She swallowed a yawn. “I can’t wait.”
Worry crossed his face as he scanned the crowd. “We’re missing Grace DeBarr, the largest donor for both Project Wish and the opera. I wonder if something held her up.”
Opportunity rang in Alaina’s ears. This was her excuse to make herself scarce. “Maybe you should call her, just in case.”
“Of course.” He checked his watch. “Excuse me.”
“Absolutely.” She ushered him toward the coatroom. As he dug in his coat for his cell phone, she slipped back into the crowd.
Now where were those appetizers?
The front door opened, and an older woman in black velvet walked in with the hottest date Alaina had ever seen. Dressed in a sleek, black Armani suit, this man towered a head above most with wide shoulders, a square jaw, and perfectly rugged features that oozed masculinity. Long, luscious waves of dark brown hair were slicked back from his face, curling around his ears. Dark brown eyes simmered as he scanned the room. He settled on her and interest sparked in his gaze.
Too bad he was a gold digger preying on an older woman who should know better.
Alaina elbowed a man in his fifties picking an egg roll off a waiter’s tray. “Who’s that lovely couple?”
He popped the egg roll in his mouth and stepped toward her. His eyes rolled over the spots on her dress where the bare skin showed through the lace. “That’s Grace DeBarr, the richest woman in New York and one of the project’s biggest donors.”
She didn’t care if he gawked, as long as he provided information. “And who’s the arm candy?”
The man frowned as if shocked by her bluntness. Or was he jealous of her interest in the other man? “I’m not sure. Her son is scheduled for the auction block at eight. I suppose that’s him.”
“Her son?” Alaina searched the older woman’s face for even a fraction of that hotness but found no resemblance. What did it matter as long as he wasn’t her date?
Mr. Egg Roll provided his hand. “Alan Hardy, vice president of the board. And you are?”
She took his hand and dropped it after one shake. “Alaina Amaldi. I’m sorry. There’s something I have to be getting to…” She turned and cut through the crowd.
Mrs. DeBarr had found the conductor, and the two of them were chatting up a storm. Alaina turned around and hid behind a waiter. She couldn’t get caught up in that conversation right now. Not when there was a hot guy walking around without a date. Her evening just got a whole hell of a lot more interesting.
Mr. Hottie stood alone and aloof by the punch table.
Alaina had a sudden craving for punch. She leaned over and reached for the serving spoon, making sure her breasts were on full display as her diamond pendant dangled over the pink liquid.
She had to use her attributes to her advantage. Long ago, she gave up trying to be pencil thin and went down the curvy route. Those models could nibble on lettuce, but a lyric soprano needed a hearty meal to belt out those high A’s.
She dipped the large serving spoon in and trickled the liquid in her glass. She glanced over in his direction and -sure enough- caught him staring.
Alaina raised an eyebrow as she sipped her drink, leaving red lipstick on the rim. She wished she could leave some on his cleanly shaven cheek. “Enjoying your evening?”
He shrugged uncomfortably. For someone with a billion- dollar inheritance, he seemed like a country bumpkin out of his element. “I just got here.”
Alaina stepped forward, claiming the space beside him. “Yes, I saw you come in with your…mother?”
He stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced around the room as if spies were lurking everywhere. “Yes, my…mother.”
He wasn’t a conversation starter, that’s for certain. But, Alaina found his reluctance delightful. So many sleaze balls openly hit on her and this guy was playing hard to get.
She curled her toes in her heels. A challenge. She liked that.
“Alaina Amaldi.” She offered her hand.
He took his hand out of his pocket. “Lance DeBarr.”
His skin was warm and dry, his hands rough with calluses. Why would someone as rich as him have calluses?
“So, I hear you’re on the auction block tonight.”
He rolled his eyes. “Please, don’t remind me.”
“Your mother put you up to it?”
“You could say that.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “What are they auctioning you for?”
Was that a blush in his cheeks? This guy was so damn cute.
“A dinner date for two.”
“Oh.” Had she brought the checkbook? Perhaps she’d want to make a bid. All in the name of charity, of course. She still didn’t know which charity, but that didn’t matter. “So you’re afraid one of these older ladies will buy you off and you’ll have to spend your night talking about knitting and tea?”
He leaned in and smiled. “Maybe I like tea.”
Was he flirting? Alaina trailed her finger across the pocket of his suit. “I’m a black tea type of gal.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you like it strong?”
“Strong and dark.” Man this party was heating up. She leaned in closer. He smelled like woodsy aftershave with a hint of mint, ringing all of her pheromone bells. “How about you?”
He touched a lock of her hair. “Red and sweet.”
If that wasn’t an invitation, then she didn’t know what was. This night was turning out miraculously better than a naked bubble bath.
Something behind her stole his attention. Alaina whirled around to the horror freak show that was her soprano rival, Bianca Pool.
“Look what the conductor dragged in.” Bianca flung her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder. She wore a pink dress with an even lower neckline, revealing her assets to the point of a wardrobe malfunction. “Nice to see you again, Alaina.”
“What are you doing here?” Alaina almost dropped her glass. “I thought you were in Germany.”
“Altez offered me the Queen of the Night, and you know I can’t turn that role up.”
“You are very good at being wicked.” Alaina tightened her grip on her glass. They’d be singing together. Ironically, the Queen of the night was her character’s antagonist, and antagonize her, Bianca would.
Her rival stepped between her and Lance. “I came over to meet the famous Mr. DeBarr.” She touched his arm. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Lance shifted away from the two of them as if outnumbered. “What have you heard?”
“Only that you’re the most successful stoke broker in New York. I read the article about you in Forbes last year. Your ideas for optimizing trading options are ingenious. Funny, the picture in the magazine didn’t do you justice. You look even more gorgeous in real life.”
“Thanks.” He seemed more uncomfortable than impressed by her flattery. What a modest guy.
Alaina opened her mouth to compliment him on his modesty when Bianca angled her body in front of her and put her hand on his chest. “I want you to know I’m going to do everything it takes to be your highest bidder.”
Alaina gagged silently.
“You