After the dinner, during which Ashley made awkward small talk with the forty-something financial planner she had been sitting next to, Preston went to the front of the room and tapped a knife against his glass until conversation went quiet.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna bore you with a speech,” he said, beaming his patented grin. He barely needed to carry his voice, Ashley realized—his deep tones were enough to hold everyone’s attention. “I just wanted to thank everyone for coming and let you know how glad I am that I’ve got the opportunity to show you the potential of my grandfather’s vision. You’ll notice information plaques positioned around the ballroom—they’ll tell you a bit more about what we hope to achieve here, and how we plan to bring the full scope and beauty of this place to the public. I’ll be only too happy to answer any questions you might have, as will my staff, and I wish you all a lovely evening.” He gave a short tilt of his head and allowed a moment of applause, then added, “Please do have plenty to drink—it’ll loosen your wallets!”

It drew scattered laughter, just as it was supposed to, and then Ashley was being swept along by the tide heading back towards the ballroom. She found Maggie in the throng and latched onto her, and the two of them made a beeline for the bar, Cami joining them after a few minutes, groaning about how she’d eaten too much. “Two desserts I had,” she said, rubbing her belly. “Two. That chocolate was sinful.”

But it wasn’t long before their husbands swept them off onto the dance floor, and with Preston busy mingling, it left Ashley at a loose end. Which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Can I get you a drink?”

The voice in her ear was oily, and she turned to find a man dressed in a dark gray suit almost identical to Preston’s. The man wearing it, however, was nothing like Preston—rather, mid-fifties at least, carrying a paunch and very little hair, ruddy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a nasty leer that made her want to recoil. He was also obviously, completely drunk.

“Thank you, but I’ve got one.”

“Yeah?” He sidled up beside her, and it was only years of ingrained politeness that kept her still. “You got a date?”

“Yep,” she said, bringing her glass to her lips as she sought out Preston in the crowd. When she spotted him on the far side speaking to an Asian man in animated tones, she nodded at him, letting the gentleman beside her know she didn’t have just any date—she had Preston Alcott. It would hopefully be enough to turn his attentions elsewhere.

“Hmm,” he drawled in his greasy voice, eyeing her contemplatively—top to toe, like she was a product he was checking out. “A girl like you,” he said, gaze lingering on her hips, “needs a real man, darlin’, not a little boy playing Lord of the Manor.”

She bristled. “A girl like me?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching out for her waist. “I like a girl who can give me more than a handful.”

“Don’t touch me.” She stepped back abruptly, her natural politeness disappearing on a wave of anger. His filthy leer turned into a frown, one that left him with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Should’ve known you’d be frigid,” he said nastily. Then he stepped closer still, forcing her to back up into the wall as his oily voice bore down on her. “What’s the matter? Never found a man who can handle it all?”

Just as she was contemplating issuing a swift slap, Preston appeared, looking between them with a creased brow. He tucked an arm around Ashley’s waist and gently pulled her away from the wall.

“Everything okay?”

The gentleman—if he warranted that label—was instantly transformed. Gone was the drunken lech, and in his place stood someone tall and pleasantly cheerful. It was a mask, though—Ashley could still see that horrible glint in his eye.

“Preston, my boy! I was just getting acquainted with your lovely lady here.”

“And lovely she is,” Preston said smoothly. Arm still around her waist, he gave her hip a quick rub, looking down at her with that same concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” But she still needed to get away from this man, so she muttered, “Excuse me,” with what she hoped was a polite smile, and headed off around the edge of the dance floor towards the bathroom, not looking back to check if either man watched her go.

She walked into a vague cloud of smoke in the bathroom and coughed a little at the surprise of it. A woman was standing in front of the mirrors, one who stunned Ashley into stopping mid-step at the sight of her.

In her fifties at least, with a willowy frame that sort of bent at the middle, she was dripping in diamonds and makeup, every part of her flashing garishly beneath the harsh strobe lights. When she turned and caught sight of Ashley standing stupidly in the doorway, her neon pink-slicked lips spread into a wide grin that showed yellowing teeth and crinkled leathery skin by her eyes. This woman was such a juxtaposition—clearly worn away by life, but draped in absolute finery.

She gave Ashley the once-over and said in a husky, smoky tone, “You. Are. Fabulous. What’s your name?”

“Uh—Ashley.”

“Tell me, Ashley,” she said, drifting towards her, then plucking the neckline of Ashley’s dress with red-manicured fingertips, “do you think I can pull of this dress?”

A toilet flushing in one of the cubicles saved Ashley from having to answer, and the cubicle door popped open, spilling out a woman who was almost identical to the one currently admiring Ashley’s dress—except one was blonde, and the other brunette.

