I parked my car in front of city hall and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The sky was spitting snow, and I was thankful I'd added the faux fur shawl to my outfit at the last second. I brushed the front of my emerald green formal dress, the satin cool and smooth under my fingertips. The skirt swished around my ankles as I began to walk down the streets of Spelling. It had been a tradition to stroll the square with Hazel on Winter Spirits day before everything started at the hotel, and I wanted to keep that up, even if it all seemed wrong.

I nervously twirled a dark-blonde curl around my finger as I walked, holding my breath in apprehension; I could only hope that I'd see Soren sometime tonight. Surely, he wouldn't miss out on the festival and his one night to break free from the confines of the spell that bound him to the property. He had to look forward to this night above all others and know this was our one chance to bed the rules that kept us apart.

My black sequined and lace masquerade mask hung from my index finger and swung against my leg, and I pulled the stole tighter around my bare shoulders. I smiled at the town citizens as I walked, most of them dressed to the nines and ready for the dance. Music in the distance hummed through the night air, a waltz. I couldn't stop the corner of my mouth from pulling up.

Hazel would have loved this sort of thing. It was mysterious, elegant, and a little bit sexy. I wish I had been the one to think of it.

There was always something mystical about tonight—the one night when my ancestors' spell gave two men a very small taste of freedom. I'm sure it was meant to be another way to torture them. Let them see firsthand all the things they were missing and snatch it away again. My early family line was not comprised of compassionate women, and after what she did to me, it turned out that tradition was alive and well in Raven.

I tied my mask around my face, thankful for the small bit of anonymity it gave me. Like the Hyde brothers roaming the streets of Spelling, I too was out of place on this magical evening.

The sound of steady footsteps came from behind me, echoing off the brick storefronts. I twirled around, the fabric of the dress rustling with the movement. A chill ran down my spine when I found nobody there; in fact, I was the only person on the sidewalk. I picked up my pace and concentrated on the clicking of my heels against the cement—each swift step was echoed by that of another.

I turned a corner, hoping to lose my invisible stalker. "Get it together, Gem," I told myself. But when I looked down the shadowed street, lined with gas lamps, I knew my imagination was going to get the best of me. The creepy mansion that had been the home of Gerald Spelling, the town's founder and a wealthy sea merchant, loomed in the distance. This street had always reminded me of some seedy dark alley where Jack the Ripper took the lives of his victims.

My heart pounded and my breath blew out of my mouth in plumes of fog. I was coming up on the locked gates of the estate and would reach a dead end if I didn't change course. The pillars that held up the wrought iron fencing were adorned with stone gargoyles who sneered at me as I jogged past them. River rock alcoves housed concrete benches that were meant to give pedestrians a reprieve from the sun on a hot day, but tonight, they did nothing but creep me out. They were hiding places for the things that go bump in the night.

No sooner did I have the thought than an arm snaked around my waist and a hand clasped to my mouth.

"What exactly are you running from, sweetheart?" The words were spoken with a breathy, deep cadence, and I knew exactly who had me in their clutches.

I turned around to face my captor and instantly breathed in the scent of saffron and sandalwood, and when I lifted my eyes, the gaze I met was striking electric blue, the gaze I'd been so desperately missing for the past six weeks.

The black mask he wore couldn't disguise that stare, but something about the bewitching aura of the night had me feeling wicked.

"Oh, my," I whispered in a startled but flirtatious tone. "I thought I heard someone following me, and I got a little bit scared. But now that I see it's such a handsome stranger, I'm okay with it."

Soren leaned in and said, "But what if this stranger wants to do terrible, naughty things to your sweet little body?" He slipped his arms around me and pulled me closer; he was clearly feeling the effects of being away from each other for so long too.

I reached up and trailed a finger along his jawline and down the center of his chest. "I don't think terrible and naughty belong in that sentence together. Anything naughty you want to do to me is more than welcome. It's been six weeks since I've been in the company of a gentleman, and let's just say..." I stood on my tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "I'm hanging on by a thread."

