Lily quickly glanced away, but when she looked back, she found him still staring at her. Then he looked at his watch and pretended to yawn and Lily couldn’t help but smile. She took another sip of her champagne and observed the man from over the rim of the glass.
Unlike Jim Franklin, this guy was downright gorgeous. He had dark hair, just long enough to brush his collar but perfectly trimmed. Dark brows accented eyes of an indeterminate shade, but Lily knew they were probably some uncommon and very arresting color. Her gaze skimmed over his body, finding him taller than average and beautifully built, his tailored tux accenting wide shoulders and a narrow waist.
When she returned to his face, his smile was a bit wider. He nodded at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. And then he pushed away from the column and started toward her. Lily held her breath, her eyes still fixed on his, her heart beating a little faster.
“Sweetheart,” he said, stopping next to the table. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
He reached out and Lily hesitantly placed her hand in his. But to her surprise, he drew it up and placed a kiss near her wrist. She swallowed hard. “Darling,” she said. “You’re late.”
“Not too late, I hope. You will forgive me, won’t you?”
She slowly stood. “Of course.” Lily glanced over at Jim Franklin as she grabbed her shoes from the floor. “Thanks for the investment advice, Jim. Have fun at the party.”
The stranger tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and started toward the nearest exit. When they reached the hall, he stopped. “You’re safe now.”
“I wasn’t really in any danger,” Lily said. “Unless boredom is fatal.”
“With a guy like that, you never know. I wasn’t willing to watch you throw yourself over the railing just to get away from him.”
“Thanks for saving me,” Lily said.
“No problem. So, are you here alone? Or did your date desert you?” He paused. “Or maybe that was your date?”
Lily shook her head. “I’m here alone. A professional obligation.”
“And when is that obligation finished?” he asked.
“Right now.” Lily smiled hesitantly, realizing that she might have given him the wrong idea. Suddenly, she wasn’t interested in going back to the hotel. She’d just met an attractive, sexy, and witty man—a rare occurrence in her life. “What about you? I suppose you have a reason for being here—besides rescuing me from the scintillating Mr. Franklin.”
He chuckled. “Actually, I crashed the party. The band sounded good so I thought I’d check it out. But the crowd was a little bit too stuffy for me…until I saw you.” He let his gaze rake over her body and Lily shivered. “Has anyone told you that you look incredible in that dress?”
“You flatter me,” she teased, keeping the banter light. “And I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh, let’s not play that game. And let’s not talk about what we do for a living. Or where we come from. And the weather is off-limits, too.”
“All right,” Lily said, intrigued by the game. “We can talk about art and literature and music. But I have to call you something.”
“Darling was kind of nice,” he said with a devilish grin.
“I guess you can call me sweetheart, then,” Lily countered. Though their conversation had a provocative tone, she couldn’t help but giggle. From the amused expression on his handsome face, he wasn’t taking this any more seriously than she was.
“Sweetie for short,” he said. “Come on, sweetie, they’re playing our song. I think we should dance, don’t you?” He took the shoes from her hand, flipped them over his shoulder and sauntered toward the stairs.
Lily watched him for a long moment, her gaze fixed on his wide shoulders. Why not enjoy this handsome stranger for a night and leave it at that? She’d hoped to find a man in Boston and this stranger certainly fit the bill. And if she admitted up front that there was no possibility for a real relationship, then she couldn’t get hurt again.
He stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you coming, darling?”
Lily laughed softly before she picked up her skirts and hurried after him. “Have you forgotten my name already? I’m sweetheart. You’re darling.”
THE BAND HAD JUST BEGUN their rendition of “Isn’t It Romantic” when Brian drew the beautiful stranger in the gold gown out onto the dance floor. He twirled her beneath his arm and then pulled her against his body, moving along with the music. Her gown dipped low on her back and he spread his palm over her warm skin, surprised at how soft it felt.
The evening had quickly turned from business to pleasure. When he’d arrived, he’d easily talked his way inside without an invitation, but the opportunity to confront Richard Patterson hadn’t materialized. According to one of the guests, Patterson had left a few minutes before due to some business emergency. Brian had decided to check out the crowd from the balcony in hopes that he might spot some of Patterson’s cronies. But once he’d set eyes on the girl in the gold dress, he’d pretty much forgotten about everything else.
“You’re a very good dancer,” she said.
“And you are, too,” he returned.
He found their little game endlessly intriguing. But he wasn’t sure where the game ended and reality began. She acted as if she didn’t recognize him and with his face on billboards and busboards all over town, that was a bit difficult to believe. Maybe she didn’t watch the news. Or maybe she didn’t live in Boston.
He was willing to play along, at least for the time being. Though he’d seduced his fair share of women before, he’d always taken a straightforward approach to the matter. But this was different. They’d constructed a silly set of rules. Were the rules there to protect them both from their desires—or to liberate them from their inhibitions?
“I took dance lessons from age seven to age twelve,” Lily said. “My mother insisted. She said I’d need it someday and I didn’t believe her. I guess I was wrong.” She smoothed her hand over his shoulder. “And how about you?”
“I just have natural grace and athletic ability. Plus, you’re making me look a whole lot better than I really am.”
Brian looked down at her and couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was beautiful, with lively green eyes and a riot of auburn curls cascading from the crown of her head. Little tendrils had escaped the mass of curls and caressed her cheeks and forehead and Brian fought the urge to brush them away.
But then he realized there was no need to just contemplate touching her. Nothing in her manner made him believe his touch would be unwelcome. He reached up and smoothed his fingers along her cheekbone, tucking the strands behind her ear. For a moment, her breath stilled and their gazes locked. And then he grabbed her around the waist. “Dip,” he said, leaning her back.
They continued to dance, whirling around the floor as if they were Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. In truth, Brian was surprised at how easy it was to have her in his arms. She seemed to anticipate his every move. With her, he did look like the best dancer on the floor. And in his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the room.
“So if we don’t talk about our jobs, or the weather or where we’re from, what should we talk about?” she asked.
“Whatever you want,” Brian said. “I’ll give you five questions and you give me five. Anything. No restrictions. And we have to answer honestly. That should