When We Touch (The Heartbreak Brothers 5)
Page 55
His eyes dipped down, scanning her body. “I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in anything.”
Gah, he wasn’t easy to bait.
And she was sure he was going to be devastating in a dinner suit and crisp white shirt. “Thank you. And for the record, I’m borrowing a dress from Mia.”
“She knows you’re coming to the ball?” He didn’t seem annoyed, just surprised.
“I had to tell her. But she won’t tell anybody else. She’s discreet.”
“What’s there to be discreet about?” he asked, his voice low. “We’re just going to an evening at my brother’s. It’s not like I’m taking you to a sex den and tying you to the wall.”
Her body pulsed. Damn, what was wrong with her? “I’d rather my brothers didn’t find out.”
“Why?” He seemed genuinely interested. As though he couldn’t figure her out.
“Because if they find out, they’re going to grill me. And it’s not worth it, because after Saturday you’re just my boss, right?”
“Right.” His voice was low. Gritted. His dark eyes swept her face.
“That’s the deal, isn’t it?” she asked softly. “We go to the ball, we dance together, then it’s done. Over. You get the refinancing, I get to lead the project.”
His mouth tightened. “Is that what you want?”
“To dance with you?” She shrugged. “I can endure it. For my job.”
“But you might not survive it,” he murmured. “That’s what I’m worried about. You’ll probably die and I’ll end up one distiller short.”
Becca grinned. She liked dark and dangerous Daniel. But she loved it even more when he teased her. “I’ll pull you down with me. We can die together. It’ll be a scandal Charleston whispers about for years. The infamous night when two people were slayed by a dance.”
“I can live with that.” He lifted a brow. “They talk about me anyway. At least this will liven up their boring lives.”
“What do they say?”
“About me?” A flash of something she couldn’t quite understand crossed his features. “If I told you, you wouldn’t come.”
“And you want me to come?” She tilted her head. “Interesting.”
“I’m planning on using you as a human shield, to stop all the matriarchs from throwing their eligible daughters at me.” He lifted his arms up, his hands curled as though he was holding an imaginary Becca in front of him. He moved them from side to side as though he was protecting himself from flying potential dates. “Bam, bam, take that you Mariannes and Elizabeths. You’re no match for Becca Hartson.”
She shook her head. “You’re weird.”
“I know.” His glance was almost fond. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Becca.” Then he was gone, and she was thankful that the still room was empty, because there was no hiding her blush.
The last time she drove to Charleston, she hadn’t really taken in the timeless splendour of the town. She’d been too busy eyeing her GPS and feeling jittery about the box Daniel had asked her to bring, to notice the pretty, leafy city in her full glory. Built in the late seventeen hundreds where the Elk and Kanawha Rivers joined, the city had begun as so many back then as a fort, occupied by Colonel Savannah Clendenin and his company of Virginia Rangers.
The city’s buildings were a strange mixture of old and new, sleek towerblocks dwarfing quaint nineteenth century churches, with the golden dome of the Capitol glinting in the afternoon sun. Becca followed the directions to Eliana Scott-Carter’s tall redbrick manor, parking her car in the driveway alongside Daniel’s sleek Corvette and an elegant black town car. She switched off the engine and looked up at the sweeping white stone steps that led to a stucco porch. If the door opened and a nineteenth century belle ran out, holding her crinoline skirt to stop herself from tripping, she wouldn’t look out of place.
Climbing out of the car, Becca patted her hair, making sure it was still as shiny and wavy as when she’d left the salon. She’d given her stylist Lainey – who happened to be best friends with Courtney, Logan’s wife – a tall story about a trip to Charleston where she was to attend a company dinner. She’d even lied to her Aunt Gina, the woman who’d brought her up since she was a toddler. She wouldn’t be surprised if lightning struck her down.
The front door opened, and Daniel walked out. The waning sun caught his dark hair, bouncing off it, casting a shadow on his face as he stalked toward the car. Her heart skipped again. She was getting used to it now. Maybe she’d always feel like this, even when she was seventy and retired and occasionally saw him at the grocery store.
“How was your trip?” he asked, leaning into her trunk as she popped it open. He carefully pulled out the dress bag, looping the hanger over his finger, then took her overnight suitcase in his other hand.
“Slower than yours, obviously. But that wouldn’t be difficult.”
He smiled. “You have a terrible opinion of my driving. I kept to the speed limit all the way.”
“I imagine that’s not easy.” She glanced at his car. It looked as dark and foreboding as he did.