flattened by the tight mask—to the flashing warning in her eyes, there was no mistaking who she was.
One of the doctors from the hospital. His hospital.
But there was no way the Madeleine Grimes he knew would have been caught dead in an outfit like this.
Before he could even cobble together a sentence, she nodded. “It’s a very long story.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Exactly.”
He blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Nothing. My sister thought my coming here would be a good idea. She kind of dared me to... Well, she set me up on a—” her eyes went to the floor and stayed there “—blind date.”
Blind date?
He just wasn’t seeing it.
The glare she sent him dared him to say one word. Not likely.
How in the hell would she even be able to tell what her date looked like? Or maybe that was the point—she could be caught up in some kind of weird role-playing fetish.
Only the Madeleine Grimes he knew tended toward uptight and aloof, rather than...
Than what?
He had no idea how her sister could have talked her into climbing into that sexy costume and prowling around the lobby looking for her date. Or why Madeleine would even agree to it.
But suddenly he wanted to find out.
Wanted to understand the thought processes that had led her here. But he would only get that if...
If he got her out of here.
Before he could think better of it, he said, “And this blind date. Do you know his name?”
“Yes, it’s Max Hayward.” Her eyes slid away from his again. “But when I asked at the reception desk, he hadn’t arrived. I think he stood me up. Not that I wasn’t tempted to do the same thing.”
She gave a quick lift of a shoulder. “I’m going to take everything that’s happened tonight as a sign. I’ll leave a note at the desk, telling him I had to leave unexpectedly, just in case.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“I think so too.” Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, Madeleine tilted her head back, revealing the long line of her throat. No hint of the asthma attack she’d had moments earlier. “Man, I can’t wait to get out of this costume.”
She reached for her elbow and peeled a long black glove down her arm, revealing pale creamy skin as she went. She did the same with the other glove. The process was...agonizing.
His muscles tightened. Knock it off, Kaleb. It isn’t like she’s going to strip herself naked in front of all these people. Although he’d had some pretty crazy thoughts when he’d slid off that mask and seen who was sitting there. The contrast between the Madeleine he thought he knew and the one in this room was a little unsettling.
Taking a hurried breath of his own, he struggled to come up with a coherent thought. “Your sister. Does she work at the hospital as well?”
“No.” She gave a quick laugh, scooping her inhaler from her lap and dropping it in her purse. “She faints at the sight of blood. She’s a costume designer, which is another reason I agreed to come. I was supposed to be a living advertisement for her work.”
“Work. There’s actually a market for...?” He gestured toward her outfit, not sure what he was asking.
“Look around you. From theater, to film, to school plays, there’s always a demand for well-made and innovative costumes.” She scrubbed a hand through her hair, ruffling it into an unruly mass that he found oddly appealing. Then she took one of the shiny gloves and held it up. “This is Roxy’s realm, not mine.”
Roxy. A fitting name for the creature in whose suit Madeleine had found herself.
And from the word dare she’d used earlier, Kaleb had to assume that this was not a place Roxy’s sister would have chosen on her own.
“So you’re here under duress?”
“Let’s just say that Roxy said I needed to loosen up. She bet I wouldn’t last two minutes at one of these conventions.”
“And did you?”
“Yes. I would have been here an hour if something from the costume hadn’t set off an attack.”
He smiled and stood, offering her a hand, which she accepted, gracefully rising to her feet and adjusting the belt at her waist. “How long did you agree to stay?”
“Until the party died down. But surely she won’t accuse me of cheating under the circumstances.”
He tensed, hand tightening slightly on hers at the word cheating. Maybe because that was exactly what his ex-wife had done. He, more than anyone, understood her particular circumstances, but he’d still felt like the biggest fool on the planet when he’d discovered what she’d been doing. Hiding her grief behind a mask just as surely as Madeleine had hidden her identity behind hers.
“Do you want to run by the hospital and get checked out before finishing your night?” Releasing her hand, he braced himself to tell her goodbye. Something he should have done ten minutes ago.
“I think I’m done for the evening.” This time, it was Madeleine who smiled, and the flash of white teeth was something he wasn’t used to from her. The woman was always so serious. Then again, this whole night had been like something out of one of those strange dreams. The ones where nothing made sense.
Like this surreal encounter? He glanced around again, really taking in his surroundings this time. Standing in his tuxedo in a roomful of costumed adults, Kaleb felt out of sorts. And definitely out of place. Especially when there was what looked like a deflated cat’s head on the ground beside a beautiful woman.
Even as the thought went through his mind, she reached down and scooped up the mask, letting it sit in the crook of her left arm. “Thank you again. I probably would have been better off going to the hospital’s fund-raiser instead. But I don’t do stuffy...”
The words cut off abruptly, and her teeth sank deep into her lower lip. Rich color swept all the way to her hairline.
Kaleb allowed one side of his mouth to curve up. “You don’t ‘do stuffy’—” he gestured around the room “—but you’ll do this.”
She laughed. And the sound cut straight to his gut. It was rich, melodic and made things tighten in awkward places. Her palms floated up and down, as if weighing her options. “Stuffed shirts or make-believe. I can’t decide.”
Suddenly, he wanted to hear that laugh again. He bent closer. “I would offer to take you upstairs and show you what you’re missing...” When her eyes widened, he realized how the suggestion sounded. “Upstairs, as in the party going on in the fifteenth-floor ballroom.”
“Oh.”
