Heiress's Baby Scandal

Automatically, she opened her mouth to defend her sister. It was what she’d done her whole life. But when her gaze met Ty’s she found the truth spilling from her mouth. “Usually she’s worse.” Oh, yeah, she’d drunk one glass of champagne too many. “Although really it’s not her fault.” Old habits died hard. “Everyone spoils her so it’s only natural that she expects everyone to bow at her feet.” Eleanor shrugged. “They usually do.”

Holding her close, Ty shuddered. “Tell me you took after your mother.”

All too aware of the strong arms around her, of the muscular body against hers, of the wonderfully male scent filling her nostrils, Eleanor laughed. “Because my mother is the only immediate family member you’ve not met and maybe there’s hope yet?”

His husky laugh warmed her insides. “Always knew you were one sharp cookie, Ellie.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you because she’s here and no doubt you’ll meet her before the night is through. I saw the senator and her looking our way earlier. And do not call me that name.”

“Don’t glare at me, Ellie.” His lips twitched. “I’m just keeping to our deal.”

“You’ve called me Ellie four times in the past five minutes,” she pointed out, frustrated at his insistence on the name. Sure, the way it rolled off his tongue always made her breath catch, but she didn’t like the name.

“Exactly.”

His one word sliced right through the past. She couldn’t look away from the sincerity in his eyes. Ty found her attractive, had chosen her over Brooke—

something that she’d never dreamed would happen—and he was holding her close to his body.

His wonderful, warm, hard, fantastic-smelling body that was obviously affected by holding her close.

“You are a very beautiful woman, Ellie Aston, and you have taken my breath away from the moment I arrived to pick you up this evening.”

Eleanor’s insides melted to ooey-gooey feminine happiness and for once she didn’t even glare at him for using the nickname she despised.

After all, a deal was a deal.

“When you look at me like that you make me feel beautiful,” she admitted, wondering if she was a fool for revealing so much, wondering if perhaps she should have cut off the champagne long ago because he couldn’t really be looking at her that way. Could he?

His fingers lifted her chin. He studied her face, her eyes, until she wanted to squirm away. He leaned forward and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. So soft she could almost think he was hesitant, but he wasn’t. He was strong and confident. His kiss had revered her as if she were something fragile, precious.

How would it feel to kiss Ty for real? On the mouth? To have him enthralled in passion, touching her, kissing her as if he craved her lips more than the air he breathed?

His hand pressed against her back, holding her close to him. Her cheek rested against his chest. She breathed in his musky fragrance, the smell of him intoxicating her much more than any alcohol she’d consumed.

He bent, spoke close to her ear. “I want to kiss you, Ellie, but not here. Not with all the photographers. I want our first kiss to be just between us, not fodder for some gossip page.”

She wanted to be kissed. Desperately. By Ty. She wanted that first kiss. Thousands more.

“We can leave anytime,” she offered.

He leaned back enough to look her in the eyes, as if trying to decide exactly what she was saying.

“Now,” she clarified. “Let’s leave now.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Hand in hand, they headed out of the ballroom, through the glitzy foyer, got their coats. Ty helped her into hers then they walked out onto the sidewalk.

As soon as Eleanor finished asking the attendant to call for the limo, Ty lifted her hand to his lips.

“Thank you for tonight, darlin’.”

The brisk night air grasped at her and she shivered. Reality began to set in, to wash away the effects of the alcohol haze that had enveloped her. Self-doubt set in.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she told him. “You’ve more than done your duty.”

His eyes darkened. “Done my duty?”