Stephanie Julian - By Private Invitation

Not always in that order.

Tonight, it was the reverse.

From his vantage point at the Italian marble bar in the second-floor ballroom, he surveyed Haven Hotel’s annual New Year’s Eve Masquerade.

Excited laughter filled the air, along with good music, the mouth-watering aroma of gourmet food, and dry-mouthed sensuality. Beneath it all, he heard a satisfied hum.

Jared loved that hum. It gave him a measure of satisfaction comparable only to the buzz from good champagne. Or great sex.

After five years in the hotel business, he and his brother, Tyler, had done exactly what they’d set out to do. They’d created a hedonist’s playground.

From the swanky Frank’s Bar and Asian fusion restaurant Dome on the first floor to the fourth-floor, invitation-only Salon. From the fantasy suites that were booked solid all year to the Indulgence Spa on the third floor.

Haven was a place to have fun, let loose, give in to your fantasies. The ultimate adult playground.

Nothing at all like the stuffy grandeur of his father’s hotels.

“Jared, love, dance with me.”

He turned, smile already in place for the luscious blonde dressed in a slinky red gown reminiscent of a Golden Age starlet. “Sorry, Jane. I’m on duty tonight.”

Jane Collins pouted her collagen-enhanced lips. “I can’t believe how much of a bore you can be when you’re having so much fun.”

Jared took a sip of champagne to stifle a laugh. Weird but true. “I’m sure there’re more than enough single men here to amuse you.”

Trailing blood-red fingernails down the front of his shirt, the twice-divorced boutique owner sighed theatrically. “Of course. But I wanted to play with you tonight.”

Jared swallowed a sharp-edged retort. His grandmother had instilled too many manners for him to deliberately brush off a lady. But tonight he refused to be tied down. Tonight was for mingling and dancing and, later, even more pleasurable activities.

It was not for dancing to Jane’s tired tune all night. Been there, done that, smacked that ass , he thought. Thank God he’d been smart enough not to invite her to the Salon later.

“As much fun as that sounds”—Jared injected just the right amount of regret into his tone—“I do have a job.”

Luckily, after another unsuccessful minute trying to garner his undivided attention, Jane spotted another eligible bachelor, this one a lawyer, and glided off in his direction.

Allowing Jared to return his full attention to the only mistress he’d never tire of—the hotel.

New people in and out every day. Challenges to overcome. Problems to solve.

Parties to plan. Jared lived for a good party.

This one was off to a good start. But it was the invitation-only event scheduled for later tonight that put a true smile on his lips.

Last year’s first Salon Games had been a carefully guarded secret. He’d chosen each of the ten participants personally, laid out the rules explicitly, then let it happen.

Everyone had left the next afternoon with a smile. And not one word of it had leaked. Amazing, considering the nature of the games.

But then, those who’d been there had wanted to be invited back.

Looking out over the ballroom, he picked out several of the guests invited to the Salon tonight. A few caught his eye, nodded, then went back to what they were doing. Men and women Jared had known for years, some for most of his life. People who shared the same interests.

People he trusted and who trusted him. There weren’t many he counted in that category.

As his gaze continued around the large room, he saw two new arrivals approach the arched entrance of the ballroom. Two women.

He watched as the maître d’ greeted them and showed them to a table close to the dance floor.

As host for the evening, Jared felt compelled to greet everyone at the party. He started toward the women’s table, speaking briefly to a few people along the way but never losing sight of his original target.

When he reached their table, he waited until they looked up at him before bowing his head.

“Ladies, welcome to Haven. My name is Jared. I hope your table’s satisfactory?”

Pale green and midnight black gazes locked onto him from behind feathered masks. Dressed in fairy costumes, complete with wings, the women had natural beauty that couldn’t be bought at a plastic surgeon’s office.

The brunette in blue was sleek and slim, delicate. Her exotically shaped eyes hinted at an Asian heritage, her mouth a wide bow.

But the redhead…Damn. Her green eyes flashed and held on his, wide and inquisitive, her hair a rich autumn red that fell in curls around her shoulders.

She stared at him for a moment, assessing. Then her smile broke free, a beautiful sight on full lips he’d bet had never been artificially enhanced.

“Thank you,” she said. “It seems the party’s in full swing. We were a little late arriving.”

Jared’s smile widened. “Well, I’m certainly glad you made it. Is this your first time at Haven? I believe I’d remember such beautiful women.”

“Yes, it’s our first time,” the blue fairy answered. “We’re just here for the night.”

“Then I hope you enjoy your evening,” Jared said. “And I’d appreciate if you would each save me a dance tonight.”

When he turned to the redhead, her smile had turned downright sultry. And his body tightened as if she’d stroked a hand over his cock.

“I’d like that dance.” Her voice held no trace of guile, no simpering fakery.

Jared’s heart started a slow, familiar rhythm as he held her gaze. Her smile widened as he straightened.

He liked that smile. It was sexy but uncomplicated. Completely natural.

So unlike the women he typically dated.

As he nodded again, ready to leave, a glint of color caught his eye and his gaze dropped past spectacular breasts to the pin at the bottom of the vee on her dress. The pin looked familiar somehow, pinged something in his brain, some memory. He’d ask about it. Later.

“I’ll be back to collect.” Jared signaled a waitress to their table and headed back to the door, trying to shake off the feeling he’d missed something.

“Jared, honey, this is a lovely party.”

Beatrice Golden sat on a barstool, a Manhattan in one hand, a delicate silk fan in the other. The fan matched the authentic Japanese kimono she wore.

“Hello, Nana. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

His seventy-five-year-old grandmother put her deceptively frail hand on his sleeve, bringing him closer. “The young woman you were just talking to, is she your date?”

He smiled ruefully. “No date, Nana. Not tonight. I’m working. Besides, there are too many beautiful women in the world to tie myself to just one.”

Beatrice tsked and rapped his arm with her fan, her short gray hair swaying around her still-youthful features. “You are going to live to eat those words. I’ve had to give up on Tyler. For the moment. But I plan to see you fall. And soon. Then we’ll see who has the last laugh.” She sighed. “I just wish I had the pin or the ring to give you. The legend—”

“Nana,” he cut her off gently. “You’re going to live forever.” At six-two, Jared had to bend to kiss his tiny grandmother’s wrinkled cheek. “And the legend is just that, a story—”

“No, it’s not.” Beatrice’s voice held firm. “Since those jewels were stolen, our family has had horrible luck in love. Your parents have had such a rough time.” She sighed, shaking her head. “And Tyler’s fiancée. Her death was such a tragedy.”

“You’re right, Nana,” Jared soothed. “Mia’s death was a tragedy.” As is my parents’ marriage. “But believe me, when the right woman shows up, I’ll know it.”