Stephanie Julian - By Private Invitation

A waitress interrupted Annabelle’s thoughts by placing two glasses and an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne on their table. After making sure they didn’t need anything else, she left.

Annabelle took a sip of the champagne, rubbing her nose at the unaccustomed bubbles. She’d traveled all over England and Europe, bits of Africa and the Far East, but until tonight, she’d never imbibed to excess, never flirted with a gorgeous man, and never…jumped off a cliff.

She sighed. Well, she was going to fix at least two of those. “Tonight, I’m going to live a little.”

Near the end of his life, her granddad had harped on her lack of extracurricular activities.

“Get a life, Annie, my belle,” he’d bellow at her. “You can’t spend your days wasting away in this musty shop. Go out, find a man, live a little.”

Bill Elder had died suddenly a year ago, in his sleep, exactly the way he’d wanted to go. He’d lived life to the fullest and one day he was just gone—leaving her orphaned for the second time in her life.

Which probably explained the ill-advised affair with Gary. Damn, if only she’d figured that out five months ago. Would’ve saved her that scene in his office when she’d tossed the filing cabinet at him.

She hadn’t meant to hit him. Not really. She’d only meant to express her displeasure. Except her aim had been a little better than she’d expected. Years of manhandling antique furniture in the shop had given her strong arms.

The metal box had sailed through the air and the edge had glanced off Gary’s narrow shoulder, knocking him to the ground. His eyes wide, he’d scrambled away on the floor, like a crab. The wuss.

His secretary had calmly pulled down her dress, patted him on the head like the dog he was, and walked right past Annabelle.

“Nice throw, Annie,” Carla had drawled as she slinked out the door.

Annabelle had wished she could make as elegant an exit but she’d worked up a good mad by then. That bastard had never gone down on her like that. He’d claimed not to like it.

But there he’d been, with his head between Carla’s thighs. Acting like he loved it. Hell, he hadn’t even looked like that when they’d had sex . It’d been more like porn sex—lots of noise and motion but no substance.

She should’ve known the bastard was cheating on her but she’d been so busy with the shop and…Okay, if she were truthful, she’d admit she just hadn’t cared enough to wonder why he’d break off dates on short notice with lame excuses.

“Would you like to dance?”

Annabelle blinked out of her thoughts to see a blond man dressed as a pregnant nun standing by their table, smiling at her. He had a drink in one hand and a whip in the other, handsome in a bland, vanilla-milkshake sort of way. Not that vanilla milkshakes were bad. Until now, they’d been her favorite. But that was before. Tonight, she’d decided it would be banana splits all the way.

Jared appeared behind the nun, towering over him. “Sorry, Bill, but the green fairy promised this one to me.”

Her gaze met Jared’s, and lust drenched her from head to toe at the sensuality smoldering in his eyes.

No one had ever looked at her like that.

When he extended his hand, she took it without a second thought.

Vaguely, she heard Kate turn down the nun as Jared drew her onto the dance floor. Then a slow, dreamy jazz standard shut out the rest of the noise of the large crowd.

“I didn’t mean to be rude.” Jared’s warm whisper caressed her ear as he eased her against his lean body. “But I couldn’t stand the thought of you in another man’s arms. I hope you can forgive me.”

A laugh escaped her before she could catch it. “That’s a wonderful line. Did you make it up on the spot or have you used that one before?”

Jared blinked, just once, as Annabelle bit back a groan. She couldn’t believe she’d said that. She’d been raised to speak her mind but that…She definitely was no good at flirting, and she was too long out of the loop.

Jared’s face split in a huge grin. “Actually, I just made it up. But you’re right. It’s a line. It also happens to be true.”

She took a deep breath, thankful he hadn’t abandoned her on the dance floor. “I can’t believe I actually said that. Please let me add that I’m glad you asked. I’d hoped to see you again.”

Jared’s fingers tightened around hers. “And why wouldn’t I ask? You’re the most beautiful woman here.”

She laughed again, unable to help herself. She knew it was another line, but really, what did it hurt? She was determined to have a good time tonight and Jared seemed determined to give her one. “And you are the most proficient dancer I’ve ever had the pleasure of partnering. Did you take lessons?”

“No, my grandmother taught me.” He held her a little closer, the warm material of his pants leg brushing against the inside of her bare thigh, making her want to clasp both thighs around it. “She believed any young man who could dance had a leg up on the riffraff who never took the time to learn.”

“Your grandmother sounds like a great lady.”

Jared winked at her. “She’s one of a kind. So, I didn’t get your name earlier.”

“It’s…Belle.” She didn’t want to lie, nor did she want to reveal more just yet. This was a night for fantasy, after all. “What do you do at the hotel, Jared?”

“I facilitate various activities, like tonight’s party. And you?”

“I’m an antiques dealer.”

“Really.” His brows raised in interest. “What kind?”

“My shop specializes in early American and European furniture but my true passion is art.”

“Is the pin one of your finds?”

Mesmerized by his voice and those blue eyes, his question puzzled her for a moment, until she followed his gaze down to the pin on her dress.

“Oh, no. Not mine. My grandfather acquired it several years ago. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Granddad couldn’t believe it was mixed in with a load of costume jewelry. The large stone is an orange citrine. The smaller ones are diamonds and sapphires. The intricacy of the metalwork shows a fine hand, we think European. I’ve occasionally tried to discover its maker but I haven’t been able to so far.”

Jared tried not to stare but couldn’t help himself. It seemed like such a far-fetched idea but he couldn’t ignore the voice in his head telling him this was one of Aphrodite’s Tears, part of the set his grandmother had mentioned earlier. The pin and matching ring had been stolen so many years ago, he’d never seen anything but pictures. Still, this pin fit the description exactly.

If it was…Holy shit. How much of a coincidence would that be?

“I’m sorry.” Annabelle’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I must be boring you talking shop.”

His gaze lifted to catch embarrassment staining what he could see of her cheeks beneath her mask. Her gaze slid away across the crowded dance floor.

“You’re not boring me. In fact”—he surprised her by spinning her in a tight circle before drawing her close again—“I find it fascinating. Tell me more.”

Belle’s eyes lit up as she smiled. Not a sexy smile, designed to seduce, but a grin of pleasure. She started talking about antiques, provenance and historical significance, words that held no meaning at the moment.

Her bright eyes held his attention. He would gladly drown in that green gaze. Typically, women attracted him first with their looks. He was a man, after all. But he bored easily if there was nothing but air behind the beauty.

This woman’s intelligence intensified her beauty.

And she could be wearing his grandmother’s pin.

No, it couldn’t be. His grandmother mentioning it earlier had just made him think it was. That’s all.