Married By Mistake

the heavy brass knocker, and let it fall with a thud. Instantly, the door was opened by a man in uniform, whose eyebrows shot up.
    Sam stepped inside.
    And realized immediately the advantage an invitation would have given him.
    “So,” he said to the doorman, as he surveyed the sea of women dressed in bright evening gowns and tuxedo-clad men, “it’s not a fancy-dress ball, then?”
    “No,” the man agreed. “Just masked.”
    Sam sent up a brief prayer of thanks that he’d resisted the suggestion of the girl in the costume shop that he paint an authentic eighteenth-century beauty spot on his cheek.
    “Sir, do you have an invitation?” the doorman asked.
    Sam decided he’d had enough of chatting to the hired help. He’d screwed up on the costume front, but he still had his mission. Clutching his cushion and glass slipper, he stepped forward and paused in the entryway, scanning the crowd for Eloise.
    “Hey!” the doorman called from behind him, but Sam ignored him.
    There she was, stunning in dark green velvet, a dress that molded her slim waist and showed she had enough curves to satisfy any man. Her gold-and-green mask rendered her mysterious, exotic, but still the Eloise he...loved. Yes, loved, dammit.
    He’d behaved like an idiotic schoolboy the past three years. But over that time, his feelings for Eloise had grown into an unshakeable love. If she wouldn’t have him...
    Her eyes met his across the room. He imagined them widening with shock beneath her mask, as much that he’d dared to arrive uninvited as with surprise at his costume. She raised her hand to her lips, but Sam saw the corners of her mouth quirk. She was laughing at him.
    Declaring his love for her now would doubtless send her into hysterics.
    Sam tasted bitter disappointment, and swallowed. So the witness hadn’t yet reached the stage of enlightenment that he’d hoped. It was his job to fix that.
    He nodded curtly to Eloise, shook off the restraining hand of the doorman, then strode into the crowd, away from her.
    * * *
    A DAM WAITED OUTSIDE Casey’s apartment until eleven o’clock, growing increasingly despondent, then annoyed.
    She’d better not be out on a date.
    He pushed away the unreasonable jealousy that thought provoked. He wanted to see Casey tonight, but had to accept that might not happen. The evening might be a disaster for him, but he’d better not disappoint Eloise by missing her birthday party.
    When Adam pulled into Eloise’s driveway, things started to look a whole lot better. In the glow of the fairy lights threaded around the pillars on the porch, he saw his Aston Martin sitting right by the front door.
    Elated, he ran up the steps and into the house. People thronged the foyer, the staircase, every available space to the marquee out the back. Adam made his way toward the ballroom.
    He saw her immediately. Casey, in the arms of a man he didn’t recognize. But he did recognize the sappy smile the guy was giving her.
    As Adam watched, the man leaned close and whispered something in Casey’s ear. Adam stiffened, his hands clenched at his sides.
    At a light touch on his arm, he turned. It was Eloise, resplendent in dark green velvet and a green-and-gold mask.
    “Adam, darling.” She patted his cheek below the blue domino mask that didn’t hide his identity one bit. “You made it.”
    “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said formally, his gaze back on Casey, who appeared to be smiling at something that jerk had said.
    “You’ve been unbearably slow these past months, but you’re not too late, and that’s all that matters.”
    “Huh?” Adam turned back to Eloise, who was also looking at Casey. Of course, his stepmother had known she would be here tonight, but had chosen not to mention it to Adam. No doubt part of some elaborate scheme to bring them together.
    Typical. Didn’t she know he had this all mapped out?
    But gratitude for her good intentions welled in his heart, constricting his chest. “Thanks,” he said gruffly.
    Eloise smiled at him, tears in her eyes. “Go,” she ordered. “Claim your bride, before Richard Lovington III nibbles her ear off.”
    Further realization dawned, halting Adam in his steps. “Your birthday’s not till November,” he accused her. “This party isn’t for you. It’s for me—and Casey.”
    Eloise sighed, but the look in her eyes was far from penitent. “It’s the bridefest, darling. I know I shouldn’t have, but I—”
    Adam hushed her with a kiss on the