Ethan's gaze lingered on the mask.
"Seeing you home safely is basic courtesy. It would put my mind at ease."
The crowd surged around them.
Sophia's lips curved slightly.
"If Mr. Sullivan is willing to wait, then by all means."
"I've always been patient." The crisp scent of bamboo clung to him. "You know that, Sophia."
She fell silent.
He was undeniably wild.
But Sophia didn't want to reminisce now.
Images from the lounge flashed through her mind—Ethan pinning her fingers, coaxing her to whisper his name again and again.
It had started as a battle of wills, but when she finally uttered "Ethan," he became more sensitive, more impassioned than usual.
Then she'd playfully wrapped her hands around his neck, teasing his name against his ear.
Playing with fire always led to burns.
Her mermaid gown had ended up in tatters, her lingerie dangling precariously from his arm.
Their clash had been evenly matched.
Sophia's pulse quickened, though her expression remained unreadable.
"I'll go ahead. See you later."
"Later."
She turned toward the banquet hall.
Ethan watched her retreating figure, his dark eyes unreadable.
That confession of attraction had been buried in his heart for too long.
He'd never met a woman like Sophia—dangerous, intoxicating, capable of outmaneuvering him.
Yet an impenetrable fog always stood between them.
Unseen. Unfathomable.
Countless secrets piled like walls.
Sophia had her own path to walk. She shouldn't be dragged into the Sullivan family's turmoil, nor should she bear the brunt of their hidden daggers.
Most importantly, she was never short of male company.
Ethan didn't leave. His eyes flicked toward the shadows. "Come out."
After a beat of silence, a figure emerged from behind a pillar.
"Oops. Busted."
Julian didn't look the least bit embarrassed as he grinned and shrugged.
"I was just waiting to walk with you. There are contracts needing your signature. Figured I'd give you two some privacy while Sophia was here."
He sighed dramatically.
"Seems Sophia's out of your league, Ethan. You're in over your head."
Ethan shot him a sidelong glance. "Worry less about me and more about Isabella. As the only heir, I hear the Robinson family only accepts live-in sons-in-law. Her suitors could form a parade to France."
"I'm not the marrying kind."
"Really? That priceless jewelry set you gifted her—the one rumored to be irreplaceable—held special meaning, didn't it?"
"It was just compensation."
"You're not that generous."
Julian had no retort.
Ethan's tongue remained as sharp as ever.
Even Julian couldn't define his feelings toward Isabella.
They bickered constantly, yet strangely, he never disliked her.
Ethan clapped him on the shoulder, amusement glinting in his dark eyes.
"Focus on getting yourself married off before meddling in others' affairs."
With that, he strode toward the banquet hall.
Julian groaned at the ceiling.
Back-to-back verbal jabs.
Was this his unlucky year? Why was everyone around him so impossible?