He pulled me deeper into the alcove, and I took a moment to admire the way his black suit hugged his body. Not bothering with a tie and leaving the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone made the formal attire edgy and perfectly Soren.

He removed my stole, let it fall to the bench, and pressed me against the stone wall. The off the shoulder cut of my dress left my upper back bare and the freezing rocks chilled my skin. But my discomfort was short-lived when his lips met mine. Our masks brushed together, reminding me that we were in disguise and hidden in a dark corner where we could be caught at any moment. It felt so forbidden and erotic.

I rolled my head back against the wall as Soren peppered my neck and collarbone with deep, frantic kisses, and his hands shifted through the layers of chiffon until he found the slit that ran high in the front of my dress. His mouth stretched into a smile against the exposed swells of my breasts. "One might think that you had every intention of this very thing happening to you tonight," he said, his fingers tracing the thin lace covering the part of me that ached for him the most.

I tangled my fingers in his hair and tugged gently until his gaze lifted to mine. "This is exactly what I wanted to happen tonight," I breathed, pulling his face to mine and running my tongue along the seam of his lips. "I've longed for this moment for weeks now. And it's everything I imagined it would be." I nipped at his bottom lip and slid my hand between us, gripping the proof of his desire.

Soren moaned into my mouth and lifted my leg, wrapping it around his hips. "I've missed you so much. You don't know how many hours I spent locked in my room daydreaming about touching you again."

A pang of sadness ran through me and Archer's words about Soren's state of mind flashed through my head. I shoved them into the dark recesses of my mind and brought myself back to this moment and the feelings we were experiencing now.

I released the button at the front of his slacks and lowered the zipper. "Did you touch yourself like this when you thought of me?" My hand slid into his pants and circled the smooth, hard length of him.

"Fuck yes. But it never felt as good as when you touch me."

The thought of him pleasuring himself to daydreams of me was almost too much to handle. "It doesn't, does it? But every time I came without you, I still cried out your name," I murmured against his mouth, keeping my hand wrapped around him, squeezing and pulling gently.

He slid the lace covering me to the side and slipped his fingertips into my wet folds. He pressed against the bundle of nerves at the top and glided his fingers back, sinking them inside of me. "Did you pretend your fingers were me?"

I groaned and pushed against his hand, longing for more of him. "Every time, but it's not the same, Soren," I said, sliding his boxers down a couple inches, springing him free. "I need you now. Please."

"I never knew just how badly I needed to hear those words from you." He removed his fingers from me and brought them to his mouth, licking them one by one. Squatting before me, he lowered my panties and placed them in his pocket before kissing the smooth skin just above my sex. Soren stood, brushed my skirt away from my thighs and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him and buried my face in the crook of his neck as he entered me. There was no time to adjust, no gentle strokes, just the raw need to be one with me.

Soren gave little regard to those who might pass by as he praised the way my body took him in and hugged him tight. He growled with his pleasure and promised that he would take me over and over again until I told him to stop.

But I would never get enough of him; I knew that now. I rolled my hips against him and sucked the soft skin on his neck, probably leaving red marks as I went, but I couldn't control myself. I was starving, and he was the only nourishment that would fulfill my craving.

"Soren," I murmured, feeling my core begin to contract. "I'm going to..." A moan severed the words in my throat, and I whimpered his name.

That was all it took for him to lose himself. His fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of my neck, and he pulled as he spent himself inside of me.

He kissed me so sweetly that it was almost funny after the moment we just had. He held me close, giving me a moment to find the strength to stand on my own feet. For the second time tonight, he knelt before me. This time, he removed the handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned me before tossing it in the waste bin.

I cleared my throat and glared up at him with a cocked brow. "My panties, Mr. Hyde."

He looked like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he pulled them from his pocket and held them for me to step in.

"Thank you, sir. Now, I think it's time to take me dancing," I said, straightening my mask and looping my arm through his.