“You do not have the chest to hold that beautiful creation up, dear sister,” the newcomer said. She turned piercing eyes on Ashley. “Am I right?”

Casting about for something to say that wouldn’t put her in the middle of a sisters’ disagreement, Ashley said, “Were you smoking in here?”

The brunette tutted. “Noooo,” she said, while the other shook her head in faux innocence. Then they both winked at her in dual mischief. “At least not as far as the owner knows.”

“I know the owner.”

“Don’t we all,” the blonde said, sighing wistfully. “Absolutely gorgeous specimen of a man, that one. What I wouldn’t give to—” She paused, and something on Ashley’s face must’ve given a bit too much away, because her expression turned wicked. “Oh, you know him. Tell me, is he as big as I think he is?”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t be crude, Karen,” the brunette tutted. “We’re in polite company here.” Ashley couldn’t help but shake her head at that. “Or not.”

“I’m not what you think I am,” Ashley said.

“Oh, you’re a tourist here then!” Karen exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “My favorite kind. Do you like poker?”

Swept up in the whirlwind of these two eccentric women, and kind of enjoying it, Ashley said, “Yes…” and hoped it was leading to some kind of invitation. Poker was her signature game, taught to her by her grandfather many years ago. She never turned down the chance to play, and these sisters were compelling—they had something about them that made Ashley want to know them more. Plus, if they played poker after the ball, and she assumed Preston would agree to a game, this would delay the inevitable question of whether or not they were spending the night together. Ashley still wasn’t ready to answer that question.

“Maude and I—a few others—we’ve been invited to stay in a couple of the finished rooms here tonight. We thought we might make a night of it.” Karen lowered her voice and added, “I’ve got some illegal imports stashed in my luggage.”

“Karen,” Maude admonished. Karen paid her no mind.

“What do you say, hmm? Poker? There’s about five or six of us so far.”

Ashley was half a second away from leaping at the opportunity, before reality crashed in and put a dampener on her excitement. “I don’t have the money to play with these kinds of people.”

Maude made a noise that sounded something like “pshaw” and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s just pocket change, dear. We’re all here for fun.”

“Then…yes. Okay. I’d love to.” She couldn’t help the grin that split her features.

“Excellent,” Karen said, returning her smile. There was a gleam of fondness in her eyes, as if Ashley had made a good first impression for once. “Let’s get back to the party,” she continued, leading them out of the bathroom. “I want to milk that free bar dry. Oh.”

She came to a sudden stop at the man she found loitering in the corridor outside, and Ashley, leaning up on tiptoes to see over her shoulder, found the sight of the greasy gentleman was enough to completely douse her good humor.

The man leered up at her. “You stalking me, darlin’?”

“You followed me,” Ashley muttered in irritation. She came fully out of the bathroom and stood side by side with the sisters.

“This creep,” Maude tutted. Ashley wasn’t surprised to know he’d earned himself a reputation. “Go away, Larry. No one here’s interested.” She fluttered her hand in the air at him as if trying to swat away a fly.

He sneered at her. “I’m not talking to you, old bag.”

“Hey,” Karen snapped, “don’t talk to my sister like that.” It was the first time Ashley had heard anything other than sultry humor in either of the sisters’ voices, and the hint of darkness there made her heart stutter.

Something told her these women, despite appearances, were not people to mess with.

Not that Larry got that particular memo.

“Jealous, princess?” he asked with his disgusting leer. He pushed himself into Karen’s space, breathing what was no doubt a cloud of vile breath into her face. “Always wanted to have some fun with sisters. What d’you say, hmm?” He jerked his thumb in Ashley’s direction. “We could throw this one in for dessert.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ashley muttered.

Whereas before the ladies had an odd bend to their middles, they’d now drawn themselves up to their full heights, and both of them had a look of such steel in their eyes, Ashley was mildly worried for Larry’s welfare. The charged moment held an air of sharpness—like someone might snap, or say something regrettable, make the whole situation worse.

Fortunately, they were saved from that fate by the arrival of a pleasant looking man in a navy suit. He walked into the situation, obviously heading for the men’s bathroom, and came to an abrupt stop, quickly surveying the scene before him.

“Is there a problem here, ladies?”

Karen didn’t take her eyes from Larry’s face. “This asshole thinks he can put his hands on whoever he wants.” She spat it like she was speaking about the very devil himself.

Larry lifted his hands, drifted back and away from the confrontation. “I’m just trying to have a good time here. Not my fault these frigid bitches—”

The newcomer narrowed his eyes. “All right, Larry, maybe you’ve had enough.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Larry said, a hint of threat in his voice. “Got me a poker game tonight.”

