Her heart sank. Was he going to congratulate her publicly?
She would have preferred a more intimate exchange—a few personal words that showed he was proud of her—but she understood that this was the way Richard did things. He was all about reaching the widest audience possible. Why charm one person if you could charm ten?
He lifted a hand to silence the hum of conversation.
‘I want to thank you all for being here tonight.’ He delivered his most engaging smile—the one that had carried him all the way to Capitol Hill just weeks earlier. ‘We’re all busy people but, like you, I couldn’t miss Skylar’s little party. I want to thank you on her behalf.’
There were a few ‘ah’s but Skylar frowned.
Little party?
He made her feel as if she was back in kindergarten. And she didn’t need him to thank people on her behalf. She’d already thanked them—as he would have known if he’d arrived earlier. He’d blamed traffic, and she’d felt churlish for thinking that he should have allowed more time.
There was a rush of cold air as the door to the gallery opened and she swivelled to see if she recognised the latecomer.
She caught a glimpse of ebony hair, a long black coat, and powerful shoulders dusted in silvery snow.
Several women glanced towards the handsome stranger—and then he turned and she saw that it wasn’t a stranger.
It was Alec Hunter.
Another friend of Brittany’s, he was a maritime historian and his expertise and on-screen charisma had combined to give him a lucrative career that straddled academia and media. They called him ‘The Shipwreck Hunter’, and he’d been credited with single-handedly making history sexy. Thanks to his adventurous exploits in front of the camera, he had droves of female admirers.
She wasn’t one of them.
What was he doing here?
Yes, they occasionally socialised, but the truth was they tolerated each other for the sake of their mutual friends. He didn’t hide the fact he thought she was decorative and shallow. What had he called her back in the summer? A fairy princess.
If she’d been a dog she would have been growling deep in her throat.
Reminding herself that she didn’t care what he thought of her, she looked away.
It was one thing to try and please her parents for the sake of family harmony, but she was damned if she’d go out of her way to win the approval of a hardened cynic like Alec.
She knew he was the casualty of a bitter divorce and it didn’t surprise her. For her, the surprise was that someone had married him in the first place.
There was no way he would have chosen to come to her exhibition voluntarily—which meant that Brittany must have threatened or bribed him.
She stood still, making mental promises to kill her friend, and then realised that Richard was speaking directly to her.
‘Skylar …’ His voice carried across the room. ‘Come up here and join me, honey. There’s something I want to say to you.’
Honey? Honey?
When did he ever call her honey?
Not wanting to make a public scene, Skylar walked forward.
Out of the corner of her eye she was conscious of Alec, his stillness setting him apart from the rest of the crowd. There was something remote and inaccessible about him. She knew that those perfect masculine features masked a sharp intellect and an equally sharp and sarcastic tongue. Most women found him insanely attractive. She found him superior and patronising.
Leave, she thought. Go home. I don’t want you here, ruining my night with your brooding scowl.
But he didn’t leave. Instead he watched her, with that intense, focused gaze that made her dress feel too tight.
Her skin prickled and heat whispered across her skin. She nodded her head briefly in acknowledgment and then forgot about him—because Richard had taken her hand.
Sky looked into his eyes and tried to work out if her heart felt too big for her chest.