Unmasked / Inked. Stefanie London

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      And yet they were changing in a stable. Go figure.

      Lainey reached for the zip at Imogen’s back and tugged. It stuck at the halfway point for a moment, then slid up. It was a snug fit, but it would do.

      “How do I look?” she asked.

      Imogen’s dress was all black lace and vampy satin—a far cry from her usually sedate approach to fashion. Her jewelled mask hid most of her face, and with a plummy stain coating her usually bare lips, Imogen was transformed.

      “Incredible.”

      “And you...” Imogen squealed. “That hair makes you look like a totally new person.”

      Lainey had spent years trying to get her naturally dark blond hair to the perfect shade of Gwen Stefani platinum. But earlier that week she’d thrown years of careful bleaching and maintenance down the drain to turn herself into a fiery redhead.

      The shade was a vibrant ruby colour that made her fair skin seem even more porcelain. It also warmed up her hazel eyes and gave her total Little Mermaid vibes. So much that she was starting to wonder why she’d never been a redhead before.

      Imogen reached up to adjust the glittering fabric on Lainey’s dress. “You’re going to cause trouble for every man in that ballroom.”

      The skimpy straps and plunging neckline left no room for a bra. And there was a slit up the side of the twinkling silver skirt, which made her feel all kinds of exposed. But that was exactly why she’d picked it. If she was going to do something stupid and reckless, then she was damn well going to look hot while she did it.

      “One wrong move and I’m going to flash my boobs,” she said with a rueful grin. “Chances are Damian will totally ignore me and I’ll end up scandalising Melbourne’s society crowd.”

      “At least you’re here for a positive reason,” Imogen said. She sounded stressed, though it was hard to tell with the mask covering her face.

      “Everything will work out okay. You’ve thought this plan through. You’re looking after your sister,” Lainey said. “But you’re not doing anything wrong.”

      Imogen nodded. “Exactly. I just want to get evidence that he’s cheating.”

      “Wouldn’t you’d rather find out he’s not cheating?” Lainey raised a brow.

      Imogen pressed her lips into a flat line. “Don’t judge my plans and I won’t judge yours, okay?”

      “Fair enough.” Lainey held her hands up. “I solemnly swear not to mention it again.”

      “Good.” Imogen nodded and scooped up the uniforms they’d worn to sneak into the venue with the owner of the catering company. “We can leave these here and Marie will pick them up later.”

      Lainey nodded. “What’s she getting out of this, by the way?”

      “I’m putting her on the preferred suppliers list at work,” Imogen said. “We use caterers all the time, so it would be a big chunk of business for her. We’re supposed to put all new suppliers through a panel vetting process, but I just told my boss we should use her and he said okay.”

      “Privilege of being the CEO’s right-hand lady?”

      “Exactly, and I know she’s amazing at her job so I don’t feel too bad about doing it. You know I don’t normally bend the rules, but I figure she’s going out on a limb for me...” Guilt flickered across Imogen’s expression, but she quickly refocused. “Anyway, let’s get this show on the road.”

      “Knock ’em dead.” Lainey gave Imogen’s hands a squeeze and then hung back while her friend headed along the building toward the side entrance.

      Imogen paused at the corner, where a path curved through the garden, and peeked around. She held up her hem, a handful of black lace and satin exposing some strappy silver sandals with a sensible midheight heel. Lainey smiled. So there was a hint of the real Imogen under her costume.

      A second later, Imogen flashed Lainey a thumbs-up. And then she was gone. The plan was for Lainey to count to thirty and then make her way down the same path.

      Digging into her clutch, she pulled out a round compact mirror. Unlike the sleek dress, fancy shoes and glamorous mask, the compact was rough around the edges. Well loved. The gold clasp was tarnished and the embroidered rose on the lid had seen better days. But tonight it was her talisman. The compact had belonged to Lainey’s grandmother, a woman who’d done fearless things in the name of love. Like giving up marriage to a wealthy aristocrat and forgoing a life of privilege, causing her family to cut her off and cast her out. She’d given it all up for him—her comfort, her security, her family.

      She would understand why Lainey was doing something outrageous to have one night with the guy of her dreams.

      “One cat dog, two cat dog, three cat dog,” Lainey murmured, forcing herself not to speed through her count using the technique her mother had taught her when she was little. “Four cat dog, five cat dog...”

      Around twenty cat dogs, she couldn’t take it anymore. Touching her fingertips to the black lace mask, she stifled a nervous giggle. Glimmering beads brushed her cheeks every time she moved her head. Combined with the scandalous dress, it made her feel fiercely powerful. Sexy in a way she hadn’t ever experienced.

      Lainey’s high heels made clicking sounds against the stone path. As she turned the corner, a courtyard opened in front of her. The area was large, surrounded by standard white roses and gardenia trees. The scent was intoxicating. Two large glass doors opened to the ballroom, and music spilled out into the air. Lainey’s stomach fluttered.

      A waiter holding a tray of wineglasses passed by, and she flagged him down. She’d seen him earlier when they’d entered with the catering assistants. But his eyes swept over her without a hint of recognition.

      Phew.

      Lainey headed toward the open doors. She wanted to get the lay of the land—see how many people were inside and figure out whether it would be hard to find Damian. The Carmina Ball was in full swing.

      Sucking in a breath so big it caused the boning in her dress to dig into her ribs, Lainey stepped into the ballroom. It was like something out of a movie—mysterious masked men in tuxedos, women in incredible gowns, the glittering chandeliers that looked as though they belonged in the castle from Beauty and the Beast. It was all her fairy-tale romance-movie dreams come to life.

      Was it even real?

      She brought her wineglass to her lips, revelling in the flutter of her heart against her rib cage. Yes, it was real. And tonight, she was going to bring her longest-held fantasy to life.

       CHAPTER THREE

      DAMIAN DIDN’T MIND wearing a suit. Hell, he didn’t even mind wearing a tux. But being forced to look like a cross between the Phantom of the Opera and an Eyes Wide Shut reject was pushing the limits.

      The ballroom of Patterson House stretched out before him, resplendent with gold detailing. The building had been erected in the late 1800s, СКАЧАТЬ