“What promise?”
“To save me a dance.”
Okay, so he was a lot nicer than she first thought. Julie couldn’t quite look him in the eye as she held the collar of her dress so he could pin on the flower. It smelled lovely, sweet and soft.
It was perfect and thoughtful. She never should have judged this man before she met him.
He fumbled with the pin. So, he wasn’t experienced at corsage pinning. Neither was she. She held her breath, aware of their closeness.
“This is trickier than it looks,” he confessed with a lopsided grin. “There. I think that should do it.”
She glanced down. “I like my peace offering. Does this mean I should give you something? Isn’t that expected in peace time negotiations?”
“I’m holding out for that dance you promised me.”
“What am I going to do with you? A man who brings gifts and likes to dance?” She slipped her arm around his, liking the friendly, solid feel of him. “I suppose I could agree to your terms, but it’s going to cost you more than a flower.”
“Fine. I can afford it.” He opened one of the double doors. “Name your price.”
“If you want to dance with me, then you also have to dance with my two good friends.”
“Friends. I should have known.” He didn’t seem offended as he guided her through the room. “Playing matchmaker, are you?”
“Against my better judgment,” she admitted, because it made him laugh again. “They begged and pleaded.”
“I don’t mind at all,” he agreed pleasantly, scanning the crowded room. “You did a great job, Julie. I’m sure my grandmother is pleased.”
That meant a lot, coming from the only billionaire in the room. From the man who’d given her a corsage.
“There’s Nanna.” He nodded in the direction of the dance floor. “It’s good to see my grandmother happy.”
There was no doubt he meant it, and that he loved his grandmother. Julie knew just how that felt. Her heart ached at the sweet sight of her granddad and his grandmother swaying to the last chorus, gazing into each other’s eyes as if they’d found true love.
True love. She knew from firsthand experience exactly how rare that precious gift was. She prayed her grandfather would know nothing but joy for the rest of his days. “They’re a perfect couple. They light up from inside when they’re together.”
“They make you want to believe.” He held out his hand, palm up, as the piano belted out the first strains of “Strangers in Paradise.” “Remember our deal?”
“How could I forget?” She placed her fingers on his palm, featherlight.
A sharp sensation wedged hard beneath his sternum and stayed there. He ignored it, closed his fingers over Julie’s and led her through the tables to the area in front of the band. It was hard to miss all the people turning in their seats to watch him pass. He tried not to think about it or the sharpness in his chest.
Just stress—that’s what it was. He’d take a deep breath and… Pain pierced his sternum, as hot as fire and razor sharp. He missed a step, and Julie’s grip on his arm tightened.
“Noah, are you all right?”
He was still standing, but he felt like a fool, so he kept dancing. “Yep. Just overwhelmed by my dance partner’s beauty.”
“Good try, but you can’t fool me.” Her fingers remained a firm presence on his arm. She squinted up at him, narrowing her pretty eyes, as if she wasn’t about to be tricked by the likes of him. “You need to sit down before you fall down. You’re breathing funny. Are you having any chest pain?”
“It’s my weak ankle, that’s all.” He didn’t want her to know the truth. “It’s an old polo match injury.”
“The fib would have gone over better if you’d used a baseball game instead of polo. You keep forgetting. You’re in Montana now.”
He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “It’s hard to forget where I am with so many Stetsons around.”
“Not your typical Lower Manhattan attire, huh? Watch out. If you stay here too long, you’ll be wearing a hat and boots and learning to ride.”
“I’m heading back to New York first thing tomorrow morning.”
“You work on Saturdays?”
“Sure. Got a busy week to look forward to.” He was already starting to feel better. Maybe the pain was going to go away now.
She allowed him to pull her close—not too close—and whirl her to the Frank Sinatra tune. She’d almost made him forget the pain. Almost. It returned in a sharp lash through his chest, doubled in intensity.
Breathe deep. It will go away. At least, he was praying it would. “Really, I’m fine.”
Julie froze in his arms. “That’s it. Something is wrong. You look practically gray. You’re sitting down. Now.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. Probably just the clean air out here. I’m not used to such purity.” I refuse to be sick. I’m not sick. Please don’t let me be sick, Lord. Not at Nanna’s party.
“You and your excuses. Unfortunately for you, I’m a teacher. I’m immune to them.” Julie frowned and pressed her hand to his forehead. Her skin was cool and soothing. “I also have lots of practice with sick kids, so I can recognize the signs.”
“I’m no kindergartner.” Okay, now he was getting annoyed. “I don’t get sick.”
“Everyone gets sick now and then.” With the way she bit her lip, she looked as if she was trying not to laugh. “Fine, have it your way. Come with me. I’m feeling sick.”
Well, if she was feeling ill, he’d go along with her. “Maybe you need some fresh air, too.”
“How did you know?” She was teasing him now, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. Miss Julie Renton seemed far too sure of herself as she hauled him out the back door and into a dark room.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised like the angel she was, disappearing through the door, leaving him alone.
The tightness in his chest was worse. Much worse. He just had to breathe deep. Relax. This was stress, that was all. It had to be. He was too young to have a heart attack, right?
Blade-sharp pain sliced from back to front, leaving him panting. He tugged loose his tie and popped the top buttons on his shirt. This is only stress. Just a lot of stress. So that meant he could will the pain away….
The door swung open, and warm air spilled across him where he sat on the concrete floor, clutching his chest. He saw Julie’s eyes widen and the shock on her face, then the door slammed shut, leaving them alone in the empty room.
She sank to the step next to him and pressed a plastic cup in his hands. “You’re not looking so good.”
“Then I’m looking better than I feel.” The punch was sweet and cold. It tasted great, but didn’t do a thing for the pain in his chest. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt to do anything. He set the cup on the step behind him.
“I’m going to go fetch Dr. Corey.” Julie’s touch on his shoulder felt like a rare comfort. One he wouldn’t mind hanging on to.
“No doctor.” He cut off a groan of pain. Sweat broke out on his face. “This isn’t anything.”
“Sure, you mean, the way a heart attack isn’t anything?” She slipped