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low murmur of cultured voices When she and her mother had arrived that afternoon, she’d seen the notice in the hotel’s lobby about the private party, a charity function hosted by so event for all of Italy’s richest and finest Her iven Halina a sympathetic smile

‘One day, such parties will be for you,’ she’d said, steering Halina towards the lift ‘When you are wed But as for tonight, a quiet night in while ait for your father’s further instructions’

Halina had never been to a proper party Since she’d turned eighteen she’d attended a few dire state functions, endless banquets with fussy old dignitaries, but never a party She’d never worn a cocktail dress, flirted or drunk chaht—to be nor fun, enjoying life

Of course, there were a few obstacles to be overco her room She’d pleaded a headache and hidden in her rooetaway

The second obstacle was clothes She didn’t have anything appropriate to wear Fortunately the hotel had an upscale boutique, and after hurrying across the lobby Halina slipped into the elegant shop and picked the first suitable dress she saw—a knee-length sheath in black satin, sih heels as well, and charged it all to her hotel room She’d think about the repercussions later Hopefully her mother would never look at the bill

Holding the elegant bag with its eo and thick cord handles, Halina snuck into the bathrooed in a stall, her hands shaking as she stuffed her plain shift dress into the bag fro this? Was she crazy?

She’d always enjoyed pranks and dares, and had forever got into good-natured trouble at school But thisthis was so else entirely If her mother discovered herif her father found out Halina trembled to think of their disappointenial, but they’d never had to deal with such direct defiance from her or her sisters Still, she had to try She’d just have to live with the potential consequences, whatever they were

The door to the bathroom opened and Halina held her breath, one hand on the latch of her stall, fingers near to tre was just about to begin

She heard the click of heels and from beneath the stall she saw the stiletto-shod feet of tomen as they stood in front of the bank of sinks

‘Did you see him?’ one of the women asked in Italian, in which Halina was fluent, as the other unzipped her h the crack in the stall’s door and saw the woant, their lips pursed and eyes narrowed as they gazed at their glossy reflections