Catching Zayn’s arm in her bony talon as they passed, Roz hissed, “The unmasking will happen at the end of your dance! You’ll have to take the mask off for her—there’s a clasp in the back.” Then she let them go. Zayn led Mina to the dance floor, a pathway clear­ing before them. Other dancers left the floor as they approached the center, a warm spotlight finding them as they came to a stop, facing each other. He wasn’t sure whether it was due to the rush of success in dodging Roz, or simply the primal effect of Mina’s radiant glow in the spotlight, but although they were surrounded, the rest of the room slowly disap­peared as he looked at her. Reaching out his arms, he took her by the waist and pulled her body flush against his. As tall as she was in the heels and the mask, her head still came only to his shoulder, allowing him to rest his cheek on the smooth front of her mask, his own expression shielded by the emanating rays. Her dress was a warm second skin beneath his palm and her lush curves pressed against the hard planes of his own…