Not helping. The crowded room seemed to close in on her as she turned ever so slowly and followed Jo’s gaze. Suddenly it was terribly, impossibly hard to breathe. Alex was standing talking to the Met’s PR person, not fifty feet away, the black Armani tux he wore drool-inducing on his tall, powerful frame.
She whipped her head around before he could see her, pressed clammy hands against her thighs. What was she supposed to do now? Walk up to him, say hi and unload her bombshell? She’d spent so much time trying to discredit Messer she didn’t have a plan. And suddenly that seemed very stupid indeed.
“Drink,” Jo said, shoving the martini at her. “A bit of liquid courage is all you need.”
* * *
Alex smiled at whatever the PR woman for the Met was saying, hearing none of it. He detested the inane small talk these occasions required. Yes, she was glad Sophoros had sponsored the evening. Yes, he understood his checkbook was important to the organization’s continued success. He got it. Enough.
He was tired. His temper was short. Pretty much bottom of the barrel since his lawyers had told him Frank Messer was going to be a big, huge pain in his behind. He needed to figure a way out of this mess with the least damage to Sophoros and he wasn’t doing that here making small talk.
The PR person finally took the hint and moved on to schmooze another of the sponsors. Alex shot a glance at Mark. “Ready to get out of here?”
His partner nodded. “Except you might want to check out the blonde at the bar near the fountain. She’s been staring at you for a few minutes now and she’s a looker.”
Normally all about the blondes, Alex found himself bored by the thought. He’d been annoyingly, persistently consumed by thoughts of a particular voluptuous brunette all week. And even though he’d told himself Izzie was all wrong for him, that he didn’t need a woman distracting him when being on his game was all that mattered, he couldn’t get her out of his head.
Hell. He glanced in the direction Mark was looking. His partner was right. The blonde was stunning. The kind of leggy, sophisticated beauty he’d normally be all over. And she was staring at him. But it was the brunette beside her who caught his eye. Her back to him, she had the same long, thick chestnut hair and curvaceous body Izzie had. And the dress she had on was fantastic, a body-hugging number that left her back completely bare...
“Something else, isn’t she?” Mark muttered.
“So is the woman beside her.” His gaze sharpened on the brunette. Something in the way she held herself, in the tilt of her head, reminded him of Izzie. And now he was losing his mind, because in a city of eight million, the chances of Izzie being here were slim to none.
He was just about to turn away when the brunette twisted slightly in her seat to look at them. He stiffened, his gaze locking onto her face. It was Izzie. Minus the dark-rimmed glasses he’d removed before taking her to bed. He took in how the gown molded her delectable figure, her wide-eyed stare as she sat frozen on the stool. And wondered how fate had put her in his path twice in one week.
His gaze narrowed as she slid off the stool and walked quickly toward the opposite end of the ballroom. She was running away from him? He stared incredulously as she hightailed it through the crowd as fast as those ridiculously high shoes she was wearing allowed.
“I’ll be right back,” he muttered to Mark, clenching his teeth. Women didn’t walk away from him. And certainly not this one.
* * *
Izzie knew the minute Alex started to follow her. It was like a centrifugal force that pulled on her steps, threatened to drag her back toward him, but she kept going, determined to face him when she had her wits about her. And that was not now.
She twisted her way through the crowd, as fast as she could go in her prize possession four-inch designer heels. Trained her gaze on the ladies’ room doors.
“Izzie.” It was a command, not an address. She kept walking. She was almost there, just a few more steps and—
“Izzie.” Alex clamped a hand down on her shoulder and swung her around. “What are you doing?”
She swallowed hard, her high heels bringing her face-to-face with his furious glare. “I—I needed to use the ladies’ room.”
“At the exact moment you saw me?” The scathing disbelief in his voice made her cringe. “Try again.”
Heat filled her cheeks. She shifted her weight to the other foot, her gaze dropping away from his. “Believe what you like. I need to pee.”
The look on his face told her he didn’t believe her for a second. But he dropped his hand and took a step back. “Fine. I’ll be here.” He propped himself up against the wall near the entrance to the ladies’ room, arms crossed over his chest. Izzie lowered her gaze and stalked past him.
She took an extraordinarily long time while she collected herself. Debated how to approach what she had to do. When she came out, he was standing in exactly the same place, arms crossed over his chest, looking indolently, indecently gorgeous. She made an attempt at casual, but a lacing of bitterness edged her voice. “How was your flight?”
His dark brows drew together. “I had to leave, Izzie. I told you I had an emergency.”
Frank Messer. She reminded herself what this night was all about. Business. Not acting like a girl. She waved a hand at him. “It’s fine. I’m over it.”
“Then why walk away like that?”
She shook her head. “I told you I—”
“Needed to use the washroom.” He gave her a grim look. “Okay, let’s try this another way.” Taking her arm, he walked her toward the exit. Her pulse accelerated at the thought of being alone with him again and that was just silly, because what she should be focusing on was convincing him to do this interview.
“That was your friend Jo, I assume.” He stood back while she preceded him through the French doors to the outdoor terrace, deserted except for a couple of men smoking. “She looks like a man slayer.”
“The poor bartender was drooling all over her.”
“She’s attractive.”
Izzie blinked at the understatement. “You don’t think she’s gorgeous?”
“I think you’re gorgeous.” He stopped at the far end of the terrace that overlooked the gardens and leaned back against the wall that separated the two, his gaze moving over her in a leisurely inspection that lingered on every curve.
“Alex,” she muttered. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Why should I when you look so sensational in that dress?” A mocking glint entered his eyes. “When I saw you I thought it couldn’t be you—it’s such a crazy coincidence that we’d both be here.”
Her cheeks heated to boiling. Tell him now, Izzie.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Then I convinced myself I must have conjured you up. I’ve been thinking about you, Iz. A lot...”
The world came to a grinding halt. “You have?”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “I was wondering how you made out in the interview.”
Oh. Her heart dropped. Of course he hadn’t really been thinking about her.
“Izzie.” His low, husky laughter wrapped itself around her. “I’m teasing you.”
He stepped in close, picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing an openmouthed kiss to her palm. “What are you doing?” she asked in a strangled tone.
“Checking to see if you taste as good as I remember.”