Maude and Karen looked horrified. “Who invited you to that?” Maude demanded.

“That weird little Chinese guy was talking about it.”

“His name is Chen Xing,” Maude said, visibly furious, “and that doesn’t sound like he extended an invitation.”

“I’ll be there. And I’m gonna clear you witches out.”

Ashley couldn’t listen to any more of his nasty remarks. He made her skin crawl, the sight of him alone enough to twist her stomach. Standing with him now, listening to his venom, she had a horrible feeling settle in her gut—something other than the disgust he evoked in her.

“Excuse me,” she muttered, and didn’t allow time for anyone to protest as she slipped away.

She didn’t get far, however. The navy-suited gentleman caught up with her as she made it back to the edge of the dance floor, grabbed her wrist gently and brought her to a stop.

“Hey. You okay?” he asked, letting go of her and pushing his hands into his pockets. There was a certain natural charm to him, although he didn’t wear it nearly as well as Preston. “That Larry’s a real sleaze ball.”

She couldn’t agree more. “Why is he even here?”

“He’s probably the richest guest here—a key investor, if Alcott gets his way.”

“He’s a pervert,” Ashley concluded bluntly, pushing a smile onto the man’s face.

“Yeah, that too,” he said, then held out his hand. “I’m Frank. You get any more trouble from him, come find me.”

He was a good backup, she supposed, but she could handle herself—and if she needed help, she had her own knight. She didn’t need Frank, despite his good intentions, but she smiled all the same and shook his hand, thanking him politely before sending him on his way.

She spent the next hour or so with Maggie and Cami, both of whom were wiped from all the dancing and mingling. They commandeered a table near the bar and watched the room a while, chatting loosely. Ashley didn’t tell them about Larry the pervert, the eccentric sisters, or Frank the rescuer. She wasn’t really sure why.

Preston found her eventually. He’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and his shining eyes indicated a few too many whiskeys with the other gentlemen. But his smile was wide and all for her, and she didn’t resist when he extended a hand to her and said, “You owe me a dance.”

“I do?” she asked coyly, while Maggie muttered something to Cami and disappeared with her.

“Yes.” He pulled her up and onto the dance floor, arranged them into a hold and, once again, allowed her to sway rather than attempt to dance. It was nice, the quiet few moments together, and she drew in a long breath and relaxed.

“You enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“Actually, yes,” she said, thinking back to her chats with the girls, and then her encounter in the bathroom. “I’ve met some interesting people here tonight.”

“Hopefully not all typical society bores.”

“Like you?”

He smirked down at her. “Ouch.”

They fell into another quiet moment, swaying gently, and he tucked her closer, trailing his hand on her waist around to the small of her back. The shape of him pressed against her was distracting, and she had to focus on what her feet were doing.

“How’s the whole investment thing going?” she asked, in an effort to keep her head clear.

“Well, unless some people go back on their hand shakes…I actually think we might’ve gotten somewhere tonight.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Fingers crossed,” he said, and looked at her like he was trying to work something out. “But don’t think about that for now. I didn’t ask you to dance so we can talk business.”

She swallowed, because she knew that tone, that look in his eye. She’d seen it a few times now, and every time, without fail, it made her knees weak.

“Then why did you?”

“To spend time with you,” he said, voice low. “Touch you.” He smoothed his palm down the rise of her buttocks, making her breath stumble as heat flooded her veins. “Stay behind tonight. I’ve got a small helicopter at my disposal; it can take you back after everyone else has gone…”

“We shouldn’t start this again.”

“No, I won’t,” he murmured. And then, after a beat: “Let me kiss you.”

“What?” Her heart had leapt into her throat and she could barely get the word out.

“I’ve been thinking about it all night,” he said, eyeing her mouth. “No strings.” They’d stopped dancing—or swaying—and he was looking at her like he was starving, like he felt an overwhelming urge and he couldn’t resist it. “I just have to taste those lips again,” he added, and leaned into her, while her brain completely whitewashed of all thought except the sudden thrill of experiencing his fierce kiss once more.

The scent of the alcohol on his breath ghosted over her face, and reality wrenched itself back into her mind.

This only ever seemed to happen when he’d had a drink.

“I need some air,” she said, pulling out of his hold and hurrying away as quickly as her heels could carry her.

“The weather’s not very fun out there,” Preston called after her, concern in his voice.

She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

But she should’ve listened. The minute she made it out onto the balcony, she was bombarded with icy-cold wind that punched the breath right out of her, leaving her an instant shivering mess. She gasped and stumbled backwards, and nearly jumped in fright when something silky fell over her shoulders.

