CHAPTER ONE
MADISON noticed him the moment he walked into the room.
Despite the fact that the hospital’s charity ball was heaving with people, all wearing Venetian masks—and he was dressed the same as all the other men in a dinner jacket, dark trousers, white shirt and bow-tie, plus a plain gold eye mask—there was something about the tall, dark-haired man that set him apart from the others. Some kind of energy that drew her eye.
Not that she was going to do anything about it. Not tonight.
As the chair of the committee for the hospital’s fundraiser ball, Madison Gregory had work to do. Such as making sure that everything was running like clockwork behind the scenes. Being there to troubleshoot any last-minute problems. Charming people with a sweet smile and fixing any little niggles without a fuss.
But so far any problems had been minor, because everything had been planned down to the last detail. There had been a few murmurs at first in committee meetings when she’d suggested a jazz trio—a band she’d heard several times at her favourite club—but Madison had stuck to her guns. In her view, a rock band really didn’t suit a masked ball, and although ballroom dancing had become popular again, thanks to TV shows, having a string quartet playing waltzes would have felt too formal. Whereas soft, easy-listening jazz—bright upbeat numbers and slow crooning ballads that people knew and could dance to—was perfect for a ball.
Now she could even see couples mouthing the words of ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ to each other, smiling and laughing and just having fun on the dance floor. Relief flooded through her. She’d got it right. This was going to work.
With this lovely, warm, relaxed atmosphere, people would be more willing to be parted from their money. They’d buy loads of tickets for the tombola prizes she and the rest of the committee had talked local companies into donating—balloon rides, spa treatments and a chocolate hamper that her cousin and best friend Katrina desperately wanted to win and had bought so many tickets in lieu of being at the ball that Madison had decided, if Katrina didn’t win it, she’d buy her the very same hamper as consolation.
And maybe, just maybe, the fund for the new scanner would reach the halfway point as a result.
Eve, one of the senior nurses from the emergency department, came up to her. ‘Maddie, you’ve been rushing around since an hour before everything started. Why don’t you take a break?’
A little voice in Madison’s head added, And go and find out who the man in the gold eye mask is. She brushed it aside and smiled at Eve. ‘It’s OK. I’m fine.’
‘You paid for a ticket, too,’ Eve reminded her. ‘Which means you’re entitled to dance and have some fun. Just because you’re the chair of the organising committee, it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself.’
‘I am enjoying myself.’ And it was true: Madison loved being in the thick of things. She’d been hard put to choose between specialising in emergency medicine and her final choice, obstetrics, because she enjoyed the buzz of being too busy almost as much as she loved those magical first minutes of a new life.
And then, as the music changed and the pianist seemed to flow seamlessly into ‘It Had to be You’, a hand touched her arm. ‘May I?’ a deep, unfamiliar and slightly accented voice asked.
Even before she looked up, she knew who it was going to be, and a shiver ran down her spine.
The man in the gold mask.
He was looking at her with the most sensual, smouldering gaze she’d ever seen: dark eyes with a hint of green and gold and grey. Stunning.
Not to mention a slow, sweet smile that actually made her knees go weak.
‘I…’ Her throat dried, and Eve gave her a shove.
‘She means yes,’ Eve said sweetly. ‘Have fun.’
Before Madison could protest, she was dancing with the stranger.
Theo had been aware of her all evening: the girl in the floaty dress with the pink and gold cat mask covering her upper face and the most incredible smile. He’d seen her talking and laughing with plenty of people, though he hadn’t actually seen her on the dance floor.
And now he was dancing cheek to cheek with her. Whoever had chosen this music was an utter genius: it had neither the formality of ballroom dancing nor the slight distance of pop. This was old-fashioned dance music, the kind of stuff his grandparents loved—and, so he’d discovered recently, his mother had loved too.
Despite his dance partner’s high-heeled shoes, she wasn’t that tall and he had to dip his head slightly to dance with her, but she felt perfect in his arms. And those blue, blue eyes behind the mask were just stunning. Like a Mediterranean sky on a late summer evening, shading to dark navy at the very edges of her irises. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders—not perfectly straight, but not a riot of curls either. Soft, enticing waves that made him want to tangle his hands in them, feel the silkiness against his fingertips.