‘Wow,’ she marvelled, staring all around, trying and failing to take everything in. They were standing in an enormous entrance hall, lit by a series of coloured spotlights and ornate sconces, with chandeliers hanging overhead. A grand staircase swept up the middle of the hall, with costumed couples gliding up and down as though they’d been transported back to the eighteenth century. Around the room was a series of white stone plinths on which living statues slowly moved from one position to the next, as though engaged in a continual slow dance. Acrobats were suspended from the ceiling, tethered in folds of silk, performing an incredible aerial display, while magicians and fortune tellers mingled with the crowd, surprising and delighting.
Issy had attended the Oscars, the Golden Globes and the Baftas with Brad, but the buzz had been nothing like this. It was like entering another world, and it felt as though anything could happen.
‘What shall we do first?’ Issy wondered, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd.
‘Let’s take a look around,’ Brad suggested. ‘And let’s find a quiet corner where I can take my mask off and drink my champagne. Here,’ he said, reaching out for her. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’
His fingers wrapped around hers, and Issy felt a sharp stab of desire at his touch, a sudden longing to have his hands all over her body. She followed him through the tightly packed crowd and felt glad that she was hidden behind her mask, as though her thoughts might be visible on her face. She imagined what it would be like if tonight was reality – if she and Brad were actually a couple, able to hold hands and do whatever they pleased without having to hide. Tonight, at this ball, in the dark, intoxicating atmosphere, it felt as though fantasies might come true.
They passed through to the next room, where a giant feast was laid out. Waiters were circulating with trays of canapés and champagne throughout the building, but here food was piled high on a dining table that must have been thirty feet long, like the centrepiece of a medieval feast.
‘Are you hungry?’ asked Brad.
‘Not yet,’ Issy said honestly. There was so much, it was overwhelming. She felt as though she didn’t need to eat, that the excitement would be enough to sustain her.
‘Then let’s keep going,’ Brad said, plunging back into the crowd with Issy following. This time they climbed the stairs to a minstrels’ gallery with a perfect view of the entrance hall below. Brad led her to the far end, where it was quieter, and they could look down over the balcony at the revellers.
Brad pushed his mask up a little and Issy did the same. The two of them grinned at one another. Brad’s eyes were shining; he looked exhilarated and so handsome that it almost took Issy’s breath away.
‘To an amazing night,’ he said, as he clinked his glass against hers, and drank his champagne in one. ‘No more work, or admin, or accounts.’
Issy’s face fell as the mention of money brought everything flooding back. She’d tried to call her mother a dozen times while she was getting ready, but it was always the same outcome: Darlene didn’t answer and Issy was starting to get worried.
‘What’s the matter?’ Brad asked, seeing her expression.
‘Nothing.’ Issy pasted on a smile, but her eyes betrayed her sadness.
‘Tell me,’ Brad insisted. ‘I don’t want to see you unhappy. If there’s anything I can do to make it better, I’d like to help.’
He’d already done so much and he didn’t know it, Issy thought, as she considered confiding in him. They were having a wonderful night, and if he genuinely wanted to help her, then maybe she should tell him all about her mother, and confess everything she’d done. The words were on the tip of Issy’s tongue before she checked herself.
No, she didn’t want anything to spoil tonight. If Issy told him what she’d done, the evening would be over, she felt sure of it. It might be a selfish decision, but she didn’t want anything to ruin this once-in-a-lifetime moment.
‘Honestly, I’m fine,’ Issy insisted, as she pulled down her mask, hiding her true feelings. ‘Now come on, let’s keep exploring. There’s so much more to discover.’
They came across a room they hadn’t been in before: a sumptuous ballroom, with a chamber orchestra performing classical pieces as couples danced elegantly to the music. It looked like a scene from a period movie, and the two of them watched the incredible spectacle from the outer edges. Issy’s second glass of champagne had given her courage, and she couldn’t help testing Brad.
‘Lexi would have adored this,’ she said carefully. ‘You must be sorry she’s missing it.’
‘I don’t think she’d have enjoyed it as much as you are,’ Brad responded, turning to her. ‘I love how enthusiastic you are about life, the way you throw yourself into every opportunity. You’re so open and dynamic, you’re just … I’m really lucky to have you, Iz.’
A moment passed between them, and Issy held her breath. She sensed that he wanted to say something more, but then the orchestra struck up a new song.
‘Do you waltz?’ Brad asked, a note of amusement in his voice.
‘No,’ Issy replied suspiciously, wondering what he had planned. ‘Do you?’
‘Strangely enough, I do,’ he said, and she could hear the laughter in his voice. ‘I had to learn for a movie. Come on,’ he said, pulling her into the crush of whirling couples.
‘But I don’t know how,’ she protested with a giggle.
‘It’s easy. Just follow my lead. And don’t tread on my feet!’
Brad placed his hand on her back, pulling her in towards him, and Issy caught her breath. Their whole bodies were aligned, only an inch or two between them. She could feel the warmth of his skin, inhaling the crisp, fresh scent of his aftershave, and she fancied she could feel his heartbeat through his costume. It was intoxicating being this close.
Issy gazed up at him but his expression was hidden by his mask, giving nothing away. She wondered if Brad felt the same way, if this irresistible pull in her stomach was reciprocated, or if this was simply like an acting job for him and she was some nameless co-star who would be forgotten as soon as the movie was done.
Brad whirled her around the floor and Issy did her best to keep up, thoroughly enjoying herself. He kept the moves simple, and she had no trouble following him. She felt light-hearted, the two of them having so much fun together. Issy pressed against him as he held her closer, her corseted breasts pushing against his muscular torso, his face almost touching hers, though their masks formed an impenetrable barrier.
Eventually the music stopped and the couples drew apart. Brad took a step backwards and the two of them looked at one another for a long moment, their breathing coming fast, chests rising and falling. Issy’s body was humming with desire, her heart racing. For a moment she didn’t speak, unwilling to break the spell. Then the orchestra played the first notes of the up-tempo Hungarian Dance No. 5 by Brahms, and Brad placed a hand on Issy’s lower back, steering her to the side.
When he spoke, his voice sounded thick. ‘And you’re trying to tell me you’ve never danced a waltz before, Issy Roberts?’
Issy thrilled to hear him say her name. ‘I think I had the best teacher,’ she grinned.
They danced and drank and talked and laughed, and the evening flew by in a whirlwind. It might have been Issy’s imagination, but she felt sure that Brad was standing closer than necessary, that they touched one another more often than needed, as he brushed a stray hair away from her face or reached for her hand as they moved from one incredible room to the next.
When the clock struck midnight, Brad turned to her, disappointment in his voice. ‘We need to leave. I have an early call for filming and—’
‘Of course,’ Issy nodded. ‘I know.’
‘I wish we didn’t have to go,’ Brad murmured, leaning close to her ear to make himself heard over the noise. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck, her skin prickling into delicious goosebumps. ‘I’ve had the best night.’
‘Me too,’ Issy swallowed. Without question, it had been the best night of her life. Now it was back to reality, though she was hoping they could put it off a little longer.
She followed Brad back through the palazzo, past the acrobats and the living statues, out of the main door and into the Venetian night. The sky was black like velvet, a gleaming moon suspended in the darkness, as they boarded their private boat to return to the White Palace. The skipper was up at the front, while Brad and Issy relaxed in the cosy, glass-covered cabin at the back, reclining on the soft cushions of the sofa-like seating. Despite the cabin being heated, Issy couldn’t seem to get warm, and she shivered.
‘Are you cold?’ Brad asked, and Issy nodded.
