She donned a simple midnight blue gown that was fitted tightly at the bodice and then flared out to sweep the floor. She added her grandmother’s pearl necklace and examined herself in the mirror. She was probably showing off too much cleavage, especially for this crowd, but overall, she looked more than respectable. The perkier boobs were a nice surprise. She turned to the left and then the right, looking at her profile—the extra time at the gym was paying off. She left for the party, hoping the evening would go by quickly.
*
Harmon Castle glowed as people arrived for the benefit. Pulling her car forward, Kate gave the keys to the parking attendant and happily greeted a few acquaintances as she walked up the grand steps. Friday night, a beautiful setting, a worthy cause, pleasant company—it was good to get out, away from her manuscript for a while. The entire week, when she wasn’t at school, she was in her office, writing, or attempting to write. Laura was barely home, so Kate would hole herself up for hours, late into the night, when she could stay awake. She had to force herself to do the most basic or necessary things like eat or exercise. No, this was definitely the right thing to do; if she didn’t get out, she’d become some weird old hermit.
There were quite a few familiar faces and she started to relax, plucking a glass of champagne from a tray as a waiter dashed by. Circling slowly, Kate took in the scene. The grand ballroom was beautiful. Decked in garlands of pine, gold, and silver, a massive Christmas tree adorned with Steuben and Swarovski ornaments towered over one end of the room. People who passed by glittered almost as much as the decorations. It was a large turnout, and she had no doubt the event would raise a fortune for the foundation. Then she choked on her Dom Perignon.
David was here.
There were four of them—tall, muscular men, all in formalwear. Two had blondes on their arms, another was escorting a lovely brunette, but David was alone.
She bolted to the other side of the room so she could strangle the foundation’s director. “You didn’t tell me the Flyers had taken an interest in the Foundation.” She seethed. She’d asked about the guest list three times and hadn’t received a straight answer.
“Why would it matter? Oh! Jay Hemmings is here. And Cameron Roth. Look at all of them, aren’t they just delicious?”
Glancing in David’s direction, she saw he was coming toward them. He was gorgeous and with each step he took, her heart slammed harder against her ribs.
“Oh God,” she whispered, gulping down the remaining champagne in her glass. “Not again.”
*
David ran through what he wanted to say in his head. The picture was old. I’m not engaged. He thought for a second, regrouping. Chelsea means nothing to me…
David cursed himself. The truth was, as much as Chelsea was responsible for planting the story about the non-existent engagement, David was responsible for the attitude that surrounded him. People expected him to be with women like Chelsea—to be more concerned with style than substance. Kate had never been anything but honest with him, and it was possible he might not have a chance to save what they started.
He’d messed up too many times, but now, seeing her, David knew he had to try. As he walked toward her, he enjoyed the view. She stood defensively with her arms folded and her head cocked arrogantly to the side. He watched her eyes for any emotion, and then saw something faint. She looked… nervous. That was an interesting development. He made her nervous. Thank God. There might be hope.
*
Diana pushed right past Kate with a hand extended in greeting. “Hello, I’m Diana Micelli, director of the foundation. It’s so nice to meet you.”
He grinned and accepted her hand politely. “David Burke. Nice to meet you, too.”
“We’re so pleased the team has taken an interest in the work we’re doing. Thank you for the very generous donation. Do you know—” Diana gestured toward Kate and started the introduction, but he cut her off.
“This is a nice surprise, Kate. I didn’t get to say good-bye the last time I saw you.” He wanted to add the word “naked” to the end, but that could end with him succumbing to a slow and painful death.
“David.” Her posture went rigid. Yeah, she was plenty nervous. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled, looking around the room. He had to get her alone. He had no chance at all of breaking her down when she could run off into a sea of people. “This is a beautiful place,” he said, ignoring her original question. “Have you been here before?”
“Yes,” she said, “I have.”
Handing him the perfect opening, David offered her his arm. “You know I love history. Would you give me a tour?”
He’d trapped her. Running in the opposite direction was out of the question—her manners wouldn’t allow it. She had no choice but to go with him, and she was not happy.
“Of course,” she said. Her words were clipped and formal, as she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. “My pleasure.”
*
They left the ballroom and ascended the main staircase to see the entry hall and the chandelier from above. Having spent almost eighteen years in the area, there had been many opportunities for her to make visits to the grand estate, so she gave him a mini-history lesson about Main Line Philadelphia as they walked.
“You look beautiful,” he said. She had to give him credit; it was the safest opening, if not original.
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to let me explain?” he asked quietly.
She was putting on her most professional face, her most formal tone. “Nothing to explain.”
He laughed. “Oh, come on.”
“I have no reason to be angry with you. Just myself. Fool me once, and all that.” She wondered if he could tell how she felt about him. Her heart was firing rapidly just being near him. They hadn’t known each other long, yet she had a sense he could almost read her mind.
“I’m not engaged. They used an old photo and bad information.”
She stopped and looked away, then raised her face toward his and said what she felt. She had nothing to lose. “That doesn’t change the fact you turned me into a conquest. You had no right making me one of the girls in your entourage.”
He gave her a narrow, tentative glance and Kate had no clue what he would do next.
“I never meant for you to feel that way, and you know it.”
“Whatever.” Kate barely looked at him. Her body was tense, so tense. Could he read her feeling? Could he tell?
David shook his head slightly and cast another glance in her direction before turning his body and inching closer.
She prayed he wouldn’t touch her because when he did, she’d lose all control.
“Kate.” His finger slipped under her chin and he tilted her face toward his.
She blinked and focused on his eyes, which gave her a chance to see what might be going on in his head. There was something sincere in the dark depths and she wondered if her eyes betrayed her in the same way her heart did.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was soft, contrite.
“Alright,” she whispered, looking away again.
His cologne mingled with the scent of pine and Christmas candles and made her feel a little lightheaded.
“Alright?” He turned her gently and took her face in his hands this time, pressing his lips to her temple. “You’ll forget about it?”
Everything flooded to the surface. The betrayal, the distrust, the feelings of inadequacy, the hurt—she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t run from it. “Forgetting about it would be a good idea.”
She was in her own personal nightmare. Kate was being as polite as possible, but she wasn’t giving him an inch. She couldn’t—he affected her so completely, she couldn’t risk the loss of control. “I don’t know what else to say.”