Unmasked / Inked. Stefanie London

her team and then slip off to change into my costume after the party starts.”

      Lainey sucked on her lower lip. The plan was totally insane. Absolutely and utterly bonkers.

      Speaking of Damian, did you know he scored a ticket to the Carmina Ball?

      Corinna’s words rang in her head like a siren song, along with the teasing thought of being able to do anything she wanted before leaving for London. If Imogen could sneak into the ball in disguise, Lainey could, too.

      What the hell will you do once you get in?

      Anything. A wicked smile curved on her lips. She could do anything at all.

      “I don’t suppose there’s room for a sidekick on this grand adventure?” Lainey asked.

      “Now why would you want to do that?”

      While Lainey was confident in her seduction abilities with men in general, Damian seemed to be her white whale. He resisted her where other men didn’t, and she had her suspicions it wasn’t due to a lack of physical chemistry. They had it in excess. Her body sparked whenever he came near her. And as for him...well, she’d caught him looking at her before with that heated blue gaze. But for some reason, he never acted on her flirty suggestions, never returned any teasing innuendo.

      But the whole point of a masquerade ball was to have a little fun without revealing your identity, right? She could test her theory that they did have something between them.

      Damian McKnight had a hold over her unlike anyone else. He was a man among boys. A total and utter fantasy.

      In quiet moments, she’d wondered if he was the reason she chose to date flighty, flaky types. She could never have Damian, so she went for the opposite—the loose cannons and the jokers. The guys who would never tempt her into falling in love.

      “Let me revise that,” Imogen said, narrowing her eyes. “Do I want to know?”

      “Probably not,” Lainey admitted. Her eyes snagged on the empty doorway where Damian had exited a few minutes ago.

      “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Imogen asked, tracking Lainey’s gaze. “Not a good idea.”

      “Please, Immie,” she said. “He won’t know it’s me. I’ll keep my mask on and I’ll get out of there if things go bad.”

      “I thought you were only trying to wind Corinna up.” Her friend gripped her drink, her hand hovering in midair as though she’d forgotten about it. “Were you serious about him this whole time?”

      “I was,” she admitted. “But he never treated me as anything more than a little sister type. Please. This might be my only chance. Once I’m gone...that’s it.”

      After a moment, Imogen threw her hands in the air. “Fine. But I will not take sides if this blows up.”

      Lainey bit her lip, trying to trap the excitement inside her. One night to see if her fantasies could come true. Then she’d move on and pretend it never happened.

       CHAPTER TWO

      DAMIAN’S WEEK HAD started bad and ended in a steaming pile of crap. Seeing Lainey over the weekend had distracted him with all kinds of inappropriate thoughts, which made him guilty and snappy. He was like Snow White’s rejected eighth dwarf.

      Distraction he could handle. Failure, on the other hand...that was not tolerable.

      “How’d the meeting go?” Aaron reached for his gin and tonic. They’d arranged to meet at their usual place, an older bar that was no longer trendy, which therefore meant you could get decent service. Plus, with the Carmina Ball happening tomorrow night, Damian was sure he’d need to store up all his energy. Parties weren’t really his thing, but getting an invite was akin to being accepted by people who mattered. And while everyone would be in masquerade dress, he’d been told a lot of business was conducted if you knew the right people and asked the right questions.

      It all sounded a little secret society to him.

      He grunted. “Don’t ask.”

      “That good, huh?”

      Damian tossed back his drink, trying to drown the sick feeling in his stomach. Tonight’s meeting was supposed to have been the start of a new era for his management consulting business. Another rung climbed toward the shining carrot dangling a hairbreadth out of reach. Validation. Retribution.

      Instead he’d gotten a big fat face-to-face rejection. In under five minutes, which was salt in the wound. Not that Damian had ever been frightened of the word no. People had knocked him back left, right and centre when he’d first struck out on his own. But this client was different.

      This client was personal.

      “He said he didn’t want to have his family-friendly image associated with someone like me. Like I’m a fucking social pariah. It was one reality show, for Chrissakes.”

      He regretted going on Australia’s Most Eligible more than any other cock-up he’d ever made in his career. He hadn’t been looking for love, like the show proclaimed—none of the contestants were. They wanted publicity. Name recognition. At the time, his PR person had assured him it would bring his fledgling Melbourne-based business to a national level...and it had. Damian had come across well on-screen, and his business had seen a hearty boost in attention after the show aired.

      But mostly it was small stuff. And Damian wasn’t happy with bread crumbs—he wanted the whole damn loaf.

      Only hard work had allowed him to take his business to the next level. He’d put in long hours and hustled to get clients. Now he was operating at a level most people could only aspire to, but his reality TV show days still hung around like a bad smell.

      “And the damn thing is scripted. They turn you into a character—everyone knows that.” Damian shook his head. “But he said people who used ‘cheap tricks’ to get ahead were not the kind of people he wants to do business with. Oh, and apparently those kinds of shows are the reason our society is falling to pieces. Because nobody has ‘good, old-fashioned values’ anymore.”

      “He sounds like a dick. Anyway, you always land on your feet,” Aaron replied with a shrug. “You’ll get another client.”

      “Of course I will. But I want this one.” He turned the empty whisky glass over in his hands. “I just need to figure out how to look more family friendly.”

      “You?” Aaron laughed. “No offence, mate, but you’re not exactly the family-friendly type.”

      Irritation prickled under Damian’s skin. He knew that. Getting divorced six months before he turned thirty had put a sour taste in his mouth when it came to families. And relationships. Which meant he dated with an immovable expiry. It worked for him, kept things mess-free, but after his TV stint, more people took notice of his dating habits. Potential clients included.

      “What company is it?” Aaron asked.

      “McPartlin & Co.”

      The company had started out with a single restaurant and now owned seven fine dining establishments across the country, plus another recently launched in New Zealand. The owner had also signed a lucrative deal with Coles supermarkets. They even had plans for expansion into Singapore, Hong Kong and Dubai, all within the next five years.

      But the owner of the company was notoriously uptight and traditional. Hell, he’d fired one of the best chefs in the world for swearing in the kitchen, because “foul language” shouldn’t be tolerated. Given it wasn’t unusual for chefs to have a colourful vernacular, the news had made headlines.

      “Jerry McPartlin’s company.” Realisation seeped into Aaron’s features. “Your old boss’s client?”

      “That would be the one.”

      “Okay,