“I can identify the ladies who visit, mask or no. It is not only a face by which one might be recognized.” Slowly his gaze roamed over her, not in an insulting or lascivious way, but with an appreciation that had her skin prickling as though it longed to be nearer to him. Then his eyes were back on hers. “What is your name, darling?”

She didn’t want to remember how she had once longed to be someone’s darling, to have endearments, not apologies, whispered in her ear. “Lena.”

A shortened version of her name, a name no one would recognize her by should they hear it. A name she never used.

He cocked his head to the side, gave her another thorough going-over, shook his head. “I don’t think so. Too simple a name for far too complex a woman, I wager. Helena, perhaps, Helena of Troy. Or something fancier.”

Licking her lips, she glanced around nervously, noting she’d snagged the attention of a few ladies, those not masked known to her, which meant she was known to them and probably to a few of the masked ones as well. She didn’t want to consider the embarrassment and shame she would bear if her presence were discovered. “I don’t wish others to hear my name spoken.”

“It will be our secret,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive, causing unexpected warmth to sluice through her, along with a desire to trust him completely, with everything, but she wasn’t quite as foolish as all that.

“Selena,” she whispered back, thinking no word on her tongue was nearly as sensual as any syllable on his.

“Selena,” he repeated, his voice going even lower, a velvety caress that nearly had her leaning toward him, toward those lips that created such mesmerizing resonances. “I’m Aiden.”

“Yes, I know.” Did she have to sound so breathless of a sudden? “The owner. It’s quite a spectacular place.”

“How would you know? You haven’t left this spot since claiming it after coming through the door.”

Oh Lord, the man was too observant by half. Choosing him could turn out to be an error in judgment. Without another word, before she claimed another breath, she should take her leave, but his gaze held her hostage as though she were a butterfly beneath glass. “I can see the entirety of this room.”

“Ah, but this room is only a small portion of what I offer.” He held out his hand, ungloved, large, rough-hewn. It would swallow her breast. Where had that thought come from? Yet at that particular moment, she could envision those long, slender fingers doing little else than kneading what no man had ever touched. “Come, my lady. Allow me the honor of giving you a tour.”