“Oh, right.” Her voice lowered. “Do you need me to rescue you? I’m sure I can drum up a rescue party. I’ll recruit Enzo and Everett. They’ll help.”

I turned to hide my smile. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be busy giving Mr. Langston a full tour of the resort. If there are any emergencies, call me on the radio.”

“You got it. Good luck. If you don’t come back, I’ll send that rescue party.”

I bit back a smile. “Thanks, Jazz.”

Langston set a sleek laptop on his desk. I glanced at his briefcase and froze.

Resting inside it was a bronze mask.

A very familiar bronze mask.

Instantly, all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. I blinked rapidly, my vision dimming.

No. Oh, no, no, no. The universe couldn’t be this cruel.

“Ms. Ashford? Ms. Ashford?” Langston’s voice sounded like it came from far away. He circled the desk, frowning at me.

Dimly, I noted his deep voice, his jawline, and the familiar sandalwood cologne.

Oh God.

He gripped my elbow and guided me into the guest chair. I dropped into it like a heavy sack.

“You’re pale as a ghost, and that’s saying something, considering you have pale skin anyway.” His brows knitted as he knelt beside my chair.

“You were at the Mountain Masquerade,” I said dully, my hands gripping the armrests tightly. I needed something to hold on to. “You made the fifty-thousand-dollar donation.”

He froze. “How could you know that?”

Then his gaze dropped to where my hands clenched on the chair…and locked on my bracelet. He stared at the citrine, garnet, peridot, and topaz, then sucked in a sharp breath.

Tiger eyes flicked back up to mine, his gaze tracing over my face. I wondered how often Ambrose Langston looked shocked speechless.

“Fairy queen,” he murmured.

I flinched, and ruthlessly ignored the hot squirming in my stomach. I’d fucked Ambrose Langston.

I’d let the billionaire owner of Langston Hotels go down on me and fuck me in the hotel ballroom.

I made a strangled sound.

He shot to his feet and raked a hand through his hair. “Well, this is…unexpected.”

Once again, the master of understatement.

Okay, I had two options. One, run out of here screaming and never come back. I pulled a face. As much as I liked that idea, it couldn’t happen. Damn mortgages and needing to eat. Two, I could pull on my big girl panties and take responsibility.

Which only reminded me that Langston had taken my thong that night.

I fought the urge to squirm and rose. My cheeks were probably on fire. I locked my shaky knees and I dragged in a breath, which meant I got a full dose of his masculine scent. I felt sensation prickle over my skin.

No, no sensation. No reaction to this man at all.