Henry scanned the room again, searching through the sea of people for Maribella. But the pink domino was nowhere in sight. He was as thoroughly disgruntled as only someone of a generally placid nature could become. Maribella had flirted outrageously with an unknown man. Admittedly him, but she had not known that. Here he had been worrying himself into a state over her getting herself stuck in a loveless marriage for no reason and underneath she was just a heartless flirt. A jade. Where the hell was she?

A small hand in his arm made him jump. But, contrary to the conviction of his senses, it was not Maribella but a lady in a brown domino with a brown mask fixed firmly in place. "Ello, kind sir. You seem strangely lonely."

Henry blinked. The lady's accent was heavily middle European, her tone seductively low.

"I'm all alone," sighed the lady in brown. "And as you can seemed also alone, I thought that maybe we could cheer one another up, no?"

In spite of himself, Henry's glance flickered over the lady. Her voice suggested a wealth of experience yet her skin, what he could see of it, was as delicate as a young girl's. The heavy mask she wore covered most of her face, even shading her lips, though he could see these were full and ripe. The domino, as dominos did, concealed her figure. Exasperated, Henry went another searching glance about the room in vain. Then, he looked down and smiled into the lady's hazel eyes. "What a very interesting idea, my dear. Shall we find somewhere to further develop our mutual acquaintance?"

He slipped an arm around the lady's waist and found that it was indeed very neat. She seemed for one instant to stiffen under his arm but immediately relaxed. Damn Maribella! She had driven him mad. He would forget her existence and let this lovely lady restore his sanity. "What did you say your name was, my dear?"

The lady smiled up at him, a wickedly inviting smile. "Anna Kripinski," she said as she allowed him to lead her out of the ballroom.

They found a deserted ante-room without difficulty and, without waiting time in further, clearly unnecessary talk, Henry drew Anna Kripinski into his arms. She allowed him to kiss her and, to his surprise, raised no demur when he deepened the kiss. His senses were racing and her response drove him wild. He let his hand wander and she merely chuckled softly, the sound suggesting that he had yet to reach her limit. He found a convenient armchair and pulled her on to his lap and let her drive him demented. She was the most satisfying responsive woman he had ever found. Bewildered by his good fortune, he smiled understandingly when she whispered she would leave him for a moment.

He sighed in anticipation and stretched his long legs in front of him as the door clicked shut.

As the minutes ticked by and Anna Kripinski did not return, sanity slowly settled back into Henry's fevered brain. Where the hell was she? She'd deserted him. Just like Maribella. The thought hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. 'Just like Maribella'?' No, he was imagining things. True, Anna Kripinski has aroused him in a way he had begun to think only Maribella could. Hell! She had even tasted like Maribella. But Maribella's domino was pink. Anna Kripinski's domino was brown. And, now he came to think of it, it had been a few inches too short; he had been able to see her pink slippers and the pink hem of her dress. Maribella's favourite colour was pink but pink was, after all, a very popular colour. Damn, where was she? Where were they? With a long-suffering sigh, Henry rose and, forswearing all women, left to seek the comparative safety of the Brown's for the rest of the night.