He reached for the door handle.
“Wait!” She pressed her hand even firmer against her stomach. “I’m allergic to shellfish. And I’m an only child. My roommate’s name is Becca. And my parents—”
“—Are farmers in South Dakota. You have a black cat back home, who you rescued from an alley, and he hides when people come over so I’ll probably never see him. His name is Lucifer. You also love the Yankees and the Giants, hate the Mets and the Jets, and you like long walks in a light, misting, rain.” He cupped her cheek tenderly, smiling down at her reassuringly. “We’ve got this, darling.”
She played with her seat belt, her fingers skittering over it nonstop. “You actually paid attention to all of that?”
“Of course I did. I want to learn everything about you, because I’m greedy when it comes to you. I won’t pretend otherwise.” He smoothed his thumb over her lower lip. “If you’re talking? I’m listening. We’ve got this. There’s nothing to worry about.”
She straightened and nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“Sir?” The door opened, and his driver glanced down. “Madam?”
“Thank you, Jeff.” He got out of the car and held his hand out. “Darling?”
She slid her hand into his. Her fingers didn’t tremble.
There was a bit of a crowd checking their coats and greeting each other, but he didn’t see his mother, so Maggie would be spared her company, at least for a little while. “She’s not here yet.”
“Good. I could use a drink or ten before taking her on.” She pressed against his arm, her soft curves taunting him. “Think she upped her trash talk game yet? Or will she call me a ‘lady of the night’ again?”
He choked on a laugh, but managed to hold it back successfully. “I doubt she’s ever actually uttered the word ‘whore,’ so I’d expect her trash talk to remain lame.”
“Figures,” Maggie muttered, checking out the hall. She held his arm tighter, hopping up and down excitedly. “Holy crap, is that a Kennedy over there? He’s got the eyes and the hair.”
He helped her out of her jacket. “Hmm? Where?”
“Over there.” She shrugged free. “The short guy in black, next to the tall woman in black.”
He rolled his eyes and laughed fully this time. “You realize that you just described everyone in the room, right?”
She shot him a frown over her shoulder. “That can’t be true. Look—” She broke off, glanced around the room, and then down at her own gown, which was delightfully red. “Wait. Was I supposed to wear black? If so, I obviously missed the memo.”
The red dress wasn’t why she stood out in the crowd. She stood out because she was kind, gorgeous, and her laugh could light up an underground prison cell. “That’s because there wasn’t one. They’re all dull, while you’re full of life.”
“But still.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “Should I wear black next time?”
“Don’t change a thing.” He tipped her chin up. “I like you just the way you are.”
A small smile slid into place. “You do?”
“I do.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, brushing his mouth across hers in a short, sweet kiss. They were putting on a show for other people now, so he finally had an excuse to touch her. He damn well planned to enjoy it while it lasted. The taste of her remained after he pulled away, and it teased him, made him crave more instantly.
He had a feeling if he let himself, he could easily get addicted to her intoxicating taste. And not just that, but the way she made him laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed at one of these boring affairs, yet he’d already done so twice tonight…
And they weren’t even in the door yet.
“People were watching, so I figured it was a good time for a kiss,” he whispered in her ear. Her fingers flexed on him, and she shivered. “For show only, of course.”
“Y-Yes. Good thinking. We’ll have to do that a lot tonight.” She backed up a step. “I, uh, I see the bar, so I’m gonna get us some drinks while you check our coats. You want an old-fashioned?”
He cocked a brow. “Dare I ask how you found out I like those, darling?”
“Research,” she said, twisting her purse. “Always research.”
Spinning on her heel, she headed for the bar, looking every inch a regal princess amongst her peers. He watched her go, clasping the coats so tight his hands ached.
“Why, if it isn’t Benjamin Gale the third,” someone exclaimed from behind him. “It’s been so long.”
He stiffened. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was his latest ex—the one his mother had wanted him to marry. He’d refused because she reminded him of his mother. And he sure as hell didn’t want to marry his mother. He’d rather marry Ivan the Terrible.