“He can make you forget your own name in bed.”

Fate snapped out of her reverie and blinked at her acquaintance, Cynthia Hamilton. “Excuse me?”

“That man you were just staring at.” Cynthia took a sip of her white wine and glanced up to the balcony that overlooked the crowded room of charity ball-goers. A tall, broad-shouldered man with glossy black hair stood by the balustrade, watching the milling crowd below him.

Fate had noticed him earlier, since he wasn’t a man easily missed. That black hair fell to the middle of his back, framing a ferociously masculine face with full, sensual lips and dark blue eyes. The shadow of a beard graced his strong, square jaw. The length of his hair didn’t make him seem any less male. She doubted anything could weaken the powerful masculine energy the man emanated even from across a crowded room.

His tall, well-built body was clothed in an expensive-looking tux. The women did a double take when they noticed him. Interested sexual heat emanated from their designer gown-clad, workout-sculpted bodies.

Aside from his gorgeousness, she had noticed him earlier because he seemed familiar to her for some reason, and also simply because he was a man a woman did not glance past. But if she’d been staring at him now, she hadn’t been aware of it. Too lost to other thoughts.

“That’s Gabriel Letourneau,” said Cynthia.