Blue-Eyed Devil Page 47


"One of my partners made a donation on behalf of our company. So I've gotten roped into it."

I got the impression that Hardy had been about to ask me to go with him. Like on a date. I felt hot and suffocated at the thought. I was not ready for a date with anyone, least of all him. "Maybe we'll see each other there." I tried to sound breezy. "But if we don't happen to cross paths . . . have a great night."

"You too."

"Okay. See you later." I turned and fumbled at the doorknob. He reached around me and grasped it. "Let me get that for you."

I waited with panicked impatience, ready to flee. But Hardy paused before opening the door.

"Haven." He waited until I turned toward him, the front of my body aligned with his, not quite touching. The awareness between us was so intense that I could almost feel the pressure of him against my skin, the hardness and weight of him. I couldn't keep from wondering what sex would be like with him, if he would crush and hurt, if he would be gentle.

And then I wondered if he had ever hit a woman.

Somehow I couldn't imagine it, those powerful hands inflicting damage on someone more vulnerable than himself, rupturing vessels, leaving bruises. But Nick had taught me that unimaginable things were possible.

When I did gather the courage to try again, it would not be with some excessively masculine creature. But maybe that was part of the attraction, knowing deep down that real feelings, real attachment, could never happen with Hardy.

I looked up into his eyes, mesmerized by the blueness. Even knowing how wrong it was, I wanted to melt into him, just flatten myself against that big, sturdy form and . . . let go. Breathe. Trust.

"Stay," he said softly, "and share the wine with me."

"You . . . you need to shower."

A slow grin crossed his mouth. "You can share the shower too."

"Right," I said darkly, while my mind filled with visions of soapy male skin and water-slicked muscles. "As if."

Hardy opened the door and let me escape. "Would have been fun," he called after me as I went down the hall.

And I had to hide a smile, not daring to look back.

After that I felt restless all night, my sleep fractured by dreams, and in the morning I woke up aching and moody. I realized that every encounter I had with Hardy Cates was beginning to feel like foreplay.

"Starlight experience" was the theme of the night, featuring singers and musicians all paying homage to the Gershwin brothers. At least five hundred people milled through the building while breezy, jazzy music filled the air. Gershwin was a perfect choice for the evening, giving it a feeling of spontaneous, thrown-together pleasures.

The Harrisburg actually consisted of two stages, the upstairs one about four stories high, a large traditional proscenium theater for spectacle productions. But the lower theater was the one I found more interesting. It was a modular stage with a segmented floor, each section mounted on its own independent pneumatic pistons. That way the floor could be reconfigured into any shape a production required. The walls were segmented too, allowing for a multitude of design possibilities.

Although I was immune to Todd in any romantic sense, I enjoyed the sight of him in a tux. Judging from the looks he got, most other people did too. He was sleek and feline, the tux hanging with elegant looseness on his lean body.

Todd had taken me shopping and picked out my dress, a simple long black sheath with a cowl neckline and black velvet straps. The front was relatively demure, but the back plunged so deeply that I couldn't wear anything underneath.

"That's the good thing about not having big br**sts," Todd had told me. "You don't need a bra to look perky."

"I'm not worried about the front," I'd said. "Or looking perky. What worries me is that I'm feeling breezes in places where the sun doesn't usually shine."

But Todd had inspected my rear view and assured me that I wasn't revealing any posterior cle**age. Nothing would show, he said, as long as no one stood above me and looked straight down my back.

As I had expected, most of my family was there, including Dad, Liberty, and all three of my brothers. Liberty looked ravishing in a red silk gown, the shimmering fabric draped and twisted all around her voluptuous body.

"I can't stop looking at your wife," Todd told Gage. "It's like staring into a fire."

Gage grinned, sliding his arm around Liberty. The band began to play "Embraceable You," and Liberty looked up at him. "You want to dance," Gage said, interpreting her expectant glance, and she nodded. He took her hand and murmured, "Come on, then," in a low tone that made her blush. Their fingers tangled tightly as he led her away.

"She's got you well trained, boy," Todd called after them, and sat beside Jack and me. On the other side of the table, a never-ending parade of people came to pay homage to Dad.

"She's good for him," Jack commented, watching Liberty dance with his brother. "He's loosened up a lot since they got married. And I never thought I'd see Gage so crazy about anyone."

I grinned at Jack. "It'll be that way for you too. Someday you'll meet someone, and you'll feel like you've been hit on the head with a two-by-four."

"I feel like that every Saturday night," Jack informed me.

"Your date's a hottie," Todd said as Jack's girlfriend-du-jour made her way to our table, back from the ladies' room. "What's her name? Is that Heidi?"

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