But this woman, who went to a series of parties, night after night, barely sliding into her hotel room past dawn, this woman with a dozen admirers always close to her, this woman who seemed to burn through ridiculous amounts of money in mere moments... She knew about the EOD?
So much for secrecy.
Her fingers pressed against his shoulders as Cassidy leaned back to study him once more. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Because he hadn’t given it to her.
“But maybe that’s for the best,” she added with a little nod. “Since this is the end of our acquaintance.”
No, it wasn’t even close to the end.
“When I walk away in a moment, I expect you to do the same,” Cassidy told him.
The woman was giving him orders? Almost cute.
“Head to the back door. It’s ten feet on your right. Go down the stairs there. That’s the entrance and exit used by the staff at this event. None of the guests will notice when you leave.”
Ah, yes, she was giving him an order. And it wasn’t as cute anymore.
“I don’t want to see you again.” She was smiling as she said it, but her eyes had hardened. “Don’t get in my way.”
Then she turned and walked away.
Interesting.
His gaze slid over the slender column of her back. Far too much skin—such golden, perfect skin—was revealed by the plunging back of her gown.
She didn’t look at him. Just headed over to a pretty redhead, and the two women immediately started talking, their voices seemingly happy and light.
Cale realized that Cassidy Sherridan had just dismissed him.
He wasn’t the type of man to be dismissed.
When he had a mission, he executed that mission. An angry debutante wasn’t about to get in his way.
Cale glanced toward the exit she’d indicated, then right back to her.
With a faint smile curving his lips, he started to stalk his prey.
* * *
VOICES ROSE AND FELL around her, and Cassidy tried hard to focus through the rumble—and to ignore the wild pounding of her heart.
He’s gone. You’re in control. You have this—
“Um...Cassidy?” Her friend Genevieve Chevalier’s voice had dropped, so Cassidy had to lean closer to hear her words in the crush of people. “Who is that delectable man coming after you?” A light French accent brushed her words.
Cassidy blinked at her. Wait, had Genevieve just said...coming after...?
Cassidy locked her back teeth even as she gave a smile, the same fake smile that she’d grown used to offering people in the past year. “I’m sure I don’t know who you’re talking about.” She laughed lightly. “But then, this room is full of delectable men.”
Not that she paid those men much notice. Ever since she’d arrived at the charity ball, she’d been totally focused on him.
She glanced over her shoulder, following Genevieve’s gaze. The man in question should have been heading toward the exit. The stranger—the guy with the dark blue eyes, the hard jaw, the face that she found both dangerous and sexy—was striding toward her.
He was tall, around six foot three, with wide shoulders. She’d first noticed him three days ago—mostly because it was hard to ignore a man like him. Especially with that dark intensity that seemed to pulsate off him.
The day she’d noticed him for the first time, they’d been at another party, another glittering ballroom, one decked out in the familiar gold-and-purple colors of Carnival. He’d been leaning against the back wall there, too, watching her.