I usually avoid public gatherings like the plague, but Tamara has changed everything. I can’t wait to see her, dance with her, and then take her home and make love to her all night.

Realizing that she is on the verge of leaving, I finally admit to myself that I love the woman. When she fell off her horse and got hurt, I felt as if a part of me had shriveled up and died. At that moment, I knew I’d give my own life to save hers. I have never loved anyone the way I love Tamara, and I won’t lose those feelings. I plan on being with her forever. I don’t understand what’s going on with her, but I know she’s hiding something. I can see how cut up she is about leaving, but she insists on going. I know she loves it here, so I can’t understand why she wants to run away tomorrow. I must find a way to convince her to stay.

I will tell her everything about myself tonight. There are so many things she needs to know, and once she does, I won’t let her go.

I will do whatever I have to do in the few hours I have left to get to the bottom of this mystery and convince her to stay.

I stand on the balcony and scan the crowd for Tamara. The entrance is above the ball itself, so I am able to look over everybody inside. From above, they all look unidentifiable in their strange costumes and masks, but it only takes me a second to find her. Her head of bleached blonde hair stands out beyond everyone else’s as she arrives on Chance’s arm. I see that everybody has turned to watch her. She is, without doubt, the most beautiful woman in this hall. My heart swells with pride even as I curse every man who lays eyes on her and thinks a dirty thought.

I walk down the steps and as I near Tamara, I notice her wince in pain and my heart drops. She’s gotten so many injuries since being here and I couldn’t stop any of them.

“Tamara,” I call out.

She turns around and I stare at the bright blue dress that hugs her body in every area. It’s a body I’ve seen up close, sucked, licked, bitten, and entered many, many times, but I can’t help but gawk at how beautiful she is.

“It’s you,” she whispers coming in my direction and smiling with the same, shy smile that got me up all knotted up around her little finger.

“Of course, who else would it be?” I ask, handing her a glass of champagne.

She smiles.

“How’s your ankle.”

She shakes her head. “Vicodin took care of it. It doesn’t really hurt at all.”

I raise my glass. “A toast.”

She raises her glass.

“To the most beautiful woman here.”

“I’m not,” she says.

“Every man in this places wishes he was me,” I tell her truthfully.

“You’re not so bad looking yourself,” she says, taking a delicate sip.

Taking a step closer, I bow and open a hand to her. “Will you do me the honor of dancing with me? It gives me an excuse to feel you up in a public place,” I tell her with a wolfish grin.

“I’m not very good at ballroom dancing,” she says, taking a small step back.

I take the glass from her hand and leave it by the ledge. “All you have to do is follow my lead, baby.”

She puts her hand in mine and I pull her toward me. Wrapping my arm tightly around her to help take some weight off her ankle, I lead her toward the middle of the dance floor.

She looks up at me. “I feel as if I’m a princess in a fairytale,” she whispers, and her breath is like a magic mist.

“Well, for what it’s worth, you make me feel like a prince with a kingdom,” I say as I twirl her about the room, lost to everything but her lovely face looking up at me. I let my fingers trail down her naked back and feel her take a sharp breath. Circling her waist, I take her through a series of spins that leaves her breathless and wide-eyed.

“We need to talk,” I say into her ear. I feel her shiver beneath me and bury my nose in the top of her head. I can’t let her go. I will never let her go.

“How about we talk after the dance?” she compromises. I notice her eyes start swimming with tears again. She blinks them back furiously.

What the hell is going on? “After the dance,” I agree. I’d agree to almost anything for her.

She presses herself against me and allows herself to move in every direction that I move. I could stand this close to her all day and be perfectly content, but my contentment will only last until she moves. She continues looking into the skylight and at the slowly darkening sky, but I don’t know why.

As the ending melody of the song plays, I look down at her. Her phone rings. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she says with a sad smile. “We can talk after that, all right?”

I nod and give her a small peck on the cheek. I reach to the floor and grab her crutches for her. “And you’re going to tell me the verdict on your foot,” I say.

“It’s sprained,” Tamara whispers. “Okay, I’ll be back. I’ll miss you, Lars,” she says before turning and walking away.

I stand in place and make small conversation with the people around me for a while. I check the clock periodically, wondering where she could have gone. She’s got a bad ankle, but she shouldn’t be taking this long.

I begin walking around and scanning the crowd. My nerves grow tense the longer I look, so I ask people around me if they’ve seen her.