sipped again, studying him over the rim of my glass. “Have you?”

“Actually, I have.”

He sounded faintly surprised. His gaze lingered on my face as he leaned on the railing beside me.

He smelled good. Sandalwood. Emily had several sandalwood candles in her shop. Coming from him, it made me think of oiled skin, and my hands stroking over a bare chest.

Jeez. Put a mask on and have a glass of champagne and suddenly I lose my senses.

“The night is still young,” he murmured.

“Not for me. It’s way past my bedtime.”

“You can’t leave. There might be more young women needing a rescue.”

I smiled. “I hope not.”

“Then dance with me,” he said.

I should finish my drink and go to bed. It had been a long, busy day, and no doubt I’d have a billion emails from Langston to deal with in a few hours. Instead, I took a large sip of my champagne and set the glass on a table. “All right. One dance.”

One dance with a handsome stranger. It couldn’t hurt. I’d promised my friends I’d enjoy myself.