Waverly

“I think you were right, Your Highness, a masked ball was definitely the way to go.” Mila, our most trusted event planner, raises a glass of champagne and smiles. “All twenty-five men are backstage and ready for auction. Might I suggest you put on your mask and ready your paddle?” She hands me the beautiful feather mask I picked.

I secure the mask in place and stare at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror. My golden gown hugs my curves and sets off my dark hair, picking up the strands of blond and accentuating them. With the black feathers of my mask hiding my face, I doubt anyone who hasn’t seen me earlier would know who I am on sight. It’s freeing and wonderful. “Thank you for all your help pulling this off in such a short time.”

“Without Lord Haverford’s help, we wouldn’t have such a gorgeous array of men to put up for bidding. All I did was make sure they were properly attired.” She hands me a flute of champagne and grins.

I glance around the ballroom and grin. “And arrange the florist, caterers, bar, music…I could go on.”

“All I want is for you to have a lovely evening. Enjoy yourself tonight. You’ve worked hard enough these last two weeks.”

With a nod, I take a drink and make my way to the dance floor where Alina is twirling around, her pink tulle skirt flowing all around her, and the pale pink mask over her eyes barely hides her identity. She smiles and takes my hand, pulling me into her spin like I’m a planet and she’s the sun.

“What are you doing? This is a waltz!” I shout, placing my nearly empty champagne flute on the tray of a passing server.

“It’s boring.”

“It’s not boring. A waltz is beautiful.”

“I’m going to win Kingston tonight. If I disappear with him after, don’t come find me.”

I roll my eyes. “You know you’re not buying him right? He won’t be yours forever if your bid wins.”

She laughs and lets me go, raising her arms and giving up on me. “But it’ll be a start. He’ll have to pay attention to me if I win.” Then she dances off into the crowd, leaving me smiling after her. Her hold is replaced with the arms of a man, and in the blink of an eye I’m face to face with a stranger, his mask dark as his eyes, and grin as wicked. “Your dance partner seems to have abandoned you, Your Highness.”

“You know who I am? Damn, this mask isn’t working.”

“Your sister was a dead giveaway. No one else would be so familiar with you.”

His voice is deep and deadly sexy. I’m sure I know him. I know everyone at court, but I can’t place him. “And yet you steal a dance and speak to me as though we’re equals?”

“I’m supposed to be fitting in. I can’t do that if I’m not dancing.”

It’s then I figure him out. A thrill runs through me. “Archer?”

His eyes widen, but a smile spreads across his face. “Shh. Don’t blow my cover.”

“How many of the guard are here?”

“All of them. Hopefully they aren’t as easy to identify as I was.”

He pulls me close enough that I can feel the heat of his body and the spicy scent of his aftershave floods my senses. I don’t want him to let go. In all my years of unrequited love, I never thought I’d get a chance to be in his arms. “I expect I know you better than most. You’re always around.”

“I’m always here for you,” he whispers in my ear, the feel of his lips brushing my sensitive skin making a shiver roll through me. We dance through three songs, bodies close, eyes locked, and I fall even harder for him with each passing moment. I know I shouldn’t, but I want him. I want to take him to my room and give him my virginity, let him have a part of me no other man will ever claim.

I open my mouth to make my proposition, but his posture straightens and a hand goes to his ear as though he’s listening to something. “Your Highness, I’m sorry, but I’ve overstayed my welcome on the dance floor with you.”

He takes my hand and brushes a soft kiss to my knuckles.

“It was a pleasure, Archer,” I breathe.

I watch him walk away, arousal coursing through me as I take in his broad shoulders, narrow hips and waist, and long legs. He’s a formidable presence, and I was just in his arms. I sigh and as soon as he’s out of view, I make my way off the dance floor, ready to watch the auction.

“Well, well, you little minx. It’s a good thing this is a masked ball or people might think you’re casting me to the side.” The Duke of Longmire, my intended, says from where he’s sidled up next to me. Tyler isn’t even wearing a mask. He’s too vain to hide his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be flirting with your not-so-secret-boyfriend in the coat closet?”

He chuckles. “Have to put on a show for the masses, my dear. Father won’t admit I’m gay to anyone, let alone himself.”

My heart breaks that Tyler’s life is that way. I wish more than anything he could be open about who he is. “I’m sorry.”

His shoulders rise and fall. “Not to worry.” Then he gestures to my empty hands. “You need more liquid courage if you’re going to bid.”

“Oh, no. I won’t be bidding on anyone tonight.” I thread my arm through his. “Besides, I’ve got you to keep me company.”

We walk through the crowd, and I find myself scanning the perimeter for any sign of Archer. I’m certain he’s here, but the man is like a ninja. He’s stealthy and though I can’t see him, I know he’s watching me.

There’s a fresh drink in my hands just as the lights go down, and Mila comes on stage. She’s all smiles as she introduces the charity we’ll be donating tonight’s auction proceeds to, and then the men are ushered on stage. Kingston leads the pack, looking dapper and dangerous all at once.

A dull throb begins between my eyes and my vision darkens around the edges, the telltale signs of a migraine. “Bloody hell,” I whisper.

“What is it?”

“Migraine. Excuse me, won’t you? I’ll just be a moment.”

Tyler lets me leave without following me, another point in the reasons-I-don’t-want-to-marry-him column. When the cool evening air hits me, I instinctively shiver and let out a soft moan. The pain is worse rather than better, and now I’m dizzy. Disoriented. And I don’t think this is a migraine at all.

“Whoa, there, love. Don’t fall down on me now,” a male voice says, the timbre familiar but fuzzy in my brain. He catches me in his arms and scoops me up as I begin to lose control of my limbs. “I’ve got you now. I wonder what the king will do for the safe return of his lost sister.”

Fear worms its way through my dulled senses. What did he say? It’s then I realize the truth. I’ve been drugged. Kidnapped. And no one knows where I am.

Everything begins to fade as my body loses the battle with the drugs in my system. My thoughts drift to Archer. Surely he’s seen. Surely he’ll come for me. He won’t let me down.

I try to claw at my captor’s face, hidden by a damn mask, but can barely lift my hand. How had this happened? This is a safe place. My country has never been involved in true conflict, not in a hundred years. The man’s breath makes me gag, it’s cloyingly sweet and medicinal, like cherry cough drops.

“Why are you doing this?” I manage to ask.

“You royals have had it too good for too long. It’s time for a change.”

I try to scream, to fight him, but he’s too strong and the drugs in my system keep me weak. “Don’t. Please.”

He ignores me, taking us farther from the safety of my home under cover of darkness. We round the corner, and I see the sleek black car waiting with the engine running. The trunk pops open and with ice cold clarity, I realize my fate. They’re going to put me in there. In the dark. Anxiety takes over, and I scream. I scream until he shoves a cloth in my mouth and tosses me inside. The last thing I hear before I lose my fight against the drug in my system is Archer’s voice. I swear it is him. He’s screaming my name, and even though I’m desperate to claw my way to the surface, I give in to the darkness.