New York, Actually (From Manhattan with Love 4)

His state of mind bothered him less than he would have expected.

What bothered him was her state of mind. Molly was a woman who never wanted a man to fall in love with her. It was her worst-case scenario. Which gave him a problem for which, right now, he had no solution.

She’d made him promise that he wouldn’t fall in love. He couldn’t change the way he was feeling, but he could keep those feelings to himself.

“I need to circulate.” For him, this event was all about work. He and the other partners were expected to mingle, say a few motivational words and then tactfully leave before the rest of the staff drank too much and danced on the tables. “Let me introduce you to a few people.” Resolving to keep the evening as short as possible, he did the rounds, introducing Molly to various members of the team.

The weather was perfect for an outdoor summer party and the event struck exactly the right balance between sophisticated and casual. The terrace was illuminated by discreet lighting and outdoor furniture was arranged in a way that encouraged people to come together in small groups and enjoy the food and the company. Candles flickered in Mason jars and bunches of flowers added a sweet, heady aroma to the night air.

The band was good and knew what to play to draw people to the dance floor. There was a hum of conversation, a ripple of laughter and interspersed between the sounds of revelry were the sounds of New York. Sounds that were part of the rich tapestry of the city. The blare of cab horns, the wail of sirens, helicopters, garbage trucks, barking dogs.

Across the terrace he saw Eva talking to someone serving food. She caught his eye, gave him a little wave and turned her attention back to work.

“Now

that you’ve spoken to what felt like a hundred people, are we allowed to dance?” Molly finished her drink and slid her arm into his.

“I have a reputation to maintain.”

“You’ll be safe with me, I promise. I won’t let you make a fool of yourself in public.”

“You’ve never seen me dance.”

“People are staring at us anyway. We might as well give them something worth looking at.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t let me make a fool of myself?” But he took her hand and walked her to the dance floor before pulling her into his arms. Her hair brushed against his chin and he breathed in the scent of it and was instantly transported back a few hours to their steamy encounter in the shower.

The moment her body brushed against his, he knew it was a mistake. Their connection was too intense, too alive and real to ever be concealed from those watching curiously.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced, but what they were doing now didn’t feel like dancing. It felt like an extension of what they did in the bedroom. And the hallway. And his office. And any other place where there was a door separating them from the outside world.

He heard her breathing change and felt her hand rest on the front of his chest.

Then she lifted her head and looked at him with those green eyes that made him think of fields and forests. What did she see when she looked into his eyes? Did she see the change in his feelings? He hoped not, because he had yet to come up with a strategy.

He wasn’t the first man to fall in love with her, but he intended to be the last.

“Let’s go.” He forced himself to step back to a safe distance and pulled her to the edge of the dance floor, only to find the way blocked by Max.

Tension rippled through him. If there was one person he wouldn’t have wanted to introduce to Molly, it was Max.

“Daniel! And with the best-looking woman in the room, as usual.” He winked at Molly and gave what he probably thought was a charming smile. “I’m Max. I’m here to lighten the tone of the place. You must be Molly. And before you ask how I know that, I should tell you that you are the first woman Daniel has ever brought to this event so you’re already famous. Congratulations.”

Daniel saw a tiny frown appear between Molly’s brows, as if she didn’t quite know what to make of Max.

“We’re on our way out,” he said bluntly, but Max had drunk just enough to ensure that his reactions were blunted.

“You can’t leave yet. What do you do for a living, Molly? Your face looks familiar. Have we met?”

Daniel ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Max—”

“I’m a psychologist.”

“Whoa!” Max’s reaction was exaggerated drama. “Is this the point where you tell me what you think of me? Because I’m not sure I want to know.”

Daniel was more than ready to tell his colleague what he thought of him but he bit his tongue.

Molly tipped her head to one side. “I think you’re drunk. But it’s a party, so why not.”