Preston had followed her out, and now she wore his jacket while he stood there in a thin white shirt, freezing to death for her.

“I’m not trying to hound you,” he said, almost hollering over the roar of the wind. It was obvious how much he was trying to prevent his teeth from chattering. “I came to apologize. And to bring you back inside—it’s crazy out here.”

Choosing to brush their charged moment on the dance floor aside for now, Ashley focused on the more pressing issue at hand. “The road’s disappearing,” she shouted, pointing to the wash of white covering the land before them. “Everyone needs to leave now if they want any chance of leaving at all tonight. The cars won’t make it through after another hour or so.”

He stared out into the night, the luminous white of the snow reflected in his eyes. “You’re right. The rooms here are not ready to hold guests. Come on.”

She lost him in the commotion that followed his announcement over the PA system. The room erupted into mild panic, everyone rushing around to grab their belongings and organize their drivers, swarming out of the ballroom in great muttering crowds. It wasn’t the most perfect end to Preston’s evening, but she hoped he’d done enough to reach his goal anyway.

“Ash!” Cami found her in the panic and grabbed hold of her. “You can ride back with us since Preston has to stay until everyone leaves. With this storm, he might have to stay the night, and I know you said you weren’t ready for more… We’ve got a car outside.”

But Ashley had caught sight of the eccentric sisters heading in her direction, and the poker game sprung into her mind. She pulled Preston’s jacket tighter around herself.

“Um—I kinda—”

“There you are!” Karen said. “You’re still on for the game, right? I’m sure there’s a room for you upstairs. You don’t need to worry about this silly storm.”

Ashley, making a snap decision she would no doubt regret later, turned back to Cami and said, “I’m playing poker.”

Cami blinked at her. “What?”

It was a fair question. Maybe the wine was having an effect on Ashley, or maybe the weirdness of the night had touched something in her brain. Or maybe the part of her that longed for her grandfather who spent many weekends teaching her to play this game, was now ruling her head. She shrugged, and hazarded, “You only live once?”

Staring at her for a long moment as if trying to work out what the hell was going on with her, Cami then tutted and waved it off. “You’re crazy and I love you. Call me in the morning? Let me know you’re all right?”

“I will. Where’s Maggie?”

“Over there, half passed out.” She pointed to Maggie, who was being guided out of the room by her doting husband, and leaned in to whisper in Ashley’s ear, “Between you and me, I think she’s pregnant.”

Ashley’s heartstrings twanged. “Jesus, really?”

“No drinking, getting tired really easily, and look at her… You can just see the glow.”

Now that Cami had mentioned it… “Wow.”

“I know, right?” Cami said, beaming fiercely delighted eyes at her. “Anyway, I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Have fun!” she said, now eyeing Preston, who was making his way over to them. “Enjoy the poker, too,” she added in filthy tones, and Ashley couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re terrible,” she muttered. Cami winked and wandered off to find Drew.

“Poker?” Preston asked, catching the end of the conversation. Ashley smiled at him.

“Is that helicopter ride still available?”

He made an apologetic grimace. “It’ll probably be morning before the pilot feels it’s safe enough to fly. I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten out there. But I can get you a car now, if…” The disappointment coming from him was almost palpable—that he wanted her to stay, but the onset of the blizzard was putting the brakes on his plans.

And truthfully, she didn’t want to leave, not yet—even if it meant staying here all night, like back in her college days, pulling the all-nighters with a good group of friends, a few bottles, and a frayed deck of cards.

She wouldn’t have a group of friends with her this time, but she would have Preston, and in some ways that could be even better. Her heart seemed to think so, judging by the way it thudded against her ribs at the idea of being locked in here with him, warm and secluded…

“There’s actually gonna be a poker game once everyone leaves. Probably go through the night. You in?”

His face clouded over, his whole body language shutting down. “No, it’s not really my thing. But you should enjoy it. I think one of the smaller rooms upstairs is heated. It’s a staff room, but that’s all I have left here. I’ll make sure it’s prepared for you when you’re done. And of course, you’re welcome to stay in my room whenever you’re done, no strings attached,” he said, before abruptly walking away.

The smile died on Ashley’s face as quickly as it arrived, and she couldn’t help but think she’d said something wrong. She had the overwhelming urge to follow him, stay with him, let him keep her warm through the storm—except he’d already disappeared, sweeping through the grand double doors like something out of an old Hollywood movie and vanishing into the depths of his resort. Almost as if he was angry with her.

But she didn’t have time to let worry overtake her thoughts—Karen whisked her away, muttering about the shape of Preston’s ass in those gray pants.