“I wouldn’t say I’ve fantasized about it,” she responded, even as her mind flashed traitorously on sensual images of Remy. His eyes...his lips...the cut of his biceps...the hardness of his thighs...the thickness of his cock. Her body heated so fast she half expected the steamy water to start boiling.
Clearing her throat, she delicately dabbed at her flushed cheeks. “I wouldn’t say I fantasize about finding Mr. Right, but I will admit that one of my all-time favorite movies is An Officer and a Gentleman. That ending scene where Richard Gere goes to the factory, sweeps Debra Winger into his arms and carries her out while her coworkers cheer...”
A chorus of dreamy feminine sighs and squeals swept around the pool.
“Oh, my God,” Noelani breathed, her hand fluttering to her heart. “That is definitely a classic.”
Zandra grinned. “I was only four when the movie came out, but my mother used to watch it all the time. When I was old enough to appreciate it, we’d watch it together and cry every time at that sappy ending.”
The others laughed and nodded, reliving similar experiences.
“Sentimentality aside,” Zandra murmured, “I’ve never really been a happily-ever-after type of girl. So I don’t spend a lot of time looking for Mr. Right.”
“But if he comes along?” Noelani prodded.
Zandra smiled. “Then hopefully he won’t make it hard for me to recognize that he’s the one.”
“Amen to that.” Laurel grinned, holding up her glass. “In the meantime, here’s to a satisfying relationship with our battery-operated Mr. Right. Even when he takes a licking, he keeps on ticking!”
The women clinked glasses, then dissolved into hysterical laughter.
Chapter Ten
“Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look tonight?”
Zandra smiled indulgently at Colin as camera bulbs flashed wildly around them. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”
He chuckled. “Well, it’s true. You look amazing. I can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”
The dress he spoke of was a Herve Leger original—an electric blue strapless number layered with romantic ruffles that flowed sensuously over her hourglass curves. Diamonds glittered at her ears and wrist, and towering stiletto heels accentuated her long, shapely legs. She wore her hair down, parted on one side and glamorously swept over her shoulder. Her eyes were smoky and dramatic, and her lips were lusciously red.
Already considered a fashion trendsetter among her peers, she’d wanted to look her absolute best tonight. And she’d apparently succeeded, judging by Colin’s response and the admiring stares and whistles that greeted her as she stepped from her limo.
“Who are you wearing, Miss Kennedy?” reporters called out eagerly to her.
She only smiled enigmatically, setting off another flurry of flashbulbs.
For tonight’s fundraiser gala, the entrance to the art museum resembled an Academy Awards ceremony with a red carpet and photographers snapping pictures of arriving guests. Hundreds of well-heeled Chicagoans had shelled out two grand per ticket to enjoy a glitzy evening of fine dining and dancing, and to celebrate the highly anticipated opening of the newly renovated museum.
Colin’s hand rested possessively at Zandra’s waist as they climbed the grand staircase and entered the elegant lobby to join the milling crowd. Jeweled flesh wrapped in the expensive silk of designer gowns created a dazzling kaleidoscope of color. Waiters circulated among the guests offering canapés and glasses of champagne. Orchestra music from a string quartet wafted over the hall.
Zandra knew the moment Remy arrived.
Not because she saw him walk through the doors, but because her pulse quickened and her skin erupted in goose bumps.
She glanced around the crowded lobby.
And there he was.
Tall, dark and devastatingly handsome in a Brioni tux that fit his powerful body like a dream. Her mouth went dry as she stared at him, a Rembrandt who deserved his very own exhibit in any museum.