Page 57 of Cry, Little Dove

We order food and take our time eating and chatting before she sits me down on a chair in the middle of the living space.Because that’s where the best natural light is, she claims.

Suddenly, I’m goddamn Cinderella and Amanda is my fairy godmother. It’s a role she takes awfully seriously. She’s normally such a talkative person, it’s startling how quiet she is while she’s in the zone.

Amanda chooses a seductive smokey eye with a nude lipstick for me, and she arranges my hair in soft waves around my shoulders. Unlike many makeup artists I’ve seen online, she takes care to highlight my best features instead of trying to paint on new ones to follow trends.

We picked out my silk gown together during our shopping trip and she helps me to put it on. It’s a sleek, forest-green dress with thin straps, a deep V-cut in the front and a high slit on the right side of the skirt. I accessorize with neutral beige heels—red bottoms as Amanda insists—and understated gold jewelry. A designer clutch with rhinestones finishes off my look.

When I’m ready, Amanda disappears into her room for half an hour. She returns wearing a sparkly, figure-hugging dress in a dark shade of crimson. Her hair is in a playful updo, sharp eyeliner and red lips fit for a movie star.

While I gush about her gown and tell her how stunning she is, Amanda ushers me out of the suite and into the elevator. My heart beats out of my chest as we reach the ballroom on the top floor.

A sign in the foyer reads “VIPs only. Closed celebration.” Guests in elegant attire funnel toward a roped off entrance, and a lady with a clipboard asks their names before a massive security guard in a black uniform allows them to enter.

My breath quickens. Unless I count prom, I’ve never been to a formal event and I’m equally anxious and excited about what the evening will bring. Hopefully strong drinks. Maybe dancing.

But what—or rather who—reallycatches my attention is my date for the night:

Dr. Cain Morrow in a fucking tuxedo.

He stands off to the side of the entrance, a deep frown etched on his forehead while he adjusts his cufflinks. He hasn’t seen us yet, and I use the chance to gawk shamelessly.

His black tux is a flawless fit, from the collar hugging his strong neck to the jacket draping smoothly over his broad shoulders. He’s at least a head taller than anyone else in the foyer and his stance exudes casual, yet unshakable confidence.

Butterflies rise in my stomach and dampness seeps through my lace panties. Getting kidnapped by a man who could grace the front page of any magazine sure is something.

Cain runs a hand over his slicked back curls and finally looks up. Our eyes meet and his brow smooths. His gaze drags along my body like a trail of fire, making my skin prickle with an invisible touch while he walks toward us. A smirk tilts his lips as he catches my hand and twirls me around, my skirt fluttering.

“Goodness gracious, little dove! Look at you! Your beauty takes my breath away.” He kisses me and my knees weaken as I giggle into his mouth. “The green really brings out your stunning eyes.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, blushing like I’m a teen on a first date with her high school crush.

“I missed you, darlin’. Sorry I’ve been busy all day. A million people from the medical and science industry wanted to speak to me. Everybody’s trying to convince me to invest in their projects or to work for them, but through it all, I could only think of your gorgeous smile.” He kisses me again, deeply and with tongue until I slap his chest, and he stops, grinning.

“Ah, young love is wonderful,” Amanda says and sighs theatrically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like she’s going to faint.

Cain shakes his head, but he keeps smiling. “I’mtenyears older than you, Mandy.”

“And?” Amanda shrugs. “You’re so adorable together, I can’t help myself! But as much as it makes me swoon, you’ll have to save some of the lovey-dovey stuff for later. They’re expecting us inside the ballroom.”

The security guard waves us through a side entrance when he sees Cain. The hall is packed. Crystal chandeliers glimmer overhead, and the soft murmur of conversations drifts on gentle music, played by a string quartet in the corner. Servers with silver trays offer drinks to the guests standing shoulder to shoulder.

“All of San Antonio’s rich and famous are here tonight,” Amanda says. “I’d love to introduce you to some friends, but I have to get on stage to moderate the event. It’s become a tradition because my dear brother refuses to play host.” She scrunches her face and Cain grimaces.

“You know I despise being in the spotlight,” he says with a stony expression.

“Oh, I’m just teasing!” She pouts. “I do enjoy being the host, but most people still only know me as brilliant Dr. Morrow’s little sister, anyway.” Amanda laughs, affectionate pride in her eyes as she looks at her brother. “Don’t forget your speech coming up after my introduction, Cain.”

He groans. “Ugh, how could I forget.”

Amanda kisses my cheek, then Cain’s, and dashes onward into the crowd.

A sour expression twists his features as he glances around the room. “I hate these events and I hate public speaking. If I wanted that, I would have become a politician.”

“Idon’t hatethis,” I say, very obviously sliding my eyes along his body. “It shouldn’t surprise me that you pull off a tux as well as you pull off a cowboy hat and boots. But still…” I let out a quiet whistle, and a flush of pink appears on Cain’s clean-shaven cheeks.

He leans in to whisper and offers me his arm. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’. I almost liked it better when you were vile, cause your compliments got me blushing like a damn schoolboy and there ain’t nothing I can do about it. I’m putty in your hands.”

“I like making you blush.”

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