Self

Chapter 92

Yara snagged some sweets from the dessert table and settled in a quiet comer. She nibbled on a pastry and whipped out her iPad, diving into some

research papers.

Out of nowhere, a hand with strikingly defined knuckles appeared before her, followed by a deep, smooth voice that seemed to glide through the air. “Would this beautiful lady care to dance with me?”

The guy was decked out in a sleek black suit, his sapphire cufflinks catching. the light in a way that was impossible to ignore. His vintage Patek Philippe watch should have looked out of place, but it was the perfect complement to his mask for the evening–the Phantom of the Opera.

When Yara’s eyes met his, twinkled with amusement, she instantly knew who he was–Shane Shields! “Sorry, I can’t dance,” she said, lying.

Shane’s response was confident and knowing. “I’ve seen you dancing on your toes backstage at school.”

Busted, Yara was speechless for a moment. Then it hit her; he was talking about her senior year, at the graduation party, the solo dance she never got to perform. She had practiced for months, but an injury kept her from the stage. She had nearly forgotten, but somehow, he remembered.

Just then, the host said something that swept the spotlight across the crowd. The audience’s screams crescendoed.

Unprepared, the spotlight stopped on them, casting them in a circle of light. Shane’s lips quirked in a half–smile. “The rule of the ball is simple–if the spotlight catches you, you’ve got to dance. Would you really disappoint the crowd?”

As he spoke, he bowed gracefully, offering his hand in an elegant invitation. The crowd around them started egging her on. “Say yes! Say yes!”

“Dance! Dance!”

With a reluctant grit of her teeth, Yara had no choice but to go along with it, placing her hand in his. Shane whisked her away to the center of the dance floor.

They moved together, forward and back, spinning and embracing–a tall, dashing Phantom and his clever, charming little fox.

Their clothes swirled together, and their eyes locked. Shane’s smile was one of pure joy and triumph. Yara was not just dancing; she absolutely nailed it.

Thanks to her mom’s guidance when she was little, Yara was encouraged to be like any other girl–trying her hand at dancing, painting, and learning music.

Her mom raised her to be thoughtful and well–mannered, with a knack for just about everything. What no one saw coming was Yara’s insane talent for academics.

She rocked physics, chemistry, biology, and computer science, acing competitions left and right. She breezed through local and regional rounds, crushed it at nationals, and even scored invites to elite training camps.

Before anyone knew it, she was snagging trophies at the International Science Olympiads.

That year, Yara left the whole school–and the country–totally surprised.

Top universities tripped over themselves to offer her fast–track programs, but

Yara cared for none of that.

She was set on taking the entrance exams like everyone else and ended up as the city’s top science whiz, landing a spot at Bellemere University on her own.

merit.

“What’s on your mind?”

Shane’s voice pulled her back to the present.

“Just some old memories,” Yara replied.

“Stuff from college?” There was a shadow in his eyes–a hint of someone he would rather not think about then.

“Nope,” she said with a shake of her head.

He chuckled–a rich, warm sound–and with a quick step and a gentle push, he spun her around in a graceful twirl. The crowd around them erupted into cheers.

Yara reluctantly moved to his beat, but Shane was careful with her. His steps.

3/3

were measured, his moves understated, as if he made sure she was comfortable.

His hand at her waist was the epitome of class. It barely touched her, and there was no sign of him being pushy or overbearing.

“You’re looking stunning tonight, and that fox mask? It’s a pe. et fit,” he said, a playful edge to his voice.

Yara arched an eyebrow. “Fancy meeting you here on vacation.”