“I’m Blake,” he said, holding out a hand. “Blake Goldsmith.”
She reached hers out and he shook it, her skin warm against his. “Saffron Wells.”
“So what’s a girl like you doing here alone?”
“A bored girl?” she asked.
Blake raised an eyebrow. “No, a beautiful one.”
Her smile was sweet. “I promised a friend I’d come, but it’s not really my thing.” Saffron shrugged. “She’s an artist—one of her pieces is being auctioned tonight, so I couldn’t really say no. Besides, I don’t get out much.”
She might feel out of place, but she sure looked the part, as if it was exactly her scene. Blake glanced down when she looked away, eyes traveling over her blue satin dress, admiring her legs. It was short and strapless, and it took every inch of his willpower to stop staring. She was a knockout.
“So what do you do?” he asked.
“I’m having some time out right now,” she replied, her smile fading. “I’m just making coffee and...”
Blake cringed, wishing he’d asked something less invasive. He hadn’t wanted to put her on the spot or make her uncomfortable. “I love coffee. The barista at my local café is my favorite person in the world.”
“How about you?” she asked.
Now Blake was really regretting his line of questioning. He’d walked straight into that one. “Family business. I’m here tonight because no one else would take my place.”
“Poor you.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Blake hated talking about himself, and he liked the fact that this beautiful woman seemed to have no idea who he was. If he read another tabloid or blog article about his most-eligible-bachelor status, he’d lose it. And the lies surrounding his dad’s death were driving him to drink. So to chat with a woman like Saffron and not deal with any of that was refreshing to say the least.
A waiter passed and Blake held up a hand, beckoning him over. He smiled and placed his empty whiskey glass on the tray, taking a champagne and putting it into Saffron’s hand. He removed her other one, ignoring the look of protest on her face, and then he took another glass for himself.
“I was perfectly happy nursing that,” she said.
“Nothing worse than warm champagne,” Blake told her. “Want to get some fresh air?”
Saffron’s smile was small, but it was there. “Sure. Any excuse to get out of here.”
Blake grinned back and touched the small of her back as she turned, guiding her to the only exit he could see. There was a large balcony, which was probably full of smokers, but the room was stifling and he didn’t care.
“Excuse me.” A loud voice boomed through the speakers, making him turn. “May I have your attention please?”
Blake groaned. Just as he’d been about to escape... “Want to make a run for it?” he murmured, leaning down to whisper into Saffron’s ear. Her hair smelled like perfume, and it was soft against his cheek when she tipped her head back.
“I think we need to stay,” she whispered in reply, dark brown eyes locked on his for a second. “As much as I’d love to disappear.”
Blake shrugged. He would have happily disappeared and made a phone bid, but he wasn’t about to leave the most interesting woman he’d seen all evening. Her dark red hair stood out in a sea of bright blondes and raven-haired heads, the color subtle but stunning. And in a room full of slim woman, she seemed even smaller, but not in a skinny way. Blake had noticed the way she was standing when he’d first seen her, her posture perfect, limbs long yet muscled, her body even more sculptured up close than it had appeared from afar. He was intrigued.
“Thank you all for being here tonight to raise funds for underprivileged children right here in New York City,” the host said. Blake was tall, so even from the back of the room he could see what was going on, but he doubted Saffron would be able to see a thing. She was almost a head shorter than him. “Funds raised tonight will help to provide a winter assistance package for under-twelve-year-old children who don’t have the basics to help them through our harsh colder months. They will receive a warm coat, shoes, hat, pajamas and other things so many of us take for granted.”
Blake glanced down at Saffron. He watched her raise the slender glass to her mouth, taking a sip. He did the same, even though champagne wasn’t his usual drink of choice.
“This is my friend’s piece,” Saffron said, meeting his gaze for a moment. “She’s been working on this on and off all year, as part of her latest collection.”
Blake pulled the brochure from his inside jacket pocket and stared at the first painting on the crumpled paper. He wasn’t the type to get superexcited over art—all he cared about was making a sizable donation to a worthy cause—but he didn’t dislike it. The bright swirls of multicolored paint looked interesting enough, and a quick scan over the bio told him the emerging artist could be one to watch. If he got a worthwhile, long-term investment for his donation, he’d be happy.
“We’ll open the bidding at five hundred dollars,” the auctioneer said, taking over from the host.
Blake raised his hand just high enough for the spotter to see. The bidding quickly moved up to five thousand dollars, and Blake stayed with it, nodding each time now that he was being watched. He didn’t like drawing attention to himself, and from the look on Saffron’s face when the bidding stopped at just over ten thousand, even she had no idea it was him pushing the price up. He was buying on behalf of the company, so to him it was small change, but he was certain it would be exciting for an emerging artist trying to make a name for herself.
“She’ll be thrilled!” Saffron said, eyes bright as she connected with him. “All the other artists are so well-known, and...” She narrowed her gaze and he laughed.
“What?”
“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked.
Blake grinned. “I bought it,” he said simply. “Hopefully she’ll be superfamous one day, and I’ll have a good story to tell and a decent investment on the wall of my office.”
Saffron raised her glass and clinked it to his. “You’re crazy.”
“No, just in a generous mood.” Blake had done his good deed, and now he was ready to go. The auctioneer started all over again, and he placed a hand to the small of Saffron’s back. “Meet me outside? I just need to sign for the painting.” He’d intended on buying two pieces, but he decided to make a donation with his purchase instead.
He watched as she nodded. “Sure.”
Blake paused, hoping she wasn’t about to walk out on him, then decided it was a risk he was just going to have to take.
“You never did tell me which café you work at.”
She just smiled at him. “No, I don’t believe I did.”
When she didn’t elaborate, Blake walked backward a few steps, not taking his eyes off her before finally moving away. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, wanting his money, being so obvious with their intentions. Saffron was different, and he liked it. There was no desperation in her eyes, no look as though she wanted to dig her claws in and catch him, and it only made him want to get to know her all the more. If she genuinely didn’t know who he was right now, then he could be himself, and that was a role he hadn’t been able to play in a very long time.
* * *
Saffron watched Blake from across the room. She’d been dreading coming out, not looking forward to making small talk and having people ask about her injury, but so far no one had really bothered her. Until Blake. She had no idea who he