Page 48 of Nothing to No One

Could she call herself his after such a short time?

Whatever words fitted or didn’t, sensation told a different story.

Whenever she spent time with Roman, she rued this crazy set up and wished to be anywhere but with him. That night, she rued the location and event, but not the man.

“Are you okay?” His lips moved in her hair, and the people they’d been talking with were gone. She’d missed the conversation. Was it important? Had she contributed at all, or was her first impression bimbo dumb?

“Hmm?” She coiled his arm around her waist. “Were those people important?”

She’d be damned after going through all this just to ruin Roman’s reputation anyway. That was not a crime her shoulders deserved.

“You’re the only important person here.”

Caught in the shield of his body, he navigated them through people and onto the dance floor again.

She laughed. “We’ve spent more time here than anywhere else tonight.”

By rote, her arms coiled around him, beneath his jacket, and closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against him.

“It’s my favorite place to be,” he said, his strength as calming as it was arousing.

Even then the music didn’t compute. He led and she moved with him. By outward appearances, they were a couple, enjoying each other like dozens of others were at that moment. With her eyes closed, she could believe they were alone, that it was just them and nothing else existed. No Roman. No con. Just them.

“Are you ready to go home?” he asked.

If it meant leaving his embrace, no, she didn’t want to go anywhere. How long had they been dancing? The night wasn’t close to over, was it?

Time didn’t pass the same with him.

“I want to stay here.” She squeezed all her muscles. “Right here, beau, nowhere else.”

Fate wasn’t smiling on her.

“Roman!” someone exclaimed, shattering the moment. Her date was forced to release her. “You haven’t been returning my calls. All about Whey now?”

“No, Mr. Wrigley, definitely not.”

“Richard. Richard. Call me Richard.” The guy smacked a hand to Struan’s bicep and swiped up his hand to shake. “Have to admit, with a beauty like this, I would be distracted too.”

“Richard Wrigley, this is Bambi Bennett, my fiancée.”

Hummina, that sounded good on Struan’s lips.

“Yes, the whole world knows that,” the man said, laughing again. Jovial though he portrayed himself, wariness prickled.Her female intuition wasn’t taking this guy at face value. “We need to get together, there are things to discuss.”

“I’m shooting every day. I don’t have a lot of time to myself these days.”

“Yes! You’re on the rise again. That’s what we need to talk about. I have some interesting opportunities—”

“If you’ll excuse us. I have to get Bambi a drink.”

Again, holding her, he directed her to the bar to order more drinks.

“Who was that?” she asked.

Struan sat on a stool and guided her into the vee of his thighs. “A sycophant. You get used to them. When you’re on the way down, no one knows you—”

“On the way up, everyone’s your best friend?” It would be galling if it wasn’t so ridiculous. “How do you live in this town? Honestly? How do you do it?” Turning to relax her back on his chest, still in the circle of his arms, she scrutinized the room. “There are so many people here, and I don’t know any of them. I don’t think I’ve met a single genuine person in this town, except you